Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Caesura - 8. Chapter 8
Diarmad (Third person narrator with limited POV)
Diarmad watched as Ronan checked the French doors in the back, every window, and finally, after he was satisfied everything was locked up tight, setting the alarm system by the front door. Someone from the security team came from upstairs, and they talked briefly before the man disappeared down the hall leading to the kitchen.
Doing the evening round had been Landyn’s task for as long as Diarmad could remember. Afterwards, they would usually sit together with Simon, Ronan, and Becca, enjoying the last quiet evening before Seraei from all over the world visited the summerhouse to celebrate their arrival on Earth. Ronan’s voice brought him out of his musings.
“All set for the night, my Lord.”
Diarmad put his empty glass down on the table in front of him. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”
“Yes, Sire. The security system in the guesthouses is up and running and the rooms upstairs are in order. Additional men will arrive before everyone else turns up during the afternoon.”
“Very good, Ronan.” Diarmad knew his attempt at a friendly smile had failed when he saw Ronan’s expression harden.
“Do you need another drink? Should I send Keith?”
“No, thank you, Ronan. I will be going to my rooms momentarily.” And, in an afterthought, “Good night, and give Becca my regards.”
“Will do. Thank you, Sire.” Ronan bowed, then turned around and quickly went upstairs.
Where his mate is waiting for him.
Longing flooded Diarmad’s mind, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. It happened every time his thoughts wandered to Noël. For a brief moment, he would feel their bond strong and vibrating, and then he remembered everything wrong, everything that had made it impossible for him to live with his mate any longer. He felt his irritation well up just thinking of the disarray the boy had always brought to their room; books, clothes, candy wrappers on the floor and on every flat surface. If it had not been for Keith, it would have been like living in a garbage can. The terrible music Noël had listened to, one would think as a classical pianist he would have had better taste. Or his impossible friends, Kris in particular, who were traipsing about the house, making a commotion. But did he listen to Diarmad’s complaints? No, he just laughed them away.
In the end, it had been unbearable. Even Noël’s scent had grated on his nerves; hearing his youthful voice had Diarmad flee the room, and his touch had almost hurt, making his skin itch for hours.
Diarmad resented what he had found lovable before, and that was when he realized it was over.
Obviously, their most sacred ritual was flawed—for this could not be what the old tomes had described, a love that could overcome everything.
Separation had been the only logical conclusion.
***
Diarmad stared at the book in his hands without really reading it. Usually, with the house full of guests, there was no chance to have a moment alone outside his rooms, but by some miracle, the library had been pleasantly quiet all day.
The news of his separation from Noël had been making the rounds, and, as expected, most of his people had reacted like they were either shocked and/or disappointed. Naturally, those who didn’t know Noël very well blamed him. Diarmad had heard the wildest rumors about Noël cheating on him, or even having been caught stealing money. The moment he had become aware of these absurd accusations, he had instructed Keith to spread the word that Noël did not do any such things, but that Diarmad himself had been the one who had wanted the separation.
In the past, communicating the king’s affairs had always been Landyn’s job. This year, the man and his mate had chosen to spend their vacation with Noël, cruising on their sailing yacht, rather than spending it with him. A clear sign they were not happy with his decision to separate from Noël. Diarmad hoped that with time, they would calm down and their friendship would recover.
They were expected to arrive in the evening, or early the next morning at the latest.
I wonder if Noël will really come.
When Diarmad heard the door, he closed his book and looked up to see who finally found his hiding place. Sean Monaghan’s big frame came around one of the bookshelves moments later, and he stopped when he noticed Diarmad sitting in one of the big armchairs by the fireplace. Running his hand repeatedly over the white blond bristles of his buzz cut, he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry to bother you my King. Cieran sent me to tell you that people are asking for you. They want to know if Lord Noël is going to attend the celebrations, especially the clan leaders who don’t know him yet are eager to finally meet up with him. I, as well as the other council members, assured them he’ll be here tomorrow morning at the latest, but we still think it would be better if you talk to them yourself, dissuade rumors you aren’t well.”
Diarmad put the book on the small side table beside his chair. “You are probably right.” Then another thought occurred to him. “Is Laird on his way home yet?”
