第46章 Chapter (1)

The first month after Rohan left was… hectic.

Jamil felt almost grateful for the problems their House faced now that Seyn’s betrothal to Ksar was broken. Jamil was busy trying to do damage limitation and choose a new fiancé for Seyn. Despite the scandal the broken betrothal had caused, there were still hundreds of potential candidates to consider. Seyn had given Jamil and their mothers free reign, oddly indifferent to who would replace Ksar as his betrothed. Jamil had an idea about why his brother seemed so dejected, but he didn’t feel like he could deal with Seyn’s messy emotions when he couldn’t deal with his own.

His days were so busy Jamil barely had time to breathe.

But nights were a different matter.

At night, he was left alone with his thoughts, alone with the dull ache where his heart was.

He felt hollow, in a way he hadn’t felt even after Mehmer’s death. Even spending time with Tmynne didn’t help. He hated himself for searching for Rohan’s features on her face, hated himself for feeling disappointed that she was looking more like Jamil every day, losing the few features she had seemed to share with her other father.

It was unhealthy; Jamil knew that. Tmynne was her own person, not an extension of Rohan. She deserved to be loved for being herself. She didn’t have to look like Rohan for Jamil to love her. He did love her. He adored her, now more than ever. She was the main reason why he got out of bed in the mornings. Her smile was the only thing that filled his heart with joy, no matter how short-lived.

He still wished she looked like Rohan. It was selfish and irrational, but he couldn’t change how he felt.

“Jamil!”

He flinched, nearly spilling the tea he was nursing. He focused his gaze on the Queen. “Yes, Mother?”

The Queen exchanged a look with the Queen-Consort. They both radiated concern, and Jamil quickly schooled his features into attentiveness and reinforced his mental shields. He didn’t want to worry them. They already had another son to worry about.

“Darling, do you wish to take a break?” the Queen-Consort said softly. “We have been here for hours. You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” Jamil said, straightening up and turning his gaze to the hologram in front of them. “You want my opinion on Ambassador Denev? I think… I think he’s a decent man.”

“Hmm.” The Queen looked thoughtful. “He is. It is rumored that he is going to be the President of his pl soon.”

“And everyone knows how smitten he is with Seyn,” her wife added with an approving smile. “Which is as important.”

The Queen’s lips thinned. “Certainly. After Ksar’s despicable treatment of him, Seyn deserves someone who will appreciate him. He deserves to be happy.”

Jamil wasn’t at all sure that Seyn would be happy with someone like Denev. He had a sneaking suspicion that anyone not named Ksar wouldn’t make his brother happy, anyway. But Ksar and Seyn had made their choices. It wasn’t his place to question them, no matter how badly he wanted to smack them both sometimes. They had it so easy. All that separated them was their pride, which, granted, they both had an abundance of, but still. They had it so easy.

“Seyn isn’t the only one who deserves to be happy,” the Queen-Consort said, watching him with a frown. “Are you sure you’re all right, darling? You looked so much happier in the past few months. We thought you finally moved on from Mehmer’s death, but now you seem worse than you were in those first months.”

“We don’t understand, Jamil,” the Queen added.

Jamil bit his lip, searching for words that wouldn’t be an outright lie. He couldn’t lie to his mothers. He just couldn’t.

“I knew it would be hard,” he murmured, looking down at his fingers. “But I still—I need him.” His voice wavered and he clenched his fingers into fists. “I’m a grown, self-sufficient man. I have a daughter I adore. I shouldn’t feel this way. I know that.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” the Queen-Consort said, her mental presence reaching out to give him a telepathic hug.

Jamil closed his eyes, allowing himself to soak in her warmth, her love for him. For a moment, it helped. For a moment, he felt like everything would be all right.

But then his mother pulled back, and the cold, hollow feeling seeped back into his chest.

“There’s nothing worse for a mother than seeing her children unhappy,” the Queen said, her voice toneless. “And knowing that it is our fault. We were the ones who chose bondmates for you and Seyn. Of course we couldn’t know that it would end like this, but…” She shook her head, pursing her lips. “At times like this, I wish the Bonding Law never existed.”

“It’s not your fault, Mother,” Jamil said, forcing out a smile. “So… Ambassador Denev?”

* * *

A few days later, Seyn epted Denev’s suit.

Jamil tried not to look at Seyn’s false smile or notice the equally false happiness Seyn was trying to project for his family’s sake.

