The next morning, Bade sat in the courtyard, at the base of a tree, and watched the sun mount the sky.
Kudorin was doing that. Kudorin made that miracle happen every day.
He’d never fit the idea of marrying a deity into his mind. It had never quite clicked into place. Kudorin was a god. He existed on several planes at once, and had numerous demands on his time, on his attention, on his emotions.
And Kudorin had a wife. Kudorin already being married made marrying him non-traditional, yes, but it wasn’t that point, exactly, which bothered Bade. And he didn’t have a problem with Anikira herself. She was a gracious woman, a kind person, a fine queen. Still...
Bade didn’t expect to be his husband’s everything. He expected for his future husband to have a family and friends, responsibilities, hobbies, even dependent citizens. But he did expect to be his husband’s only spouse. He wasn’t sure that he was willing to share to that extent. Maybe other men were stronger than he was.
He supposed that if he truly loved Kudorin, he’d let nothing come between them; he’d let nothing turn him from Kudorin’s side; he’d overcome any obstacle. At least, that was the way that it happened in grand novels and epic poems.
But it was possible that he wasn’t in love with Kudorin.
Dropping to his back, Bade put his hands over his eyes, rubbing them and trying not to groan out loud in his frustration. The sun was overhead; he saw it there, between his fingers, when he blinked. It was huge, bright, and powerful. Kudorin moved it twice a day; raised it every morning, lowered it each night.
Bade just wasn’t that grand. He wasn’t. He was, he knew, a rather simple person. He didn’t require a lot of pomp and circumstance; he didn’t awe anyone with his grandeur. An Anorian king had to represent the most powerful nation on the planet. An Anorian king had to bed a god. Bade didn’t want a god! He wanted a man, a regular normal man.
Well, someone titled would be nice. He didn’t think that his parents would approve of a commoner. But there was a vast difference between a prince and an actual deity.
Bade wanted to do good things for Nosupolis. Marrying Kudorin would be the best thing that he could ever do for his people. But Kudorin wanted to marry for love. And Bade just didn’t love him.
If he didn’t intend to marry Kudorin, then he couldn’t, in good conscience, continue his suit.
And if he was no longer courting the pharaoh, then he had no reason to remain.
Which meant that he had to go home.
What was he going to tell Orinakin? All of this time, Orinakin had been his champion. Orinakin thought that he was the future king. Encouragement and guidance and advice and support, Orinakin had given him everything, had stood right by his side. How could he look into those beautiful, amethyst eyes and admit that he was quitting?
No matter how many times he’d been told that Dranz and the others had decided on their own to leave, he’d still secretly suspected that Kudorin had sent them home. Now, he realized that maybe they truly had come to their own conclusions. Maybe they’d figured it out as he had, only he’d been a bit slower.
He didn’t look forward to telling Kudorin that he had to leave, but he knew, he already knew, that Kudorin would understand. He had immense respect and admiration for Kudorin, but there was no longer a passionate spark between them.
He had no idea how to tell Orinakin. He couldn’t even think of facing Orinakin and making that confession. He couldn’t go through with it. Not after everything that Orinakin had done for him. Not with all that Orinakin meant to him.
“I can’t wait to see Bade’s reaction,” Orinakin said. “I expect that I’ll have to make myself available to him, to answer his whirlwind of questions.”
“Beneta or anyone else on your staff would be happy to do that,” Selorin said reasonably.
“Yes,” Orinakin said, “but Bade’s comfortable with me, and I like to see his responses to new things. There should be plenty of new sights and sounds at the festival, and…” Orinakin stopped talking as Selorin’s slender, blue eyebrow rose. “What?”
“You’re very fond of His Highness,” Selorin said, with maddening calm.
“He’s a friend,” Orinakin said.
“And no more than a friend?” Selorin asked, sitting back just a bit, openly studying him.
So now they got down to it. He’d expected this conversation. “A close friend,” Orinakin said. “A good friend.”
Selorin met his eyes. “You’re in love with him.”
“He’s here for Kudorin,” Orinakin said. That was a fact, a plain, bald, undeniable fact, and he’d never forgotten it, not once, not for a second. “He’s a suitor, he’s come to marry Kudorin, he’s our future king.”
“They may not wed,” Selorin said.
“I won’t deny Bade this opportunity,” Orinakin said. “Not for my own selfish desires.” Swallowing, he pressed on, firm, insistent. “I won’t let myself think about it - - I don’t let myself think about it. I won’t distract Kudorin. I won’t risk Kudorin turning Bade down for my sake. I won’t jeopardize Bade’s chance. I won’t deny Kudorin his king.”
The empathy on Selorin’s face was unbearable. “Orinakin, you-”
“I’ll get past it,” Orinakin said. “It’s temporary, fleeting, a passing fancy. This is my job, Selorin, this is what I was born to do. Yes, I see wonderful,” his voice broke and his face crumpled but he forced himself through it, “wonderful things in Bade, but that could be because it’s my duty to seek out the best in Kudorin’s potential suitors. That could be because Bade simply is an exemplary human being.”
“That could be because you’re in love with him,” Selorin said gently, drawing his chair around the side of the table, sliding his arm around Orinakin’s shoulders. “I won’t see you deny yourself, Orinakin.”
Unable to resist Selorin’s embrace, Orinakin rested his chin on Selorin’s shoulder and closed his eyes, indulging in the fullness of his emotions for this one, brief moment. Even then, he tried to struggle his way back out, forcing himself to say, “It isn’t about me. This is the best possible match for both of them, for Kudorin and for Bade. I have to see to Kudorin’s happiness first, before my own. I could never offer Bade everything that Kudorin can. I’ll find my own future in someone else.”
“And if they marry?” Selorin asked, his fingers slowly caressing through Orinakin’s hair, gentle, familiar. “What will you do, Orinakin, when the one you love is at Kudorin’s side?”
He tried to laugh, but a bitter, broken sound came out instead. “The gods have smiled upon me,” he said, an ache tightening in his chest. “I’m out of the country a lot.”
