Born of Legend (73 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Legend
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Instead, Jullien had willingly given up his Andarion inheritance when he put his mother in power. It would have been easy during the Andarion coup and riots to kill off his entire eton Anatole family, and to have emerged as the sole survivor of that mess. No one would have suspected anything, given the way the Andarions had gone after the royal family.

Had he wanted to, he could have seized the Andarion throne and then taken his father's empire in the blink of an eye. Hell, with the turmoil that rapidly followed on Kirovar, Jullien could have even made a play for theirs, too. Since Bastien's mother, their queen, was the younger sister of Jullien's father, Jullien had as much blood rights to it as Barnabas did.

More so, really.

But that wasn't the cousin Bastien remembered from his childhood. While they hadn't been close, the Jullien he recalled had always tried to stay low and in the shadows. Off everyone's radar. True to Aros's words, his studious and portly Andarion cousin had been sullen and quiet. Extremely reserved, and at times rude. Bastien had assumed it came mostly from the language barrier and Jullien's frustration with their strange, “foreign” customs, which were seldom explained to him until after he'd unknowingly violated them and he was mortified and ridiculed when his father or another relative made a grand show of publicly correcting him for it.

Because Jullien was seldom allowed to visit his father, his Universal had been extremely difficult to understand through his thick Andarion accent, and he'd spoken even less Triosan and no Kirovarian—which everyone kept insisting he answer them in. Uncle Aros had refused to allow Jullien a translator, since as a prince of the empire, he “needed” to know and speak the people's language. Then they would laugh and mock him when he spoke with a childish vocabulary and syntax, which understandably had made Jullien even more churlish and silent. Withdrawn and belligerent. It got so bad at one point that Jullien refused to speak even when their grandfather tried to beat answers out of him.

Bastien flinched as he recalled that afternoon of them striking Jullien, and Jullien standing there, unflinching with every blow, but willfully silent through every bit of it. He'd never seen anyone stand so strong, especially at such a young age.

It was why Bastien had attempted to learn Andarion. That had given him a whole new appreciation for Jullien's intellect. God knew, Andarion was one screwed-up language. Hard to pronounce and harder still to comprehend if you weren't born to it.

Honestly, he'd always felt sorry for Jullien. He'd seemed horribly lonely and sad. Wounded even. He seldom smiled. Always looked at the world around him through those dark glasses with a suspicious frown, as if waiting to get slapped or kicked.

While Bastien's father had been doting and kind, Aros wasn't. At least not to Jullien. Aros might bring presents and praise for Bastien and his siblings, but he'd always complained about Jullien's obesity, Andarion traits, and mannerisms. His red-tinted glasses that he had to wear. The way he rolled his
r
s and
l
s. His father had accused him of lisping like a toddler when he spoke, but it wasn't a lisp. More like a deep brogue or growling sound.

Basically everything Julie did got on his father's nerves. In fact, all Bastien remembered from family get-togethers was Aros relentlessly dogging his son.
Sit up. Stand straight. Sit down. Your coat's crooked. You mispronounced that. Why can't you learn how to greet a human? Stop slouching. Are you paying attention? Where's your head? Did you hear what I said? Or are you too stupid to understand it?

Their grandfather had been even more critical and cold. Mostly because he couldn't stand the Andarions, and he'd been infuriated that his grandson and future heir was one of their dreaded breed. Furious at Aros, he'd taken his rage out on Jullien as if it were all his fault that his father had slept with his mother.

Every time Jullien came to visit, Quinlan had gone to war on both Aros and Jullien, making both their lives hell until Jullien was returned to Andaria.

Now Bastien sighed as he watched his cousin searching through files.

Yeah, Julie knew an entirely different Triosan grandfather than the doting old man who'd bounced Bastien and his siblings on his knee. And that made him saddest of all. He had a hard time reconciling how his grandfather could be so kind to him and so hard on Jullien, who'd never deserved such harsh treatment. It'd really screwed with him as a kid to see those different sides of his family.