Part of him wanted to give his little brother a tight hug and tell him he understood. Part of him wanted to shake him and tell him to get his head out of his ass and grab happiness that was actually within Seyn’s reach instead of choosing to be miserable.

He wanted to shake himself, too. Jamil hated feeling so depressed, hated that he couldn’t even enjoy his daughter’s little achievements without wishing for Rohan to see them, too. Sometimes he almost hated Rohan, hated him for reducing him to this… pathetic, needy being. He was the Crown Prince of the Third Grand Clan, dammit. He needed to pick himself up and move on. He owed it to his daughter. Tmynne deserved a better father than this shell of a man he’d be.

So Jamil forced himself to act like a functional sentient being. He played with Tmynne for hours, he made sure to spend some time with his family every day, and he buried himself in work.

He still couldn’t sleep, and on the rare asion he did, he dreamed of a warm, achingly familiar mental touch, of strong arms wrapped tightly around him, of a hoarse, slightly ented voice calling him Love, of the feeling of absolute rightness andpleteness that left him hollow once Jamil woke up, his eyes wet.

When Seyn ended up in the center of another scandal, caught kissing his ex-bondmate at the ball, it was almost a relief for Jamil. This was another distraction, another disastrous situation that needed his full attention.

He didn’t blame Seyn, despite all the problems his behavior had created for their House.

Jamil stood, quiet, while their mothers chewed Seyn out.

“We just don’t understand, Seyn,” the Queen said at last, shaking her head. “That man humiliated you in the worst possible way. He treated you abominably for years—you said you were happy to be rid of him—and now you get caught kissing him in public—while you’re both betrothed to other people! I couldn’t look Ambassador Denev in the eye!”

Seyn dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”

“Then why, Seyn?”

Seyn lifted his gaze and smiled, a little guiltily. There was happiness in his eyes, shining bright despite his guilt. “I love him. It’s always been him for me. He—he proposed to me and everything. He chose me, Mother.” He looked giddy.

The Queen’s gaze softened.

She sighed. “Oh, Seyn.” She pulled him close and hugged him. “I’m happy for you, darling. I just wish you and Ksar had worked it out earlier without hurting other people and creating unnecessary scandals.”

Seyn shrugged, not looking particularly sorry. He really felt happy, happy in a way Jamil had never seen his brother. And why wouldn’t Seyn be? He was in love, his feelings were returned, and he could now be with the man he loved. Of course he was happy.

Jamil averted his gaze. “I hope Ksar knows what he is doing. The Council is going to be furious with him for wasting their time.” Ksar was an excellent, highly respected politician, but even he would have trouble navigating that minefield of his own creation. The Council had made an exception for Ksar, allowing him to break his childhood bond to Seyn, something unheard of, and now Ksar’splete turnabout wouldn’t exactly endear him to anyone.

Seyn shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m sure Ksar can handle it.”

Jamil smiled a little. Seyn’splete confidence in Ksar’s ability to handle anything was rather endearing. Or rather, it would be endearing if the object of Seyn’s devotion were someone other than Ksar. After Jamil’s last less than pleasant encounter with Ksar, he found it hard to think of that ruthless, arrogant man in the same sentence as the word endearing.

Thinking of his last encounter with Ksar inevitably led him to thinking about what had happened afterward. Rohan’s arms wrapped tightly around him, Rohan’s voice,forting him and whispering sweet nothings, his firm body pressed tightly against his own, his familiar, masculine scent —

Jamil turned away, wrapping his arms around himself tightly.

Gods.

He wished Mehmer had never died. He wished he’d never met Rohan. He wished he’d never known this deep-seated, raw longing. He’d been happy with Mehmer; he really was. His feelings for Mehmer might have never been as deep and intense, but he had been perfectly happy not knowing that such intense feelings were even possible.

He’d heard somewhere that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. As someone who had experienced happiness with two different men and then lost them, Jamil wanted to hit whoever had said that. Or perhaps it was true about his relationship with Mehmer: thinking about theirfortable relationship brought a fond, wistful smile to his lips now. Thinking about Rohan just brought a gut-wrenching ache in his soul, a longing so intense he wanted to curl up into a miserable ball of pain and never wake up.

Maybe all he needed was time.

Time supposedly healed everything, right?

The problem was, a part of him didn’t want to heal. That part of him couldn’t seem to let go of his illogical hope that everything would miraculously work out.

I’lle back to you, Rohan had prom