Page 7 of The Omega Slave

“My thanks, uncle,” Kamir said carefully. “I appreciate the time to recover and to discover what happened.” Gabar bowed and clapped his hands. Slaves rushed in with food and wine.

“I have already initiated an investigation, my Caliph.”

Kamir blinked in shock.Caliph?He wouldn’t have the right to be called so until after he was crowned the emir, and Caliph was a title reserved for very close family members, mates even. Gabar might be his uncle, but they were never close. What in seven hells was Gabar up to?

“And I have recalled the Rajpuran imperial forces to secure our borders.”

Ah, so that was what he was up to. He still intended to make all the decisions and thought Kamir would just capitulate. He thought stroking Kamir’s ego was all it took, except Kamir had no choice at the moment. He still didn’t understand why his uncle had granted him a seven-day respite, which meant his uncle wasn’t sure of the ground beneath his feet. Which meant logically, he wasn’t sure Kamir was going to shift into a dragon again.

But then, neither was Kamir. He hesitated for a moment, then stood and accepted the robe Mansala passed him. He was used to many different slaves seeing his body and had long since ceased feeling discomfort. “I wish to dress, and then I will viewthe bodies of the deceased and say prayers for their acceptance with the goddess.”

Gabar hissed in a breath, which showed how rattled he was. “Highness, I am sure the people wouldn’t expect you to further distress yourself.”

“I thank you for your care, Uncle, but we both know this would be the least they expect.” And Kamir knew he had him. Gabar couldn’t naysay an age-old tradition. Putting off a party was entirely appropriate to respect the dead, but Kamir’s presence would be marked if he didn’t say the prayers, and as long as Gabar was determined to treat Kamir as the emir, he intended to act like one.

He caught Veda’s calm gaze and knew she had realized he was searching for a particular body. “I will accompany you,” she said respectfully and fastened her veil, as no female could be seen in public without one.

It took barely a few minutes for Mansala to dress him in dark mourning robes, including the deep purple sash that only the ruler of Rajpur wore, the one that had been taken from his father’s dead body and placed on his own. In those few private moments, he shared with Mansala what had happened as far as he knew, and what Veda had told him about his eyes and hair which it was clear Mansala saw as well. Mansala never hesitated. “Let me know what you need,” he said. “I assume this is why we are viewing the dead?”

Kamir sighed. “Not just.”

“You didn’t kill them, my lord.”

Kamir gazed at his best friend. “But I might as well have.”

“Said every general in every war ever,” Mansala pointed out. “I don’t know what happened, but I agree with the princess. Your uncle’s behavior makes no sense, but we need to take advantage of the reprieve.”

Kamir took a deep breath. “Let us go.”

He really didn’t want to. His heart hurt at the thought that the slave would be among the dead. If he saw his body, Kamir would turn and hand the sash to Gabar himself. He didn’t know what had happened in that room, but Kamir had met his soul mate. For one perfect moment, he had been happy.

He just didn’t know what he would do if he was dead, and he wasn’t sure his kingdom wanted to find out.

Chapter four

Kamir did his best to comfort the grieving, feeling utterly useless and a fraud, as he often did. The first crying woman that had run toward him begging blessings to ensure her husband would be accepted into the afterlife was blocked by the guards and Mansala himself, but Kamir quickly dismissed the order and held her as she sobbed. He went to each pallet and repeated blessings. Some had grieving families, some were alone. He had to see the soldiers first and managed to keep his stomach in check as he saw the horrific injuries many had died from.

Many bodies had been burned beyond all recognition, and there were at least five they were struggling to identify. Veda followed silently behind him, but he knew she missed nothing.

He gave each dead soul the blessing of the goddess, then got to the last pallet and held his breath. He was ashamed of the tiny amount of relief he felt when he saw from the uniform it was a soldier.

“Where are the other bodies?” Kamir asked the attendant as carefully as he could, heart in his mouth. Would he know if theslave was dead? But that made no sense. If he was the dragon, he had apparently killed all these people. Kamir struggled not to vomit and to remain impassive in front of the body attendant.

“Eminence,” the attendant bowed low, and Kamir didn’t react to yet another title. Yet another name. Highness, Eminence, Caliph. He didn’t deserve any of them. “There are five we have been unable to identify, but we think from the jewelry that didn’t burn that none were soldiers.”

Kamir turned and strode from the room, struggling not to heave up what little water and fruit he’d consumed several hours ago. Everything in him screamed that this was wrong, and yet he’d felt the change, seen the slave look up at him, touch his face.

“Brother,” Veda whispered and caught up to him, knowing he was distressed.

Kamir paused, but they weren’t alone. At least three guards and four servants were listening. “I will retire to my private prayer room and seclude myself. You may join me, sister.”

Veda bowed her head and followed him and Mansala. When they got to his chambers, they both disappeared into the small sanctuary. Mansala closed the door and turned to stand guard outside. There were not many that would dare to cross him.

Kamir sank to the floor, his hand flying to his mouth. Veda quickly got some wine from the back and tried to hand it to him, but the smell of the potent red turned his stomach further.

“I can’t bear this,” he said.

“Kamir,” Veda sank down next to him. “I agree that none of this makes sense, but you aren’t capable of killing—”

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