As a result of these circumstances, the colony had been essentially cut off from Calluvia for centuries, the communication between them sporadic and space travel to the planet long and dangerous. The colony still managed to transport their goods via independent trading companies willing to travel into a war zone. It was part of the reason Tai’Lehrian zywerns were so expensive and so sought-after. Come to think of it, the magnificent black zywern from the other night must have been from Tai’Lehr. Black zywerns were extremely rare, bred only on a few planets, Tai’Lehr among them.
It still didn’t explain why Rohan di’Lehr had been employed by Jamil’s stable master. Running a thorough background check on a Tai’Lehrian citizen was obviously problematic given the circumstances, so Rohan di’Lehr presented a huge security risk.
“Omer, do we have an up-to-date database on Tai’Lehr’s citizens?” Jamil wasn’t sure, since the Queen was the one who dealt with their clan’s colonies.
“None that are in my memory storage, Your Highness,” the AI replied.
Jamil suppressed a sigh. At times like this, their palace AI was next to useless. He wished Omer were as advanced as the Second Royal House’s AI, Borg’gorn, who was one of the most powerful artificial intelligences in the galaxy. Compared to him, Omer was just a glorified butler.
“Do you want me to ask the Queen, Your Highness?”
“No,” Jamil said. His sudden interest in Tai’Lehr would seem strange and right now he didn’t want his mother’s scrutiny.
Jamil looked at the man’s profile again. Rohan di’Lehr. Rohan. It meant ‘black’ in one of the Calluvian dialects. The simplicity of the name indicated that its owner wasn’t of noble blood. The fact that the man just carried the name of the colony indicated that he was an orphan without any lineage to attach to. It explained why there was no information on his family. As for the fact that Rohan supposedly had a bondmate… it just confused Jamil. A bonded man should have never reacted to him the way Rohan had the other night. It just wasn’t possible.
He was thinking in circles.
Sighing, Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Clearly he wasn’t going to figure anything out without asking his stable master why Rohan di’Lehr had been hired and why his employee profile was so incomplete. Except such interest from him would look very strange: the Crown Prince didn’t involve himself in hiring servants. Although he didn’t have to explain his actions to his staff, such uncharacteristic behavior would make servants gossip and Jamil would rather avoid that.
He could also confront the man himself.
Jamil’s stomach clenched at the thought. He didn’t want to do it.
Liar.
Jamil bit the inside of his cheek. All right, he might be lying, a little. He did want to see that man. Part of him itched to see him again.
That was the problem.
Chapter 3
Jamil finally gave in and headed to the stables after dinner. He’d spent an hour meditating, reinforcing his mental shields to prevent himself from reacting to that man in such an unacceptable way. He felt confident that it wouldn’t happen again. He’d just been startled, unprepared, his mental shields down; that was it. He would feel nothing now.
Jamil found Rohan in the zywern stables. He was with the same zywern, feeding him raw meat.
He was wearing only a pair of gray work pants.
Jamil stared at him, vaguely embarrassed but reluctantly fascinated. He had never seen a man who wasn’t his husband in such a state of undress. Men of high society didn’t go out without a cravat or at least a simple necktie, much less without a shirt. Not only was that improper, but Rohan was also breaking a number of safety protocols by not wearing the trainer uniform with its included personal force field. Not that a personal force field would save him if the zywern chose to attack him, but still. Safety protocols were there for a reason.
Jamil averted his gaze from Rohan’s back and frowned at the intricate black patterns on his left arm. Tattoos, he identified them absentmindedly. Jamil had never seen such things before, but he knew they were popular on some planets, especially among the lower classes.
“Do you always ignore safety protocols?” Jamil said. His voice came out curious rather than scathing.
Rohan went still, the muscles in his back stiffening, before he resumed the feeding. He said nothing, as if Jamil wasn’t even there.
“I’m speaking to you,” Jamil said sharply. Heavens, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone pissed him off so much so fast without even saying anything.
“Have you not been told that you should never interrupt a zywern’s feeding, Highness?”
Jamil glared at his back, incensed by the mocking undertone in Rohan’s voice.
“Your Highness,” he ground out. “You will address me as Your Highness.”
Rohan muttered something under his breath.
Jamil flushed. “What did you just say?”