The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(283)
Shahar threw me a scathing look. “You think the slaughter of innocent mortals is funny?”
“No, it’s horrific, and I will hear their screams in my soul for the rest of existence,” I said in my coldest tone. She flinched. “But if you’re afraid of being seen as weak, then you have limited options. Either do something to prove your strength—and in Arameri terms, strength means ruthlessness—or quit now and tell your mother to make someone else heir. Which she should do, in my opinion, if she’s right and you aren’t strong enough. The whole world will be better off if you never inherit.”
Shahar stared at me for a moment. Hurt, I realized, because I’d been deliberately cruel. But I’d also told the truth, however unpleasant she might find it. I’d seen the carnage that resulted when a weak or foolish Arameri took over the family. Better for the world and for Shahar, because otherwise her relatives would eat her alive.
She rose from the chair and began to pace, folding her arms and nibbling her bottom lip in a way that I might have found endearing on another day and under better circumstances.
“What I don’t understand is why your mother wants me here,” I said. I stretched out my offensively long legs and glared down at them. “I’m not even a good figurehead, if that’s what she’s thinking. My magic is dying; anyone who looks at me can see that something’s wrong. And she wants me to keep my godhood secret anyhow. This makes no sense.”
Shahar sighed, stopping her pacing and rubbing her eyes. “She wants to improve relations between the Arameri and the gods. It’s a project her father began—mostly because you stopped visiting Sky when her grandfather, T’vril Arameri, died. She’s been sending gifts to the city’s godlings, inviting them to events and so on. Sometimes they actually show up.” She shrugged. “I’m told she even courted one as a potential husband. He didn’t accept, though. They say that’s why she never married; after being turned down by a god, she couldn’t settle for anything less without being seen as weak.”
“Really?” I grinned at the idea of cold Remath trying to win one of my siblings’ love. Some of them might have been amused enough to allow a seduction. Which one had she propositioned? Dima, maybe; he would mount anything that held still long enough. Or Ellere, who could match any Arameri for hauteur and preferred stiff types like Remath—
“Yes. And I suspect that’s why she tried to give me to you.” I blinked in surprise, and Shahar smiled thinly. “Well, you’re too young for her tastes. But not mine.”
I leapt to my feet, taking several quick steps back from her. “That’s insane!”
She stared at me, surprised by my vehemence. “Insane?” Her jaw tightened. “I see. I had no idea you found me so repellent.”
I groaned. “Shahar, I’m the god of childhood. Would you please think about that for a moment?”
She frowned. “Children are perfectly capable of marriage.”
“Yes. And some of them even have children themselves. But childhood doesn’t last long under those conditions.” I shuddered before I could stop myself, folding my arms over my chest to match her posture. Paltry, inadequate protection. Impossible not to think of groping hands, grunting breaths. So many of Shahar’s forbears had loved having a pretty, indestructible, never-aging boy around—
Gods, I was going to be sick. I leaned against the desk, trembling and panting.
“Sieh?” Shahar had drawn near, and now she touched me, her hand warm against my back. “Sieh, what’s wrong?”
“What do you do for fun?” I took deep breaths.
“What?”
“Fun, damn you! Do you do anything but scheme in your spare time, or do you actually have a life?”
She glowered at me, and her petulance made me feel just a little better. I turned and grabbed her hand and dragged her across the room, onto Deka’s modestly sized bed. She gasped and tried to pull free of me. “What the hells are you doing?”
“Jumping on the bed.” I didn’t take my shoes off. Worked better with them on. I stood awkwardly in the soft middle of the mattress and hauled her up with me.
“What?”
“You’re supposed to try and keep me happy, right?” I took her by the shoulders. “Come on, Shahar. It’s only been eight years. You used to love trying new things, remember? I offered to take you cloud jumping once and you leapt at the chance, until you remembered that I was a baby-killing monster.” I grinned, and she blinked, outrage fading as she remembered that day. “You kicked me down the stairs so hard I actually got bruises!”