Page 34 of Impaled By His Omega Prince
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lumic
It’d only taken a few days for them to start work on the font, tapping into the flow of water that led to their baths. The wall opposite had been a storage room for some time, and before that had been a prayer room. The mosaic glass windows set to take in the phases of the sun and moon. The floor lay covered with rugs that had been eaten by generations of woolymoths, the brown, tatty-winged fuzzy little bastards that loaded their bellies on sugarmoth silk and all manner of fiber. Beneath that lay a beautifully inlaid floor with thalmic sigils inlaid with golden wire in effigy of the goddesses.
Preserving the floors was their first priority, because that seemed right, somehow. Even as Kershai and their craftsmen delicately opened one of the walls to access the pipes, Askara stayed close by and helped, learning his thalmwork little by little as he went. Even Kershai, as uneducated about magic as he was, could help Askara with the little things.
That morning had seen Lumic at the tailors, being fitted for a matrimonial suit. Askara had been fitted the day before, his clothing a little more simple to produce. Lumic’s needed to be ornate. Since he wasn’t showing yet, it was imperative they move fast.
As he stood with an arm lifted, fighting one yawn after another, his omega father crossed one leg over the other and smirked. “Who would have thought you’d have been the first of my young to seek union.”
“Not the first to bring you a grandchild, though.” Lumic gave Pallosar a sneer that his father sighed and rolled his eyes at.
“No, but they are somewhat cute. I do well by them, despite what tradition would have.” Pallosar gritted his teethand sighed. “But they’ll be leaving with Stamel when we find someone to make an arrangement with him.”
Lumic frowned. “Will Kimbel not be my page?”
Pallosar shook his head. “No. Since Kimbel and Tyran were surrendered to the crown, they go with their father. Maybe he’ll be more involved in their upbringing now.”
“Do tell Kimbel to at least say goodbye to me before he leaves.” Lumic frowned.
“There’ll be a whole party to celebrate their new journey. I’ll see to it.” Pallosar waved a hand dismissively before clearing his throat and waving down the tailor. “Take the hem up and dart that gusset, please. I don’t like how it lays over his seat.”
“My tunic will cover it, Father.”
“And your tunic will be coming off for your mate to witness later—trust me. And I assume the goddesses would like you looking your best.”
The tailor, Hingen, hesitated, eyes averted. Usually, he paid their conversations no mind. He was compensated well for what he did and did his job in silence.
“So, it is true. The goddesses have lifted the curses?” The beta’s dry voice cracked as he met Lumic’s gaze with watery blue eyes.
“As they’ve promised, but it will be seen this fall come harvest. It was due to be a plague year for the crops.” Pallosar offered Lumic a half smile, but Lumic couldn’t stomach the doubt. In his heart of hearts, heknew.
“Askara is their favored child and have given him to me with full blessing. All they have asked we have done. All is coming to fruition, I trust.” Lumic offered Hingen a kind smile that he reciprocated with a beatific grin unbefitting the somber tone he usually bore.
“You do well to keep us from starving. I am honored to be a citizen of Croatens, but the thought of never having togo a winter eating dried meat and powdered eggs would be a blessing. We can trade again, bring food to other nations, and my family’s farm may have a chance yet to thrive.”
It was such a simple thing, a farm not struggling for a year. The crops had a regular failure rate, but the horrid thing was, on every fourth year that the crops would fail, some would survive, and if they planted nothing…the plague would hit the next year instead. The goddesses would not allow their curse to be skirted.
“I’m sorry that the kingdom’s curse has burdened you for so long,” Lumic said, wincing as a stray pin pricked him.
“Pay it no mind. Not in my lifetime or many before has this been the fault of the crown. You are far from luxurious people, and I’ve seen how some crowns roll in opulence as their people starve.” Hingen gave a gesture with his fist to his chest in solidarity to them.
Lumic opened his mouth to reply, but a sharp knock interrupted his train of thought. His father’s page, a wiry middle-aged omega with dark eyes and a shrewd gaze stood in the door. “Your majesties.”
Pallosar turned his head and gestured the male in. “What is it, Sisel?”
“A royal entourage has arrived,” the page, Sisel, said near breathlessly. “Drashili and Liaberian.”
Pallosar tensed and rose to his feet, but Lumic raised a hand. “It is not as if we weren’t expecting it. Please, welcome them and I’ll have Hingen find a stopping point.”
Hingen, for his part, glanced Lumic up and down, marking a few places with chalk. “I’ll have you in your best in minutes, my prince.”
Lumic nodded and Pallosar rose, following Sisel as they went to greet the royal retinue.
When Lumic managed to get into his former clothing and out of his dressing room, the tailor went his own way, running down the hall so that he might finish Lumic’s clothes in his shop across the city.
None of his clothes felt right, all of the fabric itchy and uncomfortable, fitting fine as ever but unpleasant to wear.
