Stone Rose 3 & 4

[maderr]

Chapter Three

Culebra stirred reluctantly from his snakes, giving each one that slithered away a fond caress, whispering soft goodbyes as he stood up. He smoothed his hands down his clothes, assuring himself the jacket fell properly, that nothing was on his breeches that should not be. He knew the pants were black, the jacket a soft gray to match his hair with black pearl buttons. Corinos always told him what exactly he wore.

Especially when he was meeting with his brother.

Oh, the days growing up when he had contemplated putting a snake in his brother’s bed.

Not a poisonous one, just one of those that looked particularly frightening to most people. So he could hear his brother scream like a little girl.

It had, however, never been worth the repercussions – they would have tried to take the snakes away, or keep him from them. Unbearable, especially when he was a child, because being born the Basilisk left him with even fewer friends than a prince might have. The snakes were all he’d had until Granito and Corinos.

Forcing himself to stop stalling, Culebra gave a last snake a farewell caress and then strode to the door.

“Highness,” Corinos greeted quietly, voice soothing Culebra’s nerves more than he liked admitting. It always had, right from the very beginning. A hand landed gently at the small of his back, a gesture that was unique to Corinos. Everyone else took his arm, some more gently than others. “Your brother sent word to meet him in the sunroom.”

Culebra grimaced. “Of course he did.”

The sunroom had been his parents favorite place to spend time simply with each other. Once a private salon, most of the wall and ceiling had been converted to glass panels. It caught sun nearly all day long and was still, as near as he could tell by scent and feel, the soft brown, gold, and cream his mother had chosen.

That, however, wasn’t why his brother preferred it. His brother preferred it because it was private; because no one but the two of them ever entered it. If Pruebas lost his temper, or acted in any way less than a perfect king, no one but his loathed brother would be witness.

Pruebas was a good king. He took care of the kingdom, kept relationships with foreign nations smooth and pleasant. The people loved him…he was a very good king.

He was also the most obnoxious brother to ever be born. “Take me too him,” Culebra said softly.

“How are your snakes?” Corinos asked as they walked.

“Well enough,” Culebra replied, frowning in thought. “Restless. I cannot determine why.”

“Perhaps it is the shifting weather,” Corinos said. “If I recall correctly, winter is not their favorite time of year.”

Culebra laughed softly, unable to help himself. Usually the castle kept the sanctuary warm enough, but one night those on shift had run late in their duties – the cold snakes had fled to Culebra’s chambers.

Servants, upon finding the menagerie there, had refused to enter his rooms for nearly a month.

He wished the snakes would flee to him more often.

“Here, Highness,” Corinos said softly. He didn’t need to say, really, but Corinos was nothing if not thorough.

Culebra nodded. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then simply stepped forward on his own, hand landing immediately upon the door handle.

“I will be waiting, Highness.”

Ignoring the relief he felt at hearing those word, Culebra strove for impatience. “You have better things to do than stand around a hallway, Corinos. Go do them.”

Corinos said nothing, meaning he would be waiting.

Culebra resisted slamming the door shut behind him, but only because that would immediately give Pruebas something to whine about.

“Culebra.”

“Pruebas,” Culebra greeted, his voice just as stiff as his brother’s. Once upon a time it had always hurt to hear that stiffness in his brother’s voice when Pruebas spoke to him. Eventually, he had just realized Pruebas didn’t know how to speak to him.

He knew how to speak to complete strangers, the nobles of his court…to everyone but his only remaining immediate family.

“What was all that at the funeral yesterday?”

“Yes, I would love some tea, thank you.” Culebra moved slowly, knowing the lay of the room but never certain how carefully the servants ensured everything was kept strictly in place. “Is that black beans and corn salad I smell?” It was one of his favorites. Pruebas never had special meals prepared for them; he just ordered the kitchens to prepare something. Culebra doubted the staff just happened to prepare his favorite for their lunch. They would have been a thousand times more likely to prepare Pruebas’s favorite. “What do you want?” he asked tiredly. “I can tell already that this isn’t simply going to be one of our usual terse conversations.”

Pruebas sighed. “You are as suspicious as your hideous pets.”

Culebra bit back the urge to defend his darlings, knowing he would be wasting his breath. Piety to the god he purportedly embodied was, apparently, not reason enough to treat snakes kindly. He didn’t understand why.

In his experience, humans were far more venomous.

A chill ran down his spine, spilling into a sick feeling in his gut.

Something about that thought frightened him. He should not think it. Such thoughts led to…Culebra swallowed and tried to regain his equilibrium, shoving the strange thought away. “What do you want, Pruebas?”

“Your birthday,” Pruebas said levelly.

He had not seen his brother since his eyes had been bound shortly after his thirteenth birthday. When he’d last seen Pruebas, his brother had been a dark, severe boy of sixteen, more interested in learning how to be king than in dealing with his little brother. Pruebas had been a handsome child, and he knew that had fleshed out into a handsome man. Pruebas would never allow otherwise.

“What about it?” Culebra asked. His birthday was never as grand as Pruebas’s. It was a much more formal affair, for as much as people might fear him they could not forgot that he was the mortal reincarnation of the Basilisk.

