Princes of the Blood Series

Chapter 10: Princeling, Part 5

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the temple that resided behind the castle. The two were divided by a river, actually a branch of the Great River. An enormous bridge of gleaming white stone spanned it, the second bridge to be built after the first had been destroyed in the early days after the war.

At midmorning it bustled with all manner of people making the trek between the two buildings, either returning from the recently concluded prayers or headed to attend the late prayer hour. Raffé winced at the sunlight but resisted an urge to shield his face with his hands. It hurt. He hoped he got used to it sooner rather than later and could walk about as unaffected as Telmé.

"It will get better," Telmé said with a laugh. "You are handling it remarkably well for whatever that is worth, especially since the last one as sensitive as you was Håkon."

"Why the sensitivity?"

Telmé shrugged. "Demons work best at night, when the Goddess of Hell is strongest. The more powerful the demon blood, the more sensitive the Prince. You're lucky you can venture outside during the day at all. I suspect you will also be like Håkon in that you will prefer to avoid the sun and become a true night crawler." Goddesses, thinking of cool dark made Raffé want to whimper. Telmé's mouth ticked up at one corner, eyes crinkling. "Yes, definitely a night crawler. Speaking of demons, the very moment they're allowed, the mages will hunt you down to begin tracing your blood back to its demon source."

"The Book of Demons," Raffé murmured. "I always wondered if it was true the mages kept such a record."

"They keep many records, and you will become acquainted with most of them-possibly all, depending on where your strengths lie," Telmé said. "I think there is potential in you to be very powerful, but it is hard to say for certain until you are trained up and standing true on your own feet."

Raffé shook his head, wondering when he would really believe all that was happening to him. "I don't care if I'm powerful or not-I'm happy to be alive."

Telmé reached up and ruffled his hair. Raffé stared at him, making Telmé chuckle. "I think you will do quite well, Princeling, and those who doubted you will regret it."

The words echoed Cambord's, and the reminder of him caused a brief, sweet ache that Raffé hated to set aside. "I think they will be happier free of me, of what they consider 'the whole mess'. My parents are very strict adherents to the old ways and were not happy to discover that between them they had managed to sire children with the proper amount of demon blood." They had been positively infuriated to learn of it so late in life, when the required tests done when their sons were children had cleared them, no doubt because of a mistake on the part of the Priest who had tested them.

"They were less pleased to be reminded that the Law of Blood now applies to them."

"What!" Raffé tripped on his own feet he was so startled and only avoided slamming his face into the ground because Telmé grabbed him and held him upright. He shook his head. "You're jok-" He broke off, realizing abruptly that it wouldn't be a joke. Telmé was right: if his parents were capable of providing Blooding candidates, then they were obligated to carry on the line. His mother, however, was too old to give birth. That meant his father would be expected to find additional wives. "That will be hard for them. Our territory clings to the old ways, and multiple spouses is one of the 'new' traditions they abhor the most. They were extremely displeased my fiancé already had two wives, but the offer was too financially generous to refuse."

"If they wanted the luxury of abstaining from the tradition they should have made certain that your brother did not run off so you would be available for providing heirs," Telmé said with a shrug. "What's done is done, however. Perhaps your brother will show sense and return. I've no doubt three wives is a duty your father will learn to manage. Certainly there are worse."

Raffé gave a weak laugh. "My fiancé already had two wives and three children. He was permitted a husband because my brother was going to marry a woman and so the line would have carried. I was not certain at all how it was going to go, but I wanted to try. No wonder my parents were so angry with me-they already knew they'd have to take new wives into the household."

Telmé gripped his shoulder again. "Do not worry upon them, Princeling. They are no longer your responsibility. Your duty now is to serve as a Prince of the Blood. Their problems are theirs, not yours. Believe me, we've plenty enough of our own."

"I'll do my best," Raffé said. "As I said, I am grateful to be alive. I don't intend to throw that away."

"Good," Telmé said, and they continued on the rest of the way in silence.

The midmorning bells began to toll as they reached the temple, and a man appeared at the top of the steps. He had light, yellow-brown skin and shockingly white hair that fell to his shoulders in fine dreadlocks, and was dressed in flowing dark blue robes and a silver circlet set with a sapphire. At Raffé's side, Telmé smiled warmly and quickened his pace to climb the steps, taking the hand that reached out and tugged him close.

Raffé looked away as Telmé exchanged a brief but immodest kiss with his husband, the High Priest of the Church of the Sacred Three and the Reach of the House.