Kael didn't see any royals for the ten days it took for his back to heal enough that moving didn't immediately make him want to drop to his knees and heave his guts up.
He'd spent many of those days lost to fever, but the palace healers had brought him back quickly from the worst of it and had done a grand job of covering the weeping wounds until they'd scabbed over.
He was almost relieved to see Rylan when he finally arrived to escort him through the palace. It seemed likely he'd return Kael to the doulos chambers, and if Josephine and the others hadn't wanted to kill him before, they would now, he'd tried to kill one of their own.
"One of the doulos attacked me," he explained as Rylan guided him down a corridor.
Rylan didn't reply, just stared ahead with the stalwart look of a man who followed orders like they were ordained from Etara, the goddess of earth and war. "Put me back in with them, and I cannot guarantee the same thing won't happen again."
"The prince is very much aware of what you'll do, Kaellas."
Had Darian anticipated this? No, that was too much of a stretch. He could not know Kael would be attacked, or how he'd react. Although, was it really so unexpected given how Kael had already killed a man in the cells? This couldn't go on. These were games to see what triggered Kael. He'd hurt someone else, someone who didn't deserve it.
"I need to speak with Darian."
"You will."
"Rylan…" It was the first time he'd said his name, and he brought the guard to a dead stop in the corridor. He had startling blue eyes, the kind made for laughing, although he wasn't smiling now. His broad-shouldered stance could easily make him intimidating, but he didn't radiate violence like some men in his position might.
What had he been about to say? Kael cleared his throat. Now he had the man's full attention, but he wasn't sure of his words. "Did I kill the doulos?"
"You certainly did not make a friend of him." The guard's mouth hinted at a restrained grin, and warmth touched his eyes. "He survived."
Well, that was good, wasn't it? "If you put me back in with them—"
"You're not going back there. Come now." Rylan took his arm and urged him along. They walked in silence a while, turning corridors and climbing steps.
"Some advice, if you'll listen?" Julian voiced it as a question, implying he'd noticed Kael's stubborn streak. "The prince is…"
Indecision made his gaze flicker. His fingers tightened on Kael's bicep. "… Complicated. Work with him, and you might survive this."
Work with him? He wasn't sure such a thing was possible. Darian seemed to summon in him the urge to kill the moment the prince stepped into the same room. "I agreed to kill a man for him. The rest of this was avoidable—putting me with doulos. I'm not a criminal. It's on him."
"You agreed, yes. But he doesn't believe your word. I wonder why that is," Rylan mused in a singsong voice, keeping his eyes ahead.
Kael stared ahead, too, wishing he could see through walls to a way out. "He doesn't trust anyone."
Rylan glanced over, his smile gone. "Prince Sebastian wanted you dead for attempting to kill another slave. Darian saved you from the noose."
Saved him? Kael barked an incredulous laugh. "It's Darian's fucking noose to begin with!"
Rylan grabbed Kael's jerkin in his fists and yanked him face-to-face with startling strength. "Mind your words, Kaellas."
"Unhand him, Rylan." Darian sighed, having emerged from a gilded door at the end of the hall. "Bring him inside."
The room was different from the first he'd been invited into. That one had been overflowing with opulence. This was softer, somehow. The furniture and wallpaper weren't fighting for attention. Instead, cool, clean lines and colors complemented each other. It was probably the first room in the palace that didn't instantly give Kael a headache.
Then there was the huge bed. Blood red velvet curtains draped from each of the posts. Black quilts were laid over it, pooling around it.
By the gods, it was hideous. "Leave us," Darian said.
Rylan frowned. "I don't think—"
"Good. Don't. Go."
Rylan reluctantly let go of Kael's arm, lingering like he had more to say, and finally left. Kael couldn't decide if Julian took his work as the prince's guard seriously or if there was something more between them. He couldn't imagine Darian's sharp exterior ever thawing enough to let anyone close. Kael had found rocks with more empathy.
Darian gracefully reclined in a chair, placed an ankle on his knee, and stared. His white-blond hair curtained half his face, hiding the scarring. When he gestured, he did so with his right hand, proving it had healed enough for him to freely move it. "You understand how we can meet like this?"