People might disagree on whether the Basilisk had once saved his people or betrayed them, but all agreed a god should not be disrespected. His birthdays were spent allowing the people to see him, to show their continuing respect for their god.

The Basilisk wasn’t as the other gods – the chaotic Storm Dragons, the fierce Firebird, the wild Queen and Guardians….nor even like the long lost gentle Licht. The Basilisk was stone, silent and steady. His realm was death, dying…to be under his care was a hard thing.

So offerings and prayers were made, to show that the people might now fear him, but they still respected their god.

For all that, Culebra still enjoyed it. The food, the stupid court had to be nice to him, so many of the common people were simply happy to have something different to do, too awed by him to be truly frightened. To them, he was just a myth come to life – the reality of his eyesight didn’t really hit them.

This year it might even snow. Usually his birthday was too early in the winter for snowfall…but oh wouldn’t it be fun…

“We are going to have to cancel the ceremonies.”

Culebra tensed, hands freezing on the teacup he had finally found – not where it should be, too far to the left. It would have hurt his feelings, except he’d long ago stopped letting his brother get to him. “What do you mean, cancel? You cannot simply cancel…”

“The final reports came in this morning, Culebra. There have been several reliable reports of increased activity within the Black Rose. We’ve also had reports of the White Rose reemerging. We cannot risk your safety.”

“You cannot cancel the ceremony. So many people will have already begun the journey here…and with the weather turning cold…”

“Messengers were sent out just a few hours ago, to begin spreading word that there will be no ceremony this year.”

Culebra sat in silence. “Surely precautions could be taken…no one would want to kill me.”

“You know very well that killing you isn’t what anyone wants, even if the Black Rose is forever saying otherwise. You are being stupid and selfish.”

With effort, Culebra bit back his temper. “Ah, yes. I could be a weapon. Does it occur to anyone that if it came to that, I could take care of myself? I’m blind, not stupid.”

“You are the mortal incarnation of the Basilisk of Piedre.”

“I’m aware of that,” Culebra snapped. “If you’re trying to tell me, for the millionth time, that I am failing to understand my position, save yourself the trouble. Believe me, brother, I am well aware of it. Far too aware of it. Now you are telling me that my one bright spot in the whole year is to be taken from me because everyone fears the Black Rose.”

“You know very well why they are feared,” Pruebas said, voice rising a notch. “Do you want end up like your ancestors? Is that it? So busy sulking and moping you cannot see the reality of the situation?”

Culebra curled his hands into fists in his lap. “I know, Pruebas. Better than you might think. I am only saying that I think perhaps you are overreacting. My birthday will not be the cause of my death.” He hadn’t sensed his own death yet, and he rather thought he would. Something told him…he couldn’t, however, tell his brother that. The very last thing he needed everyone to know was that he could sense those who were shortly going to die. That had always been the best part of traveling – away from his homeland, his strange power weakened. He had only just barely felt it, too late, before the mermaids attacked. The ocean…deep seas were not the best place for a stone prince to be. Even with the accompanying agonies, however, he would much rather be at home.

“Such arrogance will get you killed much faster,” Pruebas said. “Anyway, I did not say this decision was debatable. It is final.”

“Why did no one speak with me first?” Culebra asked, growing angry. “I am the Basilisk Prince, the mortal reincarnation of our most holy lord. The canceling of the ceremony should be my decision entirely; at the very least I should have had a say.”

“We think of your safety,” Pruebas said impatiently. “Try to be grateful for once in your life.”

“Do not speak to me that way,” Culebra snapped. “You have no idea how I think or feel about anything. Grateful. You have no idea what that word means. Is there anything else you wanted from me?” Stupid, foolish him for thinking this would merely be a simple lunch with his brother. They met once every week or so, just so everyone could see the siblings were getting along – that there was constant tension between them was not common knowledge.

Pruebas heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, actually. With the high threat of the Black Rose looming, and given we do not know where the White Rose stand or what they will do – I do not think it wise for you to leave the premises until it is believed safe for you to do so.”

“So not only are you taking away the ceremony, you are taking away my freedom? Will you attempt to take away my snakes as well? How about Corinos?”

“If your horrid pets disrupt another important ceremony, I will certainly consider taking them away. Perhaps it has escaped your notice, brother, but those things are deadly.”

Culebra smiled bitterly. “So am I. Does that make me horrid as well?”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Pruebas said dismissively, but his voice held the same faint thread of fear they all did. That anyone could kill if they were pushed far enough, or otherwise motivated, never seemed to enter their thoughts. A dog could kill as easily as a snake. Even a small mouse could do a great deal of harm when it was fighting for its life. No one thought of that. They just saw his covered eyes and feared.

“What else?” Culebra asked in resignation. “Shall I stay in my room?”

“Is there anywhere else you have to be?” Pruebas asked coldly.

“I do my duties!” Culebra said, hands fisting tightly in his lap. “Not once have I ever shirked my responsibilities, brother. I do all that you ask of me.”

“Except journey as you did before.”

The tension in his shoulders and back was becoming painful. It would take him hours, if not days, to work it all out. “Do not ask that of me,” he said, unable to keep the strain from his voice. “If I could do it, I would. I cannot.”

