Page 20 of Palaces and other Prisons
“You want to swim, but you can’t because of your arm. That’s why you’re sad.”
Ul drew in a breath and sighed as he glanced at the bandage on his arm. He pointed at the cliff, as if to say it was time to go back.
Dawson lifted his chin, taking in the cliff, which wasn’t all that high, unless one was falling, and then the palace perched on top. Behind the castle, the sky was pink from the sunset. As pink as the king’s freckles when they touched.
CHAPTER 15
After sleeping terribly, which he blamed on Dawson, Ul was tempted to hand over the learning of the language to his secretary, so he didn’t need to spend more time around the dark-haired human. Not that distance would change anything. There was no denying that Dawson was very compatible with him, and that was key when seeking a mate.
And if the island was now in the wrong world, then none of his trading partners and allies would be offended. Were they wondering where Felloi had gone?
It made no sense to worry about those things when he hadn’t confirmed the island was in the wrong world, even though that seemingly impossible explanation was also the most logical, given the changes to the ocean, the sea floor, and the weather.
He had considered sending Dawson to the library again, but there was nothing further to be found there until the languages had been learned. Which meant he was stuck with his human shadow. And Dawson was very distracting.
Ul wasn’t even sure why he was allowing himself to be distracted. He had put off remarrying for so long, in part because he didn’t want to go through the process of getting to know someone after establishing compatibility, only to have them die.
He’d had twelve years with his husband before the ship he’d been on had sunk in a storm. If he remembered correctly, his husband had also arrived on the island during a storm. That should’ve been an omen about their relationship. It had been tumultuous and ultimately unproductive despite their compatibility. Despite the calm of the last three years on his own, Ul was lonely. At first, he thought it was because he missed him, but in truth, he simply missed having someone in his bed. And while there were plenty of people who would leap at the chance, and lords had offered their of-age sons for his entertainment if not marriage, he couldn’t be bothered entertaining something so fruitless. Or being beholden to the lord.
Even when he’d been the heir to the throne, his relationships had been political. No matter who was in his bed, there were always dangers and favors, and it was exhausting. At least on his own, there was no one but himself to worry about.
And no one to worry about him.
Though he wasn’t sure if any of his lovers had ever cared about him beyond what the affair promised them and their families.
“Sire, is there more to the letter?” Ifer asked.
It seemed as though he’d been drafting letters to the various districts every cursed day. And every day, he received letters back or runners bearing news.
Never any good news.
Meetings with councilors from the various districts were held daily. Everyone wanted answers, and all he could say was that he was working on them. The councilor for the farming district where theoil platformsat demanded that it be taken down and the people on board arrested for invading the island. There were complaints because they’d built a pipe to the river.
He’d sent someone to inspect, but their pipe was not harming anyone, aside from the ogres whose land it crossed, and Ul had already paid them a compensation fee to keep the peace.
“I’m only writing the letter because they want answers. But I have nothing new to say.” And he’d spent half a page saying that there was nothing more to add to the situation, and it would be several days before anyone spoke the language.
“Perhaps we should end the letter with something along the lines of when communication has been established, you will hold a meeting with the councilors so that all the questions may be answered in the most efficient manner?” Ifer inclined his head.
“Excellent, write something like that, make copies, and then I will sign them.” And perhaps he’d get a few days of peace.
“You have been working since theoil platformarrived. Have you considered working less over the next couple of days, both for your own recovery and for the learning of the language?” Ifer glanced at Dawson, who was sitting in the corner studying the map of Felloi, with the guard standing at his side.
Ul was almost sure Dawson did not need to be followed by the guard, as he appeared to have no intention of running away. Tomorrow he could wear his shoes and socks. He was also sure the guards had noticed the change in his markings on the beach. He shouldn’t have touched Dawson. However, he’d been so frustrated by the lack of progress and the need to understand who this man was that it felt inevitable, in much the same way as the tides would always lick the shore.
He trusted his guards to keep their mouths shut, but the three who witnessed it might talk amongst themselves. Dawson had noticed, and Ul was sure he’d asked what it meant. He asked a lot of questions.
“I’m fine. My arm barely pains me.” Except for when he tried to sleep, and then every movement made it ache. Or when hefelt his missing fingers move, or the crushing pain ran along cartilage that no longer existed.
“I merely meant that it might be faster to learn the language if you dedicated more time to it.”
“Well, if the councilors stopped demanding my attention…”
“And that is my point. The more time you spend listening to their complaints, the less time you spend listening to Dawson.”
Dawson glanced over at the use of his name.
Ul smiled and nodded.
