Gin took the collar, and Ysil could not get out of the room fast enough. The door slammed behind her and locked, and Gin turned back to Sath with the collar. He took a step backward. “Gin, please don’t.”
“Sath, I don’t want to, but this will keep you safe.” He didn’t move at first, but after a few minutes of hemming and hawing, he knelt and lowered his head, and Gin fastened the collar around his neck. Sath seemed to deflate a bit with the collar on, and no matter how much reassurance she tried to send him through the bond, he would not meet her eye. “Sath, I…”
“Don’t. It’s fine.” He met her gaze finally, and she saw more anger there than pain. “I will do what I need to do to keep you safe.”
“I know it’s humiliating, Sath but -”
“You don’t know, but you should.” She felt him stirring in the bond and looked up at him questioningly. “Let me tell you why this bothers me—you want to understand me better, yes?” She nodded. “How do I—do you just—will you just know if I call up the memory?” Gin nodded, and once he sat down, she sat down next to him, and he took her hands in his. She closed her eyes and immediately was whisked back, through his memories, to a very young Crown Prince Sathlir in the palace of Qatu’anari.
Thirteen
Into Sath’s Memories
Sath sat in the corner of the Royal Nursery, watching his younger sister Kazhmere toddle around with her constant companion, a similarly aged cub called Annilanshi. He wasn’t supposed to be in the nursery anymore because he was too old, but he found himself unable to leave his baby sister alone there. A seemingly permanent scowl crossed his features and knotted his brow as he kept his attention focused on the wobbly female cub across the room. He was so angry all the time, mostly because of his father’s resistance to claiming Kazhmere.
“Sathlir,” his mother said from where she was standing in the doorway to the nursery, watching him, “what are you doing in here? You have lessons that need finishing, my son.”
“I’m finished with the important parts, Mama,” he replied, scowling. “I’m just making sure that Kazhi is okay.”
“Of course she’s okay,” First Wife Savdhi said as she crossed the room to him and ruffled his hair. “I have made sure that the nannies that care for her are the best we have and…”
“Why don’t you take care of her?” Sath said suddenly, standing up and towering over his mother. She took a cautious step back from him. “Oh, that’s right, she’s not yours, is she because... your cub died at birth?” He glared at his mother, but she did not look away from him.
“Don’t you ever say that in public again, Sathlir,” she hissed. “We are here in this house at your father’s pleasure, and we must take care to follow his rules. He does what he thinks is best for the whole of the Qatu, you know that and -”
“Not anymore,” Sath replied, pushing past her. “It’s time that Papa and I had a talk.” He stalked down the hall, cracking his knuckles as his mother ran to catch up with him.
“Sathlir, no!” She grabbed his arm, but he threw her off and kept walking. “Please! Come back!” Her cries became a constant wail that he summarily ignored.
Sath nodded at the Sahi Kalah that stood guard outside the throne room where his father was working and threw open the doors, striding into the room with his head held high. “Father? I would have a word with you.” Rajah Qa Kahzlir, the ruler of Qatu’anari, sat at his desk, pouring over requests from his citizens. His posture and lack of attention to his son indicated that the day’s supplicants had been particularly difficult. After a few minutes, he looked up and smiled at his son.
“That’s awfully formal of you, Sath,” he growled. “Papa is busy right now. You need to come back later.” He resumed his work, looking up only when one of Sath’s hands landed flat on the page that he was reading. “Do not test me, son of mine,” the Rajah warned. Sath did not move, and the Rajah sighed loudly. “Clearly, there is something on your mind. Out with it, so you can leave me be.” Sath leaned forward, placing his other hand on his father’s desk. “Well? Out with it!”
“Kazhi is my sister,” Sath whispered slowly and clearly.
Immediately Kahzlir dismissed the Sahi Kalah that were at the four corners of the room, indicating that they should leave and shut the massive door behind them. “You will NEVER repeat those words within earshot of anyone outside of our family again, cub!” Kahzlir bellowed at Sath, standing up so that he and his son were eye to eye. “Do you understand me?”
“She deserves to know,” Sath responded, hissing the words as he stared deeply into his father’s eyes, the mirror image of his own. “Qatu’anari deserves to know! Did you not notice the Qatu mourning at the thought that the cub my Mama bore was dead? Mama deserves to be able to raise her daughter.”
“I know what is best for you and for your Mama, and for the citizens of Qatu’anari!” Kahzlir roared. “You, a mere cub yourself, think that you know better than I, your Rajah? Have I made a mistake naming you my heir?”
“You’re not my Rajah right now,” Sath said, a rumbly growl behind his words. “You’re just my Papa, and you’re Kazhi’s Papa too, and in this matter, you are wrong!” Kahzlir punched Sath squarely in the chest, sending his son flying across the room. Sath, though breathing heavily from the force of the blow, was immediately back on his feet and running at his father, who deflected each assault that Sath tried to land.
“Stop this, son, or I will call in my guard,” Kahzlir warned, panting
