Chapter 12: The Gift

Prince Azim peeled off his sweaty tunic and boots then stepped into the hot spring. He closed his eyes and sighed as the warm water lapped against his skin, offering a soothing respite from a long day of tactic drills with his soldiers. He thrashed around until his back found the smooth rocks on the edges of the spring, providing a comforting rest. Just as he was beginning to find solace, he heard the door open and Wren’s voice echo throughout the bathhouse. “There you are, brother,” Wren said as he discarded his robe and joined him in the pool, dipping his slender frame into the water.

Azim’s eyes drooped with exhaustion, and his shoulders slumped as he slowly raised his head to face Wren. His voice was gruff and heavy with fatigue, “What can I do for you?” he asked.

Wren sunk into the calm, hot water up to his chest. He heaved a deep sigh and said, “I just heard the most disturbing news. Someone sent my mistress a gift.” He dragged his hands through the water, pulling it around him like a blanket.

“Is that so?” Azim asked, unfazed, “Which one?” his voice was deceptively gentle. “You have many.”

“The newest one, Khari,” he replied, a vein in his neck pulsing in anger. He paused and scratched his chin with a finger, deep in thought. He stepped closer to his brother, his gaze filled with malice. “Everyone at court knows that sending another man’s woman a gift is…insulting.”

“This is true,” he said without missing a beat. His quiet yet intense gaze locked onto Wren’s as he asked, “So how do you know it was a gift?”

“You’re right. There’s no way to know.” With a mischievous glint in his eye, he waded across the water until he was face-to-face with his brother. He leaned in close and, in a whispered tone, said, “So I figured I would go straight to the source.” As he ended his sentence, the door shut with a resounding thud, and Khari was left standing by the door, puzzlement written all over her face. Ever since she’d arrived under Prince Wren’s care, he never sought her out or called on her to accompany him during the night. This made it easier for her to hide the fact she could see. She’d grown accustomed to keeping herself hidden away in her room each evening while looking out at the moonlight cascading over the courtyard from her balcony. She kept her head down to the ground, praying fervently to the gods that this visit would be quick. She didn’t want anyone besides Azim to know she could see by the moon’s power.

The two princes stared at Khari, their gazes unreadable. The air was still, and a heavy silence descended over the room. Then, Wren spoke, his voice a low rumble, “Khari.”

She carefully stepped closer to the edge of the spring, where the warm air brushed across her cheeks, and the steam rose in lazy swirls from the pool’s depths. The water was so still it acted like a mirror, reflecting Wren’s figure as he stood. She asked quietly, “Yes, Prince Wren?”

There was a misty veil of steam between Wren and her as he leaned back to sit in the mineral-rich water, his hands resting against the rocky edge. His voice carried over the water as he asked, “Who sent you a gift a few days ago?”

“Gift?” she asked innocently, “I did not receive anything of the sort. I had some more clothes delivered by my servant Opia. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I see,” he murmured quietly. He raked a hand through his hair and looked back at Azim with a forced smile, “Well, I guess I was mistaken, brother.”

Azim’s heart thundered in his chest as his gaze flitted between Khari and the sliver of a moon that rose steadily in the night sky. The moon wasn’t at its highest point yet, but it would be within ten minutes. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the steady steam, and he forced himself to remain still and calm. He didn’t want Wren to suspect Khari had the power to see. He licked his dry lips before asking, “How so?”

“My mistresses brought Khari up in conversation and said you seemed taken with her,” Wren said, shaking his head. “Which, of course, I knew was utterly ridiculous.” Wren’s lip curled in a sneer as his gaze swept across Khari. “You would never fall for someone as weak, useless, and uninteresting as she is.”

As those words stung her ears, Khari felt like a hot needle had pierced her chest. She couldn’t deny how much they hurt, and the pain radiated further as silence settled in. Azim’s eyes flashed a dangerous look as his brother continued to provoke him. He abruptly stood up; his fists clenched at his sides. He refused to hold his tongue any longer. He looked over at Khari as she tried to hide her anguish, making his heart ache. He then glared at Wren, “I know you are goading me, and I don’t care. Are you trying to piss me off?” he replied.

“Excuse me?” Wren asked, standing with him, the water streaming down his arms and chest.