“You should overcome your fears,” Pruebas said, his voice calm. It was, Culebra knew, the closet his brother ever got to being gentle. Pruebas was an ass, but he was trying to help in the only way he knew.

Unfortunately, his way failed abysmally. All Pruebas did was make it painfully obvious which of them had always lived safe within the walls of the palace, loved and adored, and which of them had been shipped off frequently because his country was afraid. Which one of them had endured anything but a pampered life.

It had always struck him as amusing, for if anyone should have been spoiled and pampered, Culebra always thought it would have made more sense to tuck away the blind prince and keep him happily oblivious. Not that he wanted that, but he wondered if perhaps doing so would have made life easier for everyone.

Not that his brother was completely pampered – no, Pruebas knew how to work hard. He was just obnoxious and insufferable about it.

“Pruebas, we have been over this before. Do not make me bring it up again. Please…”

“I am saying only that perhaps you should consider trying again. You were good at it. You enjoyed it. Hiding away here will not make the fear abate.”

“You did not have to listen to them scream,” Culebra said, voice dropping to a whisper. “You did not smell the blood, the fear…you did not hear the mermaids. They hate those of us who live on land. I could hear it. I will not go on the ocean again, Pruebas. That my brother continually asks it of me…”

“I want what is best for you.”

“You want what is best for you,” Culebra said bitterly. “Whether or not the Black Rose take me does not concern you – your only concern is that they not do it where you might be seen in a poor light. You are going to keep me locked up in this castle so that nothing happens to me that might reflect poorly on you. I’m a burden, so far as you are concerned. Life was easier for you when I was kept in other countries.”

Pruebas started to speak, but Culebra pressed on, raising his voice to drown his brother out. “So you have taken my ceremony, my freedom, have threatened to take away my ‘horrid’ pets –are you next going to tell me that Corinos is no longer my bodyguard?”

“By all means keep Corinos,” Pruebas said.

Culebra almost smiled, to hear the frustration that slipped into Pruebas’s voice. His brother had never gotten along well with either of his bodyguards – Granito for being too flamboyant, Corinos for being too…bodyguard. Nothing kept Corinos from doing his job…and as he too often reminded Culebra, he had very personal reasons for protecting him.

Now was not the time to get distracted by those thoughts. He’d made his decision.

Of course, not being able to leave the palace was going to make things slightly more difficult. He had been planning to meet the man who would help him get away at Isabella’s old church. They had arranged to meet to finalize everything today.

“When does my confinement begin? I had planed—“

“Today of course,” Pruebas cut in. “Now, if you don’t mind, I—“

“Have better things to do,” Culebra interrupted in his turn. “Of course. I bid you good day, brother.”

“That is not what I meant,” Pruebas said sternly.

“It amounts to the same thing.” How depressing. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to eat.

He wasn’t terribly hungry anyway.

“I will see you later,” Pruebas said, sounding annoyed…and Culebra thought even weary, but he couldn’t say for certain. He understood his brother about as well as he could see him. The door closed with a click, leaving him alone in the sun room.

He remembered vaguely when his parents had been in this room. The way his mother laughed at his father’s awful jokes…the way they argued over the various matters of court, his father’s not so secret love of scandalous gossip…he and Pruebas had not been allowed in here often, as children, and so had enjoyed their few rare visits.

Somehow, the warmth of it had died with his parents. All he felt now was a slight chill. Pushing his chair back, Culebra turned slowly and walked in the direction of the door. His hand, when he reached out, landed on cool wood, and he slid down until his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the door handle.

When he opened, he stopped just outside, and held out a hand that Corinos immediately grasped. “Lunch did not go well, Highness?”

“How could you tell?” Culebra asked. He started to protest the hand that slid around to settle at the small of his back, the way Corinos gently pulled him closer, but in the end remained silent.

He didn’t, however, relax, or let Corinos pull him too close, leaving them standing awkwardly close in the hallway. It would be so easy, too easy, to just close the remaining space between them and let Corinos hold him…

Reminding himself that he was doing all this for Corinos, Culebra pulled away and forced himself to act as he should. “My brother has confined me to the palace. He has also informed me that my birthday has been cancelled.”

“What?” Corinos’s voice turned sharp, and something in Culebra eased to hear the slight hint of anger, because some part of him had feared that Corinos had something to do with the decisions. His bodyguard was the living definition of thorough – he would do whatever he thought necessary to protect his charge.

“You didn’t know?”

“Of course I knew of the reports, most of them come to me before they ever reach his Majesty…but I did not suggest such measures, Culebra.” That he used his name demonstrated just how stung Corinos was by the question.

Wholly without his permission, Culebra’s hands reached out to soothe in apology. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m just…” Utterly miserable, but he wouldn’t say that aloud. It was no one’s problem but his own if he wanted to sulk over the fact that he would not get to enjoy his birthday this year.

He’d felt like a prisoner ever since his sight was taken away. Being confined to the palace was not really so awful. He had Corinos and his snakes, and he would figure out how to adjust his plans to run away. Until then, he could wait and do as he was told.

