Chapter 15 Part 1 | Lovers and Beloveds | IHGK Book 1
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The letter was folded and sealed, and pressed into Fen's hands early the next day at the train station. "Give this to my groom, Alvo Nollson--only him, d'you understand? You can trust him. He will help you," said Temmin. "He's my best friend."
"Must be some groom if he's your best friend, sir," said Fen.
"Friend and groom, the best of both. Crokker should be expecting you. He's fierce, but don't let him frighten you."
"Never worry, sir, we worked for Mr Affton," said Arta; she smiled, though her pale face and trembling hands betrayed her.
For appearance's sake, Temmin kissed Arta on the forehead and Fen on one cheek. Though the kisses were innocent, he'd grown increasingly fond of both of them, he thought absently as they waved from their compartment window through the steam of the train's departure. He was responsible for them now, the first time he'd felt responsible for someone else's well-being, and it frightened him somewhat.
Perhaps it was another small taste of kingship, something like the rush of power that came over him when crowds shouted his name, waving and calling as they were now, as his carriage rolled through the streets towards the Keep, though there was a surly undertone this time he didn't like. He waved back, but wondered all the way home. Would that he could turn people to his cause the way Warin could, but what cause was that? What did he stand for, now that the Temple had been taken from him?
Teacher waited in Temmin's rooms, looking out over the lawn. "Are they on the train?"
"Yes," answered Temmin, "and it was a strange thing. Well, no, they weren't strange, neither was the train. The people round the station were. They don't seem to like me very well right now."
"You disappointed them," said Teacher.
"Disappointed? What right do they have to be disappointed in me?" said Temmin, flinging himself onto the couch. He changed his mind as soon as he hit the cushions; he still hadn't unkinked himself from the night he'd spent on it, and he rose and resettled himself into the wooden chair by the library table. "Why d'you always have to stand with your back to the sun? I can't ever see you properly, you're just this thin black stick," he said, shading his eyes.
Teacher didn't move, remaining a dark shadow haloed in the sunlight. "The common people have every right to expect greatness from their rulers, though they are usually disappointed. They very much wanted you to go to the Temple and fulfill the prophecy. Now they think you have taken a mistress, and a young man as well. They are disappointed in you."
Temmin slumped in his chair, ashamed. "I'm just like the rest of the nobility, or will be. They'll have to get used to it."
"Are you like the rest? You do not seem so to me, at least, not yet."
"It's what I am," he mumbled. "I should get it over with now, just go with Fennows to his stupid brothel and get it over with. Then I can go see Allis and Issak and do whatever it is I can do there, and then go home and be a good princeling and turn into my father."
"Is that what you want?"
"No, it fucking well isn't what I want!" Temmin said, banging his fist on the table top.
"I will excuse your improper outburst, this time," said Teacher, unperturbed. "What, then, do you want?"
"I want to go home. I want my best friend back. I want Jenks! I want Allis and Issak, and in the right way, not some state visit. I want to hit someone! And I want Fennows to go fu--to go back to Corland!"
"You cannot go home. Alvo in time will be allowed to come to you. Jenks returns in a few days. Allis and Issak would welcome you as a Supplicant, especially now that they have dealt with Lord Litta. You may arrange with Brother Mardus to hit someone, but someone will undoubtedly hit you back. And Fennows returns to Corland on tomorrow's train."
"What? Wait, slow down," said Temmin in astonishment: a great deal of news to absorb at once. "Fennows is leaving?"
"He told His Majesty that pressing business takes him to Corland."
"Merciful Amma, there's a sweet bit of news!" he said. "As to the rest, I don't care if someone hits me back, a few days are too many, and what about Litta?"
"Do you not read the papers?"
"I hate newspapers," said Temmin.
Teacher pulled a slim tabloid from an inner pocket of the black robe, and tossed it on the table. The Afternoon Spectator, said the ornate nameplate at the top of the front page. Beneath it, a headline in large type, stretching over two columns: A Terrible Trade--Lovers' Embodiments Call for Ministerial Action--Dreadful Suffering of Children.
Temmin clutched at the newsprint, wrinkling it almost beyond legibility. "Oh, gods, Litta did it. Why did he do it? I did what he said!"
"Read it."
"I already know what it says!" But Temmin did as he was told, scanning the columns. "They told a newspaper--they told everyone! Why would they do that?"
"To remove the only weapon anyone had against them. It went quite well, actually. Almost every newspaper in the kingdom is calling for a crackdown on certain brothels. Litta and your father are powerless against the Obbys now. In fact, they are stronger than ever."
Temmin sat back in his chair and squinted. "I thought you weren't supposed to advise me on this."
"I am not. I am merely stating where affairs stand." A pause; Teacher moved away from the light to sit on the edge of the table, and resolved from a black figure to a pale one again. "Is your brain a-whirl, or may we return to study?"
The story. Just today, he'd wished he were more like Warin, that he had Warin's charisma and decisiveness. "Yes," he said slowly, "I think I'd like to study. Ugh, the book's sticky!" He rubbed at the old red leather with a handkerchief. "I don't know, though. Warin and Emmae were so angry with one another. I almost don't want to know how bad their marriage was."
Temmin opened the book, and fell in.
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