Granted, the subject that was being discussed in the Queen’s office was sufficiently distracting.
“I beg your pardon?” Queen Janesh said, blinking at Rohan. She exuded shock, as did the Queen’s assistant.
Prince Jamil didn’t seem surprised at all.
Warrehn shook his head, incredulous that Rohan had actually told him everything. Unbelievable.
“You heard me, Your Majesty,” Rohan said, meeting the Queen’s gaze firmly. “My people rejected the Bonding Law a long time ago. We now wish to legalize our right to do so.”
The Queen sat down heavily in her chair. “You’re saying… you’re saying that you’re no better than the rebels.”
Beside Warrehn, Sirri bristled, but Rohan’s raised hand stopped her before she could anything.
“Calluvians speak of rebels as if they’re some kind of lawless barbarians,” Rohan said softly. “But have you actually seen one, Your Majesty?”
A furrow appeared between the Queen’s brows.
“No,” Rohan answered for her. “No one has. Because the ‘rebels’ don’t really exist anymore. It has been thousands of years. The ‘rebels’ are no more lawless than your average Calluvian citizen. They have a governing body. The only difference between Calluvians and the so-called rebels is the fact that the rebels’ government doesn’t force them to take their children’s choice away. That is all.”
Warrehn felt a twinge of admiration mixed with envy. Sometimes he really wished he had Rohan’s ability to convince people of whatever he wanted, something Rohan didn’t even use his compulsion gift for. It was a skill Rohan’s father and then later Rohan had tried to instill in Warrehn, but he’d never had talent for diplomacy and politics.
And that’s why you’re in the position you’re now in, a bitter voice said at the back of his mind. If he’d been smart enough to get allies, Dalatteya wouldn’t have been able to—
Cutting that train of thought off, Warrehn focused on the present.
“You’re saying that you are the rebels,” the Queen said faintly. She looked pale, but she didn’t look like she was on the verge of calling for security.
Rohan nodded, still holding the Queen’s gaze. “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “On Tai’Lehr, we don’t bind our children’s telepathy and don’t choose their life partners for them. We give them the freedom to make their own choices and their own mistakes. We are here to defend that freedom.”
Something flickered across Queen Janesh’s face as she glanced at Jamil. Warrehn didn’t even need to probe her emotions to feel her discomfort. He relaxed slightly, sensing that she’d had her own doubts about the necessity of the Bonding Law. This might turn out to be easier than they’d all thought.
They. Sometimes it messed with Warrehn’s head that he thought of himself as a Tai’Lehrian. He wasn’t. At best, he was their unwilling guest. At worst, he was their political prisoner. Sometimes Warrehn wasn’t sure whether he hated them or loved them for everything they’d done for him. Tai’Lehrians had forced him to stay on Tai’Lehr and prevented him from going back for his brother, but they had also saved his life and taught him everything he knew about the mind arts. He’d lived most of his life on Tai’Lehr, however unwillingly. It was probably inevitable that he started including himself when he thought of Tai’Lehr’s interests. His friendship with Rohan played a role, too.
“So you are all unbonded telepaths,” the Queen said faintly, something like wariness in her eyes as she glanced from Rohan to Warrehn and Sirri before settling on Derrel, Rohan’s assistant.
It was the latter who answered softly, “I’m happily bonded, Your Majesty, but it’s a different bond from the one that binds Calluvians. It doesn’t limit my telepathy.”
The Queen’s gaze returned to Rohan. “What you are confessing is a crime against the state, Lord Tai’Lehr,” she said, her face blank. “Why are you telling me this?”
“As Tai’Lehr is still part of the Third Grand Clan, we felt honor-bound to inform you beforehand of our decision to approach the Council,” Rohan said. “You are our sovereign, Your Majesty. If you support us, we will not petition the Council to give us independence from Calluvia. We are more than content to remain under your reign if you support us.”
The Queen just stared at him for a long moment.
At last, she looked at her son, who stood by her desk, his back very straight and his expression carefully neutral. If Warrehn didn’t know better, he’d think he really was Ice Prince. Cold. Unapproachable. Except that thread of tension between the Crown Prince and Rohan pulsed with such longing and hunger it made even Warrehn uncomfortable as hell, and he was no prude. It was amazing how two people who carefully avoided looking at each other could create such strong tension that it felt like a separate being in the room with them.
“Jamil?” the Queen said.
The Crown Prince’s lips pursed slightly, and Warrehn couldn’t help but notice how sensual they were. Prince Jamil had the kind of face that was too perfect for Warrehn’s tastes, but his lips were just so damn pretty and red that it was hard to look at them and not imagine them wrapped around a cock.