Calloused fingers brushed across his cheek, and Culebra’s breath caught. He pulled away, though it took effort. “Don’t touch me so, bodyguard.”

“Culebra…”

“Don’t,” Culebra said tightly. “Just don’t.”

“I’m simply supposed to stand by and do nothing while you drown in misery? Why will you not let me—“

“Because it’s a bad idea.”

“No, it’s not,” Corinos said softly. “You’re just too hard on yourself.”

Culebra said nothing, merely turned and began striding down the hallway. He stiffened when Corinos caught up with him, hand falling into place at the small of his back.

“Are you returning to your room, Highness?”

“Yes,” Culebra said, striving to keep his tone indifferent. “My plans to go into town have been cancelled.”

They fell silent as they continued walking, broken only as Culebra responded to the greetings extended as they passed people in the hallway. No one stopped him to speak, or even lingered over their greetings, merely did exactly what was necessary and hurried on. He wondered how long they waited until they started whispering.

Back in his room, Culebra moved immediately to the fireplace. His room was a large, long rectangle. At the furthest end was a balcony. Right now, with the cold, both the glass doors and the heavier oak were closed and locked. Even in the heat of summer, Corinos preferred that. Luckily, Culebra could overrule him on a few things.

On that end of the room was a sitting area. He had no need of a writing desk or bookshelves, so it was merely filled with lounging chairs, a deep sofa, all manner of soft, textured pillows and blankets. Many a summer night he had dozed off while listening to the crickets, or to the music spilling in the windows from one of the myriad festivals or parties.

In the center of the room was his bed, with wardrobe and dressing table tucked into a small alcove that Corinos hated because it would be simple for someone to hide there. His bed was large, with heavy drapes that he kept tied back unless the nights were especially chilly. Corinos had told him everything was blue, black, and silver.

His favorite part of the room, however, was the fireplace. Set well back from it was the small table where he usually ate, and where he kept his bowl full of things that were interesting to touch, play with. More than anything he missed being able to read and write. He could still play music, though these days he seldom felt inclined, but otherwise the playthings in his bowl were all that kept him from going completely stir crazy.

Closer to the fireplace were large floor pillows, an idea he’d imported from Kundou. Those were spread out over a deep, soft fur rug that had been gifted to him in Pozhar. The snow that hit Pozhar was worse than he’d ever known anywhere else in the world. It was endlessly amusing that the Firelands knew better than anyone what the word ‘cold’ meant.

As often as he dozed off by the balcony in the summer, he fell asleep beside the fire in winter. “Corinos.”

“Yes, Highness?”

“Have a meal brought. Soup, I think. Tell everyone I am not to be disturbed the rest of the day. Send a note to my brother that I will not be at dinner.” He hesitated a moment, and then gave a mental shrug. “Some music would be nice, I think. What is the weather like, Corinos?”

“Dreary. Fall is not conceding gracefully to winter. I think there will be a frost tonight. Shall I summon a musician to play for you, Highness?”

Culebra shook his head. “I do not prefer the stiff music of the court musicians. They are too used to pleasing crowds.” Meaning they played the sort of music that was easy to listen to or ignore in favor of conversation.

“Yes, Highness,” Corinos said, a smile in his voice.

“Thank you,” Culebra said quietly, and turned to stare into the fire so as not to give away his own smile.

Corinos was first and foremost a bodyguard, but once upon a time he had shared the duty with Granito – though they were both nearly always present no matter which one was technically on duty at the time. Their mother had believed firmly in her sons learning more than the ‘manly art of solving every problem with violence.’ Granito had learned to carve – had, in fact, made many of the objects which filled Culebra’s bowl. Corinos had learned music, and was quite proficient with an instrument unique to Piedre – the guitarra. He kept his instrument in Culebra’s room, as he seldom bothered to play it unless Culebra asked.

Culebra settled himself more comfortably on the rug, stretching out so that he lay with his arms and head on a pillow, his right side toward the fire. He listened as Corinos sat down nearby – probably sitting so that he could see Culebra, the door, and the balcony – and began to tune his instrument.

“What would you like to hear, Highness?”

“How about one of those harvest songs?”

“As you wish.” Corinos played a few notes, checking the strings, getting comfortable, and then slowly fell into a steady, rhythmic tune, ideal for singing while working. Every now and then Corinos would hum or sing along with his playing; he wasn’t a great singer, but Culebra would much rather listen to his voice than even the most cultured of the court musicians.

The heat and music tried to lull him to sleep, and he was sorely tempted to give in – then he felt a familiar slithering along his leg, up to his back, until it stopped to coil up between his shoulder blades, head resting on one shoulder. Culebra laughed softly. “Hello, beauty. Come to enjoy the music, too?”

Nearby, Corinos snorted softly. “From the look of her, Highness, it is not the music she is enjoying.”

“Enough, Corinos, please.”

Corinos sighed. “Yes, Highness.” He shifted from one song into another, the second tune a winter song, slower, softer, almost sad, a song of everything vanishing in the cold and snow.

Something about the tune bothered him; always had. He did not like the idea of something being lost like that. Vanished. It wasn’t right. Nothing vanished. Winter hid it for a time, but spring always came. “A different one, please,” he managed.