Made him extremely suspicious of people in general.

Sadly, not suspicious enough. If he'd been a bit more, he might have seen Barnabas's treachery coming before it was too late.

Jullien scooted the chair back from the desk for Thrāix to lean in. “This is it. But it's not really helpful. Venik has a secured base that's unknown to The Tavali outside of his Nation. He had it built for my cousin as a precaution should something happen to him, so that Malys wouldn't be able to kill Nyran or Parisa in a jealous rage. I will lay odds that's where my grandmother is.”

Thrāix studied the schematic. “That's so deep in their territory … and the Phrixians. We go near that, they'll know.”

Jullien raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “We've got to do something. I can't let them kill my family. She's not going to stop trying for my mother's throat.”

The woman with him rubbed his shoulder. “At least your immediate family is safe from them.”

“That's not good enough.”

“You know…” Bastien moved forward to access another database of old smuggler routes. “There are some ancient trading wormholes that aren't in use anymore in that sector. They don't really appear on most maps.” He showed it to Jullien. “I stumbled across this one back when I went through a teenage phase we won't talk about.”

Jullien snorted. “I remember that phase.”

“And we're not talking about it.” Bastien pointed to one of the routes that paralleled the station's orbit. “That would drop you in, clear of their surveillance.”

Jullien nodded as he studied the map. “Mind if I take a copy?”

“It's all yours.”

He quickly downloaded it.
“Thöky.”

Bastien's eyes widened at his use of the Kirovarian term for
thanks
. “Glad I could help.”

Jullien jerked his head toward the door. “Want to see about that shower?”

“You know I do.”

“We can also drop you somewhere else. Really, I don't mind.”

Bastien shook his head. “As much as I would, I better stay put. This place plays havoc with League tracking equipment and most electronics. Not sure why Aksel's shit works. But this is the safest place I've found to bed down. While it's not much, it gives me peace of mind at night. I know I don't have to tell
you
what that's worth.”

No, he didn't. Sad to say, Jullien would have killed for a run-down safe shit-hole like this to call home before Ushara took him in. But even so, he hated to leave Bastien like this.

Desperately, he wanted to offer him Safe Harbor, but since he wasn't a Canted member of the Nation, he didn't have the right to make that invitation. And while Unira had her Canting, she was terrified of Trajen and would never dare bring someone wanted by The League near their base.

Thrāix wasn't Tavali and, like Jullien, couldn't extend it on Trajen's behalf. That being said, the Trisani glanced around. “You want me to make the place a little more hospitable?”

Bastien frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I have some skills that can clean this place up and make it more solid and habitable … if you want.”

A slow smile broke across Bastien's face. “A solid roof that doesn't leak during the rare rains we have would be incredible. But don't make it too inviting. I don't want it to attract any undue attention. Only things I want crawling in here are the spiders and insects.”

“Got it.”

Jullien led Bastien and Unira toward their ship.

Bastien frowned at the ship's name on the side that was written in Andarion. “
Pet Hate
?”

Jullien grinned as he lowered the ramp. “Seemed fitting for me.”

Shaking his head, Bastien laughed. “Damn, Julie, you look
so
different from the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, I'm surprised you recognized me.”

“I would always know my favorite cousin.”

He arched a brow at that. “Not how I remember our relationship.”

Bastien grinned. “I will admit that you intimidated me.”

That admission stunned him. “What?”

“Honor to the gods. Yeah. You were massively tall and huge. Twice my size, and you always wore a frowning expression that said you were contemplating the death and dismemberment of the next person who made the mistake of speaking to you.”

Unira passed a curious look at Jullien. “Did you?”

“No. Honestly, the frown came from my confusion as I tried to understand what they were saying to me. Triosans speak fast, and their accents are incredibly thick and unlike the language files we were given in school. The court dialect was completely different from what I'd been taught.”