“Yes my Lord, but he was um… not exactly happy he had to leave.” Sean was suddenly very interested in some of the books sitting on the mantelpiece. “He er... somewhat lost control of himself and told everybody who was interested or not, that ‘the little whelp is just jealous’ so he had to leave the house, which wasn’t fair as he is now the man at your side. Some of the clan leaders found this disconcerting, to say the least.”
“It would not have been appropriate for Laird to be at my side during the celebrations, even if Noël hadn't insisted on coming only if he was not present. Laird’s rude behavior shows that Noël was right on demanding his absence. Rest assured, he will be properly punished when I am back home.”
“That might be what he is after in the first place.” Sean’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as soon as the words were out. “I’m so sorry, my Lord! It is not my place—”
“No, it is not, but you might be right.” Diarmad’s eyes narrowed. “This will not give him any pleasure, I can promise you that.”
Awkward silence filled the room. Obviously desperate to change the topic, Sean blurted out, “Will Lord Noël bring his new lover?” He back-pedaled immediately when he saw his king’s eyes flashing silver, and lifted his hands apologetically. “I’m only asking because this could lead to even more questions.”
“His new lover? He has a new lover?” Diarmad was out of his chair, and Sean took a step back before he answered.
“Does he not? I’m sorry, my Lord, we thought this human he is living with—a misunderstanding maybe…”
“He is not bringing anybody beside Simon and Landyn.”
“So the rumors are wrong? He isn’t involved with anyone yet?” And the man’s whole demeanor brightened. “Would it be inappropriate if someone else…I mean, you’re legally separated, right?”
“Are you telling me someone is interested in my mate?” Diarmad took a step forward, his gaze holding Sean’s. “Do you not seek a mate of your own?”
Standing tall, Sean met his king’s eyes. “Well yes, but in the meantime… I mean, he’s very beautiful and very talented also. We, the council, want him to work as one of our licensed telepaths. In fact, we will offer him the position at the next meeting. If he accepts, he will supervise negotiations, even trials, to ensure that the truth is spoken.” Then Sean grinned. “And having an empath as a lover certainly never hurts…”
“You do not need my consent, as you very well know.” He stormed to the door, brushing Sean’s shoulder so hard on his way out that he knocked the other man aside making him stumble.
***
Keith had told him of a musical performance taking place in the hall later in the evening, and Diarmad had expected to listen to some of the more talented students of their new Music & Arts Center. Instead, Noël had appeared on the stage. Standing there arrogantly, his thumb hooked onto the front pocket of his ripped jeans, pulling down the waistband just enough that if the white button-down shirt had been just a little shorter, everybody could have seen Diarmad’s mark. For a brief moment, Diarmad had been disappointed, as he had always liked others seeing the intricate vine marking Noël as his.
Nothing on his mate’s face had betrayed any emotions. Curious, Diarmad had tried to probe his mind, only to run into impenetrable shields followed by Noël jerking his head up, scanning the crowd for whomever had dared to try and read him.
He had been so beautiful. His sun-bleached hair was longer than Diarmad remembered; it was now reaching way down his back. When he had pushed the rolled shirtsleeves over his elbows, Diarmad could not help but admire the smooth, tanned skin stretching over sleek muscles.
At that moment, almost all of the sound reasons for leaving Noël had been forgotten, and Diarmad had been about to leap out of his chair embarrassing himself, when somebody had nudged his shoulder and a drink had appeared in his line of sight.
After looking into Keith’s sympathetic face, he had accepted the glass and immediately gulped down a large amount of the cool beverage, feeling better instantly.
Noël’s presentation had been a thoughtful mix of arrival-themed songs. The guests had loved every minute of it. And then he had played one last soulful piece, cleverly blaming Diarmad for everything that had happened. First, only single glances had been thrown at him, but the more Noël had poured himself out there, the more Diarmad had felt other people’s eyes on him, some curious, others accusing and reproachful. That was when he understood what Noël was doing; he was trying to divide him from his own people!
A provocative bow later and Noël was gone, no mingling with the guests but instead, leaving Diarmad to handle the chaos he had created.
You will not disappear on me, not after this stunt.
Searching for his wayward mate, Diarmad pushed through his guests. He won’t let Noël get away with what he had done. No, he was not going to tolerate this kind of behavior, and if he had to drag Noël back so he could explain to everyone that he did not mean it as it had sounded, he would.