“Of course,” Corinos said, shifting into another harvest song.

Culebra relaxed, letting out a soft sigh. He hated when his thoughts spun out of control. Sometimes it felt as though there were two different minds in his head. Perhaps there was. He didn’t feel like dealing with it, however.

Corinos sang softly as he played, and Culebra focused on his dark sugar voice, letting it drive away all those thoughts he didn’t want to deal with.



Chapter Four


The pounding had him up and moving before he was even awake, sword drawn and body tensed to attack whoever was intruding.

A heartbeat later Corinos realized someone was knocking hard enough on the door to break it down. He yanked it open and snarled at the servant – then realized the young guard was already terrified enough by whatever had driven him to pound on Culebra’s door in the dead of night. “S-sir. His Majesty demands to see his brother immediately.”

“Why?” Corinos asked sharply, unable to come up with any positive reason Pruebas would demand such a thing.

“Murder,” the guard replied. “A snake fatally bit Lady Marcela.”

“Ridiculous.” Culebra’s voice was sharp and cold as he appeared beside Corinos, hair mussed from sleep, robe only loosely pulled on. “My snakes would never kill anyone. Tell my brother I will be there as soon as I can.”

Corinos did not give the guard a chance to reply, closing the door in his face and immediately going around the room to light a few lamps, then to the wardrobe. Pulling out clothes, he strode back to where Culebra waited by the bed. “Highness, what do you think could have happened?”

“I do not know,” Culebra said grimly, “but my snakes are not responsible. Pruebas will love having this as a reason to finally get rid of them. Let him try.” He reached out and stroked Ruisenor as the snake reared up to rest her enormous head on his shoulder. “Shhh, my beauty…all will be well for the little ones.”

“She is troubled, Highness?” It would never fail to amaze him how Culebra understood snakes…how accepting he was of that ability. Snakes had once been revered in Piedre, but that had ceased with the death of the Basilisk, when no one was certain whether or not their god could be trusted.

He tried not to stare at the way Culebra’s long, elegant fingers stroked the blue-black scales of the enormous snake. “Of course. She…the other snakes look up to her…sort of in awe. They have never known another like her.”

“Has she never told you what she is?”

“She doesn’t remember, I think,” Culebra said slowly, thoughtfully. “I have never been able to tell for certain.” He smiled faintly. “She approves of you, you know. She would not let you touch her otherwise. You should do so more often.”

“As you wish, Highness,” Corinos said, lifting one brow as the snake turned her massive head toward him. He shrugged and reached out, his much rougher, calloused hand nowhere near as fine looking against her as Culebra’s. “I don’t know why I appeal.”

Culebra smiled sadly but did not reply.

Oddly enough, the sad smile cheered Corinos up. In his mind, there could only be a handful of reasons such a possessive snake – and it was obvious Ruisenor considered Culebra to be hers – would bother to ‘approve’ of someone. At least, he hoped.

He knew, on some level, but Culebra was always fighting it wasn’t he? Always pushing Corinos away…

Though he wanted badly to push it, he knew to let it be. “Here, Highness. I’ve chosen just black breeches and a white shirt.”

“Simple is best,” Culebra agreed and obediently stepped away from Ruisenor to let Corinos dress him. He sat down once his clothes were on so that he could tug on his boots.

Corinos tugged him up once he was finished, unable to resist letting his hands linger just a moment too long – then he grabbed the jacket he’d set aside and helped Culebra into it. “Come,” he said, and settled his hand on Culebra’s back to guide the prince as they traveled quickly through the halls.

Eventually they reached Lady Marcela’s room. Inside waited Pruebas and three guards.

“Culebra,” Pruebas said icily.

Corinos wanted to punch him. He hated when Pruebas spoke that way – as if Culebra were to blame for everything. He knew most of it was simply that Pruebas was as intimidated by his brother as everyone else, but with the doubly difficult position of being both king and his brother. The three year difference and Culebra’s uniqueness had kept the brothers from growing close as children…and the gap seemed to widen every day.

He stifled a sigh and shoved the thoughts aside. Right now, there were other things to focus on.

“Pruebas,” Culebra said. “What has occurred?”

“One of your wretched pets has killed Lady Marcela.”

Culebra frowned. “My snakes would not do that.” He suddenly knelt and extended one arm – from beneath the bed slithered a golden-brown snake. It immediately wound up and around Culebra’s arm, finally settling like a loose scarf around his neck. “This snake did not kill her. He is not even one of mine – until now. He was taken from the woods and brought here…they fed him a poisoned mouse to keep him sedated long enough….he was placed here.”

“How do you know all that?” Pruebas demanded.

“He told me,” Culebra said softly, head turned in the direction of his brother. “Snakes don’t lie.”

Pruebas sneered and Corinos bit back another urge to wipe it from his face. Truly, he always tried his best to bridge the gap between the brothers. Pruebas had his good points….his bad points just frequently made the good hard to remember.

To avoid punching Pruebas, Corinos took another look at the snake twined around Culebra, confirming what he’d seen at first glance. “Majesty, what his Highness says aside, that snake could not have bitten and killed Lady Marcela.”