"I…" Kael wasn't entirely sure of his answer. He wasn't sure of anything since the guards had dragged him to the palace dungeons.
Darian rolled his eyes. "You are my doulos, to do with as I please. Thus, you and I can be alone. In fact, it's expected of us. Come closer. I do not bite."
Kael took a few obligatory steps forward and stopped. This felt like a trap. Rylan hadn't bound him, and there were plenty of ornaments and pieces of furniture that would make brutal but efficient weapons. He'd already spotted a large, beautifully decorated vase that would make a brilliant projectile. The broken pieces would make excellent blades.
"Were you, say, a mercenary, we would not be here," Darian said, his words and voice elegant and smooth. "Were you, say, an assassin? We would not be here. Were you a lord or indeed a lady, we would certainly not be here, in my personal chambers, alone. As a doulos we can be in the same room, without anyone caring. Our conversations are private. Now do you understand?"
"Then…I am not your slave?"
"For the benefit of others, yes. If I wanted a real doulos, I'd find one far more willing to fuck without arguing."
A relief, for the most part. Kael sighed. If he could ease the tension between them, perhaps he could convince the prince he didn't need a handler in Rylan, and then he'd flee. "I apologize."
The prince raised his eyebrow.
"For the wrist. And the trouble."
Darian tilted his head and smiled. "How kind of you to admit your wrongdoing, but also bullshit. Still, I'm impressed you were able to say the words without spitting in my face. Now, sit."
"I'd rather stand."
Darian blinked. "I'd rather I did not have to speak with you at all." He leaned forward, making his long hair slip from his shoulder. "I'd rather you were not in my chamber, and I'd rather I still had two eyes instead of just the one. We would all rather things be different, so take the fucking seat, Kaellas, and save your energy for arguments worth having."
Kaellas grabbed a nearby chair, spun it around to face the prince, and sat.
"Don't worry," Darian purred. "There will be many more chances for you to defy me."
"Am I here just for you to torment?"
He chuckled and rested an elbow on the arm of his chair, propping his chin on his knuckles. "What a delight that would be. But no. Carlo, my younger brother, did not die by accident, as the gossip would have you believe."
He hadn't heard. Being locked up on arrival at the palace and then convalescing for the past few weeks meant he hadn't heard much of anything, and certainly nothing of courtly politics.
"His saddle was loose. The horse spooked. His body was found a mile outside the city. His skull was caved in, apparently from a fall."
He delivered the facts calmly, coolly, and utterly detached in a way that made it seem as though a stranger had died, and not his own brother.
"That horse was mine," he added. "His death should have been mine too. While I was…away, something insidious manipulated its way into my home and my family. It undermines them—us," he hastily corrected. "Observed as I am, I cannot root out this force without them becoming aware of my interest. That is clearly where you come in."
"Rylan seems proficient. You trust him. Why not ask him to investigate?"
"Rylan is" —he glanced toward the closed doors— "helpful where he is." Darian held Kael's gaze, making Kael's insides turn over, as though the man had an uncanny ability to rifle through his soul and reveal things best left hidden. "You have not been subtle in your hatred of me, but that I can trust. I prefer the enemy I can see to the one behind my back."
There was an elegance to it, Kael supposed. If Kael wanted the prince dead, it wouldn't be with a knife in the back. "You clearly have suspicions as to who wants you killed."
He chuckled dryly. "My return was unexpected. Many in my family would prefer I did not return at all. The palace, its people, it's all changed. And I see from your eyes that we finally agree on something."
Kael straightened in the chair. He'd always thought himself careful with his expressions, but Darian's gaze had the unnerving ability to strip Kael's guard. "What makes you think you can trust me with this task?"
"I don't trust you," the prince said, as though that answered the question. Perhaps it did, but only by opening up more questions.
This man was like none Kael had ever met before. He claimed to be hunted, and yet he didn't look like a man afraid. If anything, he was the only person Kael had met who wasn't afraid. He reminded him of a fox among chickens. The kind that didn't kill to eat. It killed because it could. Kael knew killers, too. He'd commanded many of them. This Vex prince was the kind who enjoyed the killing a little too much.