Azim slowly climbed the stairs, feeling the moisture of the water on his skin. Reaching the top, he called out, “You broke a court rule. It isn’t appropriate to bring your mistress to the bath while another man is present.” He looked over to Khari, and his heart raced as he quickly wrapped his robe around himself. “I feel like breaking a rule myself.” He marched across the room with a determined stride. His body was still wet from the bath, water droplets trailing behind him as he stopped and stood before her, gently whispering her name, “Khari?”

Khari spun around to face him, her heart still heavy from Wren’s harsh words. Azim stood in front of her, his eyes filled with a silent plea. Without hesitation, their lips met in a frenzied kiss that spoke of so much more than passion. She could feel the intensity of each emotion in his kiss - the desperation, the longing, the fervor. Azim’s mouth moved frantically against hers as if he were trying to say a thousand things but could only use his lips to express them. Every sensation coursed through her body like an electric current, setting her senses alight. But instead of pulling away, she met his want and desire with an eager response of her own. Azim cupped her face as he kissed her with unrestrained ardor, filled with all the yearning that had burned inside him since they first met.

Wren’s eyes flashed in shock and anger as he quickly exited the bath. He walked over to them both as Khari pulled back, “...Azim…” she whispered, her voice trembling with mixed feelings. She tried to find the right words to say, but the only thing that escaped her lips was a deep blush that spread across her cheeks.

Wren’s fingers dug into Khari’s arm as he spun her around. His lips were drawn in a tight line, and his face was illuminated by something deeper and darker than the dim light above them. “Azim? How close are you?” he asked as his jealousy surged through the air like a shockwave.

Azim lunged forward and said, “Let her go,” in a commanding tone.

Wren released Khari’s arm and shifted his body, standing tall between Azim and her. His dark eyes were fiery, and his jaw was set. “Trust me,” he growled, “you’ll never see her again.”

Azim grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Wren hunch defensively over Khari, who remained unmoved. Azim’s smirk grew wider, and he raised an eyebrow as he said, “Please. I’d like to see you try to keep me away from her,” he said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “Besides, you always said you wanted to be rid of Khari and even joked about throwing her in the dungeon after you become King. Regardless of what you promised her father,” Azim said.

Wren whipped around to face Khari, his eyes wide with panic. He then turned his gaze back on Azim, his lips pursed in a sneer, “You can’t believe anything he says. He’s just trying to weasel his way into your good graces.”

Azim craned his neck to look out the skylight windows above. His face was bathed in the moonlight as he studied the moon shining brightly in a star-studded sky. His gaze settled on Khari, who was standing behind Wren. He spoke with a gentle but firm tone, “Khari, go back to your room.”

“She doesn’t follow your commands!” Wren’s face was red with rage as he shouted, jabbing an index finger at the air for emphasis. His voice echoed off the walls of the room. “ONLY MY COMMANDS BECAUSE SHE IS MINE!”

Azim’s lips curled into a smirk as he playfully unfastened the belt of his silk robe and said, “Fine. Maybe I should discard my robe and try that kiss with her again.”

Khari felt her face flush as her mind replayed the soft press of their lips moments before. The warm feeling returned, and she was sure her cheeks must be radiating a telltale heat.

Wren’s face turned a deep shade of crimson as he watched his brother reach for what he had longed for. His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he spat out the demand in a cold, emotionless voice. “Khari, retire to your room.” Khari bowed in acquiescence and made her way out of the bathhouse. A cool gust of air blew in from outside as Khari rushed outside the door. As soon as it was shut, she let out a shaky breath, and the spark in her silver eyes returned, her sight restored once more. She wanted to stay and eavesdrop but knew it would be too risky to be seen. So she quickly scampered away before anyone else discovered her secret, leaving the two feuding brothers inside.

Wren’s voice was as cold and sharp as ice as he stepped closer to his brother, and he made sure to look him in the eye when he spoke. “I mean it, Azim. Don’t you ever put your hands on my mistress again. Or there will be hell to pay,” his words lingered between them like a palpable warning.

Azim smiled and patted his brother on the shoulder. His eyes twinkled in the dim light of the room, “Don’t worry, brother,” he said, cocking his head to the side before turning and walking out of the room, “I can afford to pay it.”