“Oh?” Pruebas asked, clearly not believing him.

“There are many old volumes detailing the types of snakes that live in Piedre, as once our country held them quite dear. I have studied the volumes extensively, in order to know the creatures which his Highness loves, and am quite familiar with them. That particular snake could not have killed her because it is not venomous.”

Culebra murmured softly and the snake moved down his arm again, rearing its head and opening its mouth as Corinos continued to speak softly.

“See its teeth? Not the fangs of those who kill with poison. Nor does it have the glands which hold the poison. This snake strangles its prey.”

Around them, the room fell silent.

“Yet there are bite marks on the neck,” Pruebas said stubbornly. “Nor is there anyone but you to say this snake is not poisonous.”

“If you want to see a poisonous snake,” Culebra said, matching the cold tone his brother had earlier used, “I will be more than happy to call one for you.”

Corinos moved toward the bed to examine the corpse, one eye on Culebra. “Was the room thoroughly searched?” he asked the guards, not taking his eyes from the body.

Lady Marcela had been a beautiful woman, one of those who only grew more beautiful with age. She had a sharp wit that she’d never been afraid to use. No husband, more lovers than anyone could count. She had admired the Dowager Queen immensely. How sad that someone had killed her…

The bite marks were low on her right forearm…they did indeed look like a snake had attacked her…but it made no sense. It was stupid. Absurd. Whoever had done this clearly had not bothered to learn anything about snakes first. Foolish. Suspicious. Corinos frowned and began a more thorough examination, shifting aside the heavy braid of her hair, examining her dark skin, her nightdress. He threw aside the blankets and dispassionately opened the robe, ignoring the shocked, offended gasps from the guards. “Who found her?” he asked – but didn’t hear the reply as his gaze landed on the inside of her left thigh. A tattoo.

Of a white rose in full bloom. His breath hissed out between his teeth. “She bears the mark of the Brotherhood of the White Rose.”

“What!” Pruebas said, almost bellowing. “That is not possible.”

Corinos looked to the guards. “Out. Guard the door.”

“Yes, sir,” the guards said hastily, all but fleeing the room at his sharp tone.

“How would you know it’s not possible?” Corinos asked. “Majesty?”

Pruebas rolled his eyes. “How do you think it’s possible, Corinos?”

Corinos kept his expression blank. It was no concern of his who the king decided to bed…though he wondered what sort of lover failed to notice such a detail. “The tattoo is not recent, Majesty.”

“Well, she certainly didn’t have it, oh…three months ago?”

“I see,” Corinos said thoughtfully. “That only creates more questions. I would prefer to have answers.”

“As would we all,” Pruebas said with a grimace. “As to answer your earlier question – the shortest of the three guards you just frightened from the room was invited to Marcela’s room tonight. He slipped in a little while ago and found her dead, or so he says. Given his state, I am inclined to believe him. He fetched two of his friends, and they opted to fetch me, given the nature of the killing. I had them fetch Culebra.”

Culebra had remained silent during the discussion, simply listening and cuddling the snake in his arms. “What else do you see, Corinos?”

“The bite looks like a snakebite,” Corinos said, “but I don’t see how anyone could expect the deception to last long with you in the palace. No snake of that size would ever bother attacking a full grown woman in her sleep. They’d be far more likely to invade her room for a particularly juicy mouse…and there’s no need when food aplenty is available in the sanctuary. This murder makes no sense.”

“No other signs of death?” Culebra asked softly. “There is a strange smell in the air. Faint, sickly sweet.”

Corinos frowned. “I do not smell it.”

“Guide me to the bed,” Culebra requested, holding out a hand.

Immediately Corinos moved to take it, tugging Culebra close and guiding him to the side of the bed. He noticed the way Pruebas recoiled when Culebra bent down over the body and breathed in deeply.

Pruebas would never be comfortable with his brother, and that ensured that no one else would be either. Did he not realize that? No one knew the extent of the antagonism between them, but everyone knew there was something unhappy, and that made everything worse for Culebra.

Problems for another time. “What do you smell?” he asked.

“Sickly sweet, very faint…here…” Culebra reached out carefully, but with confidence in the action he was taking. His fingers landed on the tattoo of the white rose.

Corinos immediately reached out and snatched his hand away, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping off Culebra’s fingers. “You just touched her tattoo. It could be poisonous. We need to wash your hand.”

“It won’t kill me,” Culebra said quietly. The certainty in his voice was chilling – he said it the same way he had once told Corinos that his snakes would kill on Culebra’s command.

“Be that as it may, Highness, I would be happier if you washed your hand.”

“As you wish,” Culebra said, and Corinos stilled in surprise that Culebra would use his own words. He tucked it away to ponder later, and led Culebra to the washstand near the bed. He dumped out the water already in the bowl and poured fresh from what remained in the pitcher, then handed Culebra a clean towel from the shelf below. “Here, Highness.”

