Part of Seyn was almost touched by Ksar’s obvious concern for his younger brother’s reputation and future. Almost. The bigger part of him resented that Ksar hadn’t shown the same consideration and care toward his reputation. Rationally, Seyn knew it probably meant that Ksar considered him capable of handling himself, but irrationally, there was a pathetic part of him that wanted to be babied and taken care of in the same way Ksar did with Harry—well, not the same way, but…
Seyn cut that train of thought off, grabbed his multi-device from the nightstand, and said, without looking at Ksar, “Let me know if Harry needs help when he’s back—no, tell him to call me if he needs me. He’s always welcome in my home.”
And with that, Seyn headed for the door.
“Seyn.”
He paused, his back to Ksar.
“Yes?” Seyn said, as calmly as he could. He was calm. He wasn’t going to have a breakdown because a man he hated (yes, hated) was marrying someone else.
“Back when we first met, I didn’t really find you lacking,” Ksar said, his voice quiet and a little stiff. “I was cruel because I had to be, to keep you at arm’s length. There was nothing wrong with you. Never has been.”
Seyn stared at the door blankly.
His chest hurt.
There was nothing wrong with him. He’d been wanting to hear those words from Ksar all his life, but when he actually got them…he wanted to cry and rage, punch Ksar—and then hide his face against Ksar’s chest and feel his arms around him.
He did none of those things.
He said, very evenly, “Thank you for telling me that.”
And he strode out of the room, the ache in his throat and his chest worsening with every breath he took until his vision was blurry and he could barely see where he was going.
“The t-chamber is to the left, Your Highness,” came Borg’gorn’s voice, his tone gentle and kind.
Seyn hated it.
“I know where it is,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster.
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Seyn managed to get into the t-chamber and sagged back against its wall. It started moving without his command—no doubt Borg’gorn’s doing.
Seyn wondered if it was possible for an AI to feel pity.
He laughed, the sound as ugly and empty as the feeling inside him.
* * *
As the sound of Seyn’s footsteps receded down the hallway, Ksar’s gaze fell on the invitation on the floor. He picked it up and stared at it—at Seyn’s name in the wrong place—before crushing it in his fist.
“Permission to speak freely, Your Highness?” Borg’gorn said.
“Denied,” Ksar said, walking to the bar and pouring himself a drink.
He downed it in one go. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down, but it did nothing to erase the tight feeling in it.
Chapter 24
Ksar first heard the rumor from Councilor Xuvok, of all people.
“You must be quite relieved, Your Highness,” Xuvok said suddenly in the middle of a discussion about trading permits.
“Pardon?” Ksar looked up from the graphs displayed on his screen.
The elderly man clarified, “The…current situation must have been awkward for you—encountering your former bondmate everywhere while you’re so close to marrying another person. You must be relieved that Prince Seyn’ngh’veighli is going to move to another planet.”
Ksar stared at him. “What.”
Xuvok frowned. “Have you not heard the rumors? It is said Prince Seyn has accepted Ambassador Denev’s proposal.”
Ksar moved his gaze back to the graphs and gazed at them blankly. “Let’s return to the subject at hand.”
His voice came out strange, but Xuvok didn’t seem to notice.
The meeting went as it should.
When the Councilor finally left, Ksar sat very still, his hands on his desk.
In the absolute silence of the room, with nothing to distract him, he finally had to accept something he’d been in denial about for years.
People said with great power came great responsibility. They were not wrong. Ksar had always prided himself on being cool-headed enough not to use his telepathic abilities recklessly. He’d done…some morally questionable things in the past, but there had always been the line he’d never allowed himself to cross. He’d never harmed another person.
But now…now he had to admit he was absolutely capable of doing what the horror stories said about the high-level telepaths. Because his first thought upon hearing the news was to find Denev and make sure that he suffered from sudden heart failure. It would be so easy.
So easy.
Sighing, Ksar pinched the bridge of his nose.
He would do no such thing. Denev’s only fault was wanting Seyn, and Ksar could hardly blame him for that.
Except Seyn wasn’t Denev’s to want.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered through his teeth. Seyn wasn’t his. He had never been his. The only thing they’d ever had was their farce of a bond.
Except the bond had been very real to him. He might not have ever been bonded to Seyn, but he’d had constant access to Seyn’s emotions for twenty-four years. Ksar was used to Seyn’s presence at the back of his mind, no matter how annoying and distracting it had been at times. Twenty-four years was a very long time. It was probably natural that at some point he’d started thinking of Seyn as something that was his.