Bastien nodded. “He's right. It took me a few minutes to reacclimate every time I visited. But man, Julie, that's not what it looked like on your face. Your expression was one of perpetual pissed off. Not that I blame you for it.… Yet even so, I always looked forward to seeing you.”

“Why? You mostly ignored me.”

“I always sat by you, if you remember.”

Jullien scowled as he thought back to their childhood and vaguely recalled that fact. Bastien
had
done that.

Bastien grinned at him. “I just always thought you had some kind of secret knowledge the rest of us lacked. And I wanted to know more about Andarions and if they were as different from us as everyone claimed. Because honestly, you didn't seem like you were all that strange to me.”

“Thanks … I think.”

Bastien winked as Unira laughed before she headed down the hallway that led toward the bridge. Sobering, Bastien narrowed his gaze on Jullien. “In all seriousness, though, you look really good now, and not just more fit and trim. You look happy. Like there's a weight missing from your shoulders. I don't know what happened to you, but I hope it's as good as it seems. You deserve to have some peace from the hell they gave you.”

Jullien pulled the glasses down past his eyes so that Bastien could see their true red shade.

Bastien gaped. “What's the Andarion term for that?”

“Stralen.”

“Means you're married, right?”

Jullien nodded as he replaced his glasses. “To an amazing female. Like your Alura.”

Tears filled his eyes as anger curled his lip. “For your sake, I pray she's nothing like Alura. That faithless bitch is one of the reasons I'm here.”

“I'm sorry, Bas. I didn't know.”

“Yeah. Neither did I. Until it was too late.”

Feeling bad for the man, Jullien took him to his room and showed him where the shower was. He pulled out some of his own clothes for him. “Take whatever you need.”

Inclining his head, Bastien stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

While Bastien showered, Jullien went to the galley to make him something hot and nourishing to eat, and to pack him some better supplies.

Unira joined him. “It's really decent what you're doing for your cousin.”

“He was always a good kid.”

“Still, it has to be hard for you.”

Jullien pulled down their canned supplies. “Not as hard as I would have thought.”

“Meaning?”

He paused to look at her. “I think I've finally listened to you, Matarra, and learned to let the hatred in my past go, and find peace with it, and with my birth family.”

She arched a quizzical brow.

He laughed at her shocked expression. “I know. I didn't think I'd ever be able to forgive any of them, either. Now … I just don't want to see him suffer.”

Unira pulled his head down so that she could place a kiss on his forehead. “
M'tana
 … today you have become
il Pryne Kadurr.
You no longer fight with fury in your heart. You have transcended to the next level and have found the
Træxeri.
The rarest of rare. I envy you that. It is said that only one in every ten generations will ascend to such a state, and here you have.”

With a wry grin, he hugged her. “Don't give me too much credit, Matarra. I'm still a surly war-beast.”

Laughing, she pulled away. “You will have a new mastery of your powers when you fight now. Especially your fire. Mark my words.”

Jullien didn't believe it for a second, but he didn't want to contradict her either. He felt no differently. Not really. Other than he'd been in Bas's worn-out shoes and he knew how hard it was to be alone in the universe, without friend, ally, or even a pet to call your own. It was a fate he wished on no one other than his grandmother.

His heart heavy, he finished preparing the meal and packing supplies, then returned with them to his room to find Bastien coming out of the head. He had the towel wrapped around his face and was inhaling the fresh scent of it as if it were a bouquet of flowers. Sadly, Jullien had been there, too.

“You can have some of the towels, if you want.”

Bastien actually blushed. “Pathetic, right?”

“Not about to judge. You don't want to know how sorry my state was when my wife found me.” He handed the tray to Bastien, who attacked it with much the same fervor he'd frightened Ushara with on the day they met.

And like him, Bastien cringed the moment he realized that he'd become more animal than sentient being. “Sorry.”

“Again, no apologies. Ever. I get it.”

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