Culebra taken care of, he returned to the bed and contemplated the tattoo. He wiped it with his handkerchief, which he then held to his nose. There is was. A faint, sickly-sweet smell. Poison that could go through skin…he had, of course, heard of such things. Not in relation to the Brotherhoods, however. Still, things changed over time. Was this something the White Rose had done? A trick of the Black Rose? That seemed far more likely…though that still left far too many questions. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “This is explaining nothing. Majesty, I would say—”

“I know what to say,” Pruebas said coolly. “I will keep everything as quiet as possible; I expect you to figure out what happened and why someone desired to frame my brother.”

“Yes, Majesty,” Corinos said.

“It is time to go then,” Culebra said. “I know you are king, Pruebas, but that does not mean you may order my bodyguard around. Investigating what happened to Lady Marcela risks taking him away from his first duty, which is protecting me. In light of our conversation this afternoon, that seems an exceptionally stupid thing to do.”

“Watch your tone.”

“Oh, I was most careful about which tone I used,” Culebra retorted. “Corinos is mine. If you want to give orders, fetch the guard you should be dismissing for consorting with a courtier.”

Pruebas’s tone was condescending as he replied, “If I did that, I would have very little staff left, my naïve little brother.”

“If you dismissed them, the rest would be more inclined to behave.”

“Now is not the time,” Corinos cut in sharply. “Highness, I think we are ready to return to your room, if that suits you.”

“It suits me fine.”

Corinos bowed to Pruebas, who ignored him, and guided Culebra from the room. “Thank you, Highness.”

“He should not speak to you so,” Culebra said. “He has thousands of guards and other staff who are fit to investigate a murder with complete discretion. He had no business snatching away my bodyguard.”

The possessiveness went a long way toward soothing Corinos’s mood. “I also thank you, Highness, for helping me determine the cause of death. I could not smell the poison until you pointed out where it lay.”

Culebra shrugged. “My senses are acute, especially my sense of smell…” His voice dropped to a thin whisper. “Especially where death is concerned.”

“Highness,” Corinos frowned, wondering what Culebra really wanted to say. Something was bothering him. Pressing him on it, however, would only guarantee the prince remained silent. “Your new snake is quite lovely. Golden-brown, thin…some sort of larger garden snake, I believe. Did you want to take him to the sanctuary?”

“No. I think I’ll keep him in my room tonight.” Culebra frowned. “It is my turn to thank you, Corinos, for so quickly pointing out how ridiculous it was to think this snake killed anyone. He obviously wasn’t going to listen to me.”

Corinos ran his fingers in slow circles along the small of Culebra’s back. “No one will take away your beauties, Highness. I think if he tried, your brother would only find his own room flooded with them night after night until he permitted them to return to the sanctuary.”

Culebra threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing down the silent halls. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but his chuckles still did not abate for several more minutes. “That would be a fine sight, to see snakes flooding Pruebas’s chambers. My brother would have an apoplexy. Can you imagine his face should he find Ruisenor in his bed?”

“I think we would discover just how fast his Majesty can run,” Corinos said with a soft chuckle of his own. It took every last bit of his willpower not to stop them right there in the hallway and taste that laugh, that smile. So rare, to see Culebra happy or amused, and he liked being the one who had done it. His hand tightened unconsciously where it lay against Culebra’s back.

“So what are your thoughts?” Culebra asked as his laughter finally faded.

“I think whoever tried to make it look as though your snakes killed her did not expect us to realize the tattoo was the cause. It was glaringly obvious a snake did not kill her…but without your nose everyone would have seen no other cause of death, and the snakes would have been blamed regardless. I cannot see the reasons, and that is frustrating. Not once have I ever suspected Lady Marcela of such things. It is rare for any of the nobility to dirty their hands by getting involved with the Brotherhoods…at least to the point that they wind up dead in their beds.

“Now I am curious as to why she was fond of Isabella…and why she slept with my brother.”

Corinos grimaced. “I do not think we need to wonder, not if she truly was a White Rose.” He opened the door to Culebra’s room as they reached it.

“It makes me wonder who else I know has joined leagues with the Brotherhoods.”

Corinos hesitated, then sighed and closed the door, then turned to face Culebra. “The priest you’ve been working with to run away was a Black Rose.”

Culebra froze. “You knew.”

“Of course I knew,” Corinos said quietly. “I am your bodyguard. It is my duty. I love you. I would not let you run. Not from me.” He reached out to take Culebra’s arms.

The prince jerked way, recoiled, retreated to his bed, sitting down hard, arms going immediately to the massive snake that looped once around his waist. “You knew this whole time,” he said, voice hard with accusation. “When were you going to tell me? When it all came down around my ears and I was left looking like a fool? Hoping to teach me a lesson, bodyguard?”

“No,” Corinos said sharply. “Do you think it made me happy to learn that you were trying to run from me? That you cared so little about all I have ever offered that you would simply vanish in the night? Why, Culebra? Why do you constantly hide and run from me? I know you love me.”

“Stop it!” Culebra said, nearly shouting, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t. You shouldn’t. I have said it a million times, it is a bad idea.”

“Why?” Corinos demanded. He strode to the bed and pulled Culebra to his feet, heedless of Ruisenor, who merely unwrapped herself from Culebra and coiled up in the bed. Corinos tightened his grip as Culebra started to struggle. “Why is it a bad idea? Do you trust me so little? Have I not made it clear a thousand times that I love you? That nothing about you repulses me? I have always tried to be here for you, Culebra.”