Which no one is going to believe. He has to apologize to me, publicly.
Diarmad couldn’t detect Noël anywhere in the hall, and when he tried to look for him in the backyard, he found himself constantly surrounded by Seraei. He could hardly move. People kept talking to him, some with barely concealed sensationalism gleaming in their eyes, trying to gauge his mood after Noël’s performance.
He finally reached the door when Montgomery approached him. As the leader of one of the three most important clans on Earth, he could not ignore the man. Diarmad groaned inwardly before he pasted a polite smile on his face. “Montgomery, so good you could make it this year.”
The man took his hand with a firm grip. “My Lord, what a little spitfire you have there!” Diarmad almost punched him into his smug face.
“Thank you, my friend. Yeah, he has quite the temper sometimes…” He chuckled, while trying to peer around the other’s tall frame through the open patio door leading into the backyard.
No Noël.
Only, the man wasn’t deterred by Diarmad’s more-than-obvious efforts to get away, but actually had the audacity to bend his head getting even closer, while whispering in his ear, “He’s beautiful, so why did you seek a separation? Was he too much to handle?” Montgomery grinned knowingly. “The young always need a firm hand to learn their place. Trouble, yes, but also a delightful challenge. Not like your Laird, huh? At his age, he is probably much better trained thereby easier to handle, yes? Is that what you prefer?”
Diarmad honestly considered simply killing the man and be done with him. It would be an inconvenience, but nothing more. Montgomery finally sensed that he had overstepped the line because he backed away quickly, lifting his hands in a ‘just a joke’ gesture.
“I will pretend we never had this conversation, Montgomery—for now. If you would excuse me, I need to have a word with my mate.” He quickly headed outside before his temper got the better of him.
Noël wasn’t anywhere downstairs, so Diarmad finally went up to his room. Storming inside without knocking, he found nothing there but his lingering scent. “Damn it!”
“Are you looking for someone, my King?” Landyn leaned with his shoulder against the doorjamb, clearly mocking him with his question.
Diarmad decided not to respond to the targeted provocation. “Where is he?”
“Home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, home. He left fifteen minutes ago with Simon.”
“Without notifying me?” Heavy disappointment pressed in on him before he could get a grip of himself again. “He did not want to face the consequences of his little stunt but preferred to tuck his tail between his legs and run instead? Hiding behind your mate rather than stand accountable for his deeds? I did not think he would be such a coward.”
Landyn straightened up, looking furious. “That was quick!”
Diarmad didn’t understand, and it must have shown on his face. “Adopt the language of your new lover!” He spat the last word with so much venom, Diarmad had to hold on to himself as not to take a step back.
“You understood nothing, not that it surprises me. He couldn’t stay here because he was mentally and emotionally exhausted. This wasn’t him exposing you…That was him showing you he knows it’s over; he accepted it and that he will move on eventually…like you already did before he was even out of the house.”
How dare Landyn speak like this to his king? And he wasn’t done yet.
“You never really knew who Noël became after mating with you, do you? He’s Seraei now, a gifted telepath and empath, strong like Tristan, sensitive like Luis, and witty and beautiful as himself. This was their form to express themselves, to tell you how they feel. Of course he’s hurt and angry, and he has every right to show this to you and to everyone else if he wants to. Fate chose right after all, he is your equal; he won’t let you push him aside without at least commenting on it in his own special way. And you have to suck it up, my King!”
Landyn had never spoken to him like this. This had to be all Noël’s doing. He had estranged one of Diarmad’s closest friends and confidant from him. How could Landyn not see this?
Diarmad knew what he had to do next, even if it hurt. It was too dangerous to keep Landyn by his side with this new attitude of his. The day would come were he would betray him again; it was time to take action.
But Landyn beat him to it. “I resign. The council need a personal guard for Noël, now that he isn’t living with you anymore. I’ll apply for the job. I’ll discuss the details with Ronan, as he is probably the one you want doing my job from now on, right?”
Without waiting for an answer, Landyn bowed briefly before he turned and left. Once again, Diarmad was standing in Noël’s empty room. Everything was slipping out of his grasp.
Here is the promised change. Not what some of you might have expected, but I felt Diarmad needed a voice. Tell me what you think? You thoughts and comments are very much appreciated.
- 56
- 4
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- 3
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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