“It will require intricate political maneuvering both domestically and intergalactically,” Ksar said. “It will likely take months before the laws will be passed.”
“What laws?” Seyn said, feeling off-balance. He couldn’t remember him and Ksar ever managing to have a civil conversation for so long without it turning into an ugly argument.
Ksar looked at him. “The repeal of the Ministry’s 156th law and some changes to the Bonding Law.”
Seyn felt his eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat. Surely Ksar wasn’t serious? He didn’t know enough about intergalactic politics to judge the chances of the repeal of the 156th law, but he was positive the Council would never do anything to the Bonding Law. It wasn’t just the t-nulls who were afraid of high-level telepaths. Even the telepaths in the Council were unlikely to support any change to the Bonding Law. Repealing the law might completely overhaul the social hierarchy, which obviously wasn’t in the Council’s best interests. People in power didn’t want change unless it benefited them. No matter how often Seyn had bitched and whined about the unfairness of the Bonding Law, he had never seriously thought that anything would change. Fear was a powerful motivator to keep the status quo intact.
“They’d never repeal the Bonding Law,” Seyn said.
“That’s why I have no intention to push for the complete repeal of the law,” Ksar said neutrally. “It would be too suspicious if such a bill passed.”
Seyn stared at him. “You mean you want to rig the Council’s voting.” It was a statement, not a question. He didn’t know why he was surprised. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known that Ksar had absolutely no qualms about manipulating someone’s mind. A scowl twisted Seyn’s lips before fading. He wished he could tell Ksar what he thought about his despicable methods, but if it was done to help Harry, was it wrong? And more importantly, did he really care about the means as long as the Bonding Law was changed?
“What do you intend to propose, then?” Seyn said.
Ksar raised his eyebrows. “No righteous indignation?”
Seyn made a face. He felt weird enough that he agreed with Ksar on something. He didn’t need Ksar to rub it in. “I asked you a question,” he said coolly. “If you don’t intend to push for the repeal of the law, how would it help Harry?”
“The Council would be more open to a small amendment to the law,” Ksar said. “A conditional clause that would allow individuals who have reached the age of majority to petition for dissolution of the bond.”
Seyn’s heart skipped a beat. “Anyone who’s over the age of twenty-five? Why would the Council agree to it? There would be chaos.”
Ksar’s face remained impassive. “Passing such a law wouldn’t mean that just anyone would get the approval of the Council and the High Hronthar. I’m sure it would be highly regulated.” His voice became somewhat sardonic. “I don’t expect most requests to be approved.”
Right. Of course. Introducing a conditional clause would only ensure that the people in power remained in power.
Seyn shook his head, his mind reeling. “But Harry isn’t twenty-five. He can’t apply for the dissolution of the bond for another year.” He frowned, looking at Ksar sharply. “Unless you think Harry can wait that long without his health deteriorating…” He trailed off, realizing what Ksar had likely meant. But it still didn’t make sense. “Leylen would never petition to break her bond to Harry.”
Ksar’s heavy gaze on him was unmoving. “She’s already agreed to do it.”
Seyn’s brows furrowed, his bewilderment increasing. “She has? Why the hell would she do it? Her family is a bunch of social climbers.”
“Precisely,” Ksar said.
Seyn’s breath caught in his throat.
He stared at Ksar blankly. “You mean…”
“Yes,” Ksar said, his voice toneless. “You may not consider the position of my Consort an honor, but, luckily for Harry, Leylen doesn’t share your opinion.”
Seyn opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He found himself blinking, unable to grasp it. He probably looked stupid. He felt stupid, because while the words registered, his mind remained blank, unable to imagine Ksar marrying Leylen—unable to believe that he would be finally completely, absolutely, totally free of Ksar.
Forever.
“She can’t seriously…” he whispered, barely moving his lips. “She can’t…”
“Want to marry me?” Ksar said with a nasty edge to his voice. “She does. She’s beyond excited.”
Seyn glowered at him, jumping to his feet. “Then she’s an idiot,” he ground out. “Is that all? Then excuse me, I’m off to celebrate. This is the best day of my life.”
Ksar’s face was absolutely expressionless. “It will be months before the law is passed. But don’t let it stop you.”
Seyn smiled at him sweetly. “It won’t. By the way, pass my condolences to Leylen. Best of luck to her. She’ll need it.”
Not a single muscle shifted on Ksar’s face. He said nothing, so Seyn turned on his heel and strode out of the room.