“Who ever said I didn’t trust you?” Culebra said bitterly.

“Culebra…” Corinos sighed and let go of his arms, sliding hands over his shoulders and down his spine, wrapping his arms around Culebra’s waist, ignoring the prince’s continued protests. “I have said before you will not kill. Do not tell me you believe the foolish curses. I have lived this long.”

“Of course I don’t believe in what everyone says. I know how I am and am not cursed. Let me go.”

“I will not,” Corinos said softly. “Not until you see reason.”

“Reason?” Culebra laughed sadly, half-wildly. “I have plenty of reasons. My parents. Isabella. G-Granito. All of them.”

“You did not kill them.”

“I may as well have,” Culebra said.

Corinos frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Let me go, Corinos, please.”

It was the desperate ‘please’ that made him, the wrenching, desperate plea too startling for him to think to refuse. “Culebra, what is wrong? You are not responsible for their deaths.”

Culebra immediately moved away, arms wrapped around himself as if in an effort to ward off a chill. “I knew they were going to die, though…except Granito. I didn’t sense his death, not until too late. I always…smell it. Feel it. Months before it happens.”

He tried to process what Culebra was saying and could not. Surely not. No one could bear such a burden. “You…can sense who is going to die? When?”

“Not when. Not exactly. Just whether it is months or weeks or days away.” Culebra licked his lips. “I only ever told Isabella. She asked me…I told her yes…”

“Granito?” Corinos asked.

Culebra shook his head furiously back and forth. “When we left here – nothing. Being away from Piedre always…dampens everything. We were in Kundou for months, and my….power…goes dormant there. So too in Pozhar. On the journey home, I did not sense it until we woke when the mermaids attacked.”

Pain lanced through Corinos as he realized just how deeply Culebra’s suffering ran. “Culebra, why did you never tell me…”

“How could I?” Culebra said, backing away as he heard Corinos moved forward. “How could I tell anyone? Do you know what it’s like? To know that someone is going to die but not being able to say? Not being able to do anything? If people knew…they would expect me to change things. I can’t do it. I can’t!” Culebra backed up into the door, then slid to his knees.

Corinos ached to help him up, to hold him close – but he sensed that to do it now would not help at all. “You’ve tried.”

“No,” Culebra said, and Corinos felt a sudden chill. Something about the prince’s voice had suddenly changed, as quickly as that. It was firmer. Deeper. “To tamper with lives so is to go against the decisions we made. My power is not to be abused so. I sense death. Nothing more.”

“Highness…”

“Back to Highness?” Culebra asked sadly.

It made Corinos blink, stare. The prince he knew stood before him, no sign of the strange moment present.

“Every day I wake up fearing I will smell death on you, Corinos. Do you know what that would do…”

“Culebra—”

“Leave me alone! I am going to my sanctuary. Do not disturb me.” With that, Culebra yanked open his bedroom door, then slammed it shut behind him.

Corinos let him go, for once, frowning in thought. He sat down on the edge of Culebra’s bed, slowly processing all that the argument had revealed. At least now he understood the reasons for Culebra’s reticence, the way he constantly fought against what was between them.

As usual, Culebra had been attempting to fight all his battles alone – and a burden as heavy as sensing who was shortly going to die was something no person should have to endure.

Except that one chilling moment that Culebra seemed not to recall had made it crystal clear that Culebra was no ordinary person. Far more than the deadly eyes of the Basilisk resided in him. He wondered if Culebra realized it.

He wondered what it meant.

More than any of that, he wondered how he was going to convince Culebra that none of it mattered to him…though it wasn’t about him, was it? Culebra had all but said he could not bear it to someday smell death on Corinos. Didn’t he see, though, that keeping his distance only made everything worse?

Let Culebra have some time to himself, amongst his snakes. He would fetch him in a few hours and they would work everything out. Somehow. Corinos tensed as a ponderous weight wrapped around him, and then he found himself staring into the hooded eyes of Ruisenor. “Lady…” he said cautiously, slowly lifting up a hand, tensing as a long, forked tongue flicked out. Then Ruisenor leaned ever so slightly forward, nudging his hand, and he slid his fingers over her head, down her shining blue-black scales. After a moment, the snake bobbed its head, then turned and slithered away from him toward the fire, curling up on the fur rug. She looked for all the word like the gigantic shadow of some strange, unseen creature.

Corinos shook his head, tired from all that had happened that night, and grabbed his sword before moving to join Ruisenor beside the fire. He would force himself to wait a few hours, and then go fetch Culebra. His safety was not an issue – no one went into the sanctuary. They would not dare.

Comments

[bare-bear.livejournal.com]

*delurks* Sorry, random stranger again.

I wasn't gonna do it. I was planning on waiting until the entire story was up before starting it. Did I follow the Plan? No. I was too curious to meet the Prince again. Am I satisfied? Okay, yeah. Just cuz I like the Prince. But I want MORE, and now I have to be Patient. *pouts*

*runs into dark corner and lurks again*