Lyraeus of House Valerius. My full name, though in the gilded halls of the Imperial Palace, many simply refer to me as ‘Valerius.’ It possesses a certain weight, a legacy of ancient power, that ‘Lyraeus’ alone cannot command. The first to shorten it to such a dignified, yet impersonal, address was Lord Kaelan of House Thorne, when our families first introduced us as potential companions for the upcoming Imperial Cohort. Since then, I have been ‘Valerius’ to nearly all, save for a select few whose stories I keep hidden, like arcane maps. Yet, Kaelan, in his peculiar way, often uses my full given name, a casual intimacy that always sends a strange tremor through me.
Lord Kaelan, introduced to me in that initial cohort gathering, was strikingly dissimilar. From the breadth of his shoulders to the sun-kissed tone of his skin, his very presence contrasted my own paler, more slender frame. Even our aptitudes diverged; I immersed myself in the meticulous studies of cartography and imperial history, while he, with effortless grace, commanded the attention of every room, comfortable at the periphery of scholarly pursuits.
Did I instinctively dismiss him? Normally, I consider social strata with the precision of a master cartographer, placing each individual in their rightful, fixed position. And yes, my internal compass would typically have steered me clear of such an overtly unacademic peer. But Kaelan defied my usual calculations. When first we met, his eyes, the color of warm amber, fixed upon me with a potent, unyielding force that could not be ignored.
Kaelan carried a unique aroma. Not the heavy, cloying perfumes favored by court dandies, nor the sharp scent of polished leather common among the guardsmen. It was a subtle, almost indescribable fragrance, like ozone after a summer storm, clean yet raw. Hooked, like a rare specimen drawn by an unseen current, I found myself initiating conversation, a deviation from my usual reserved demeanor.
I often sought common ground between us. Our shared lineage from ancient, powerful houses, our comfortable positions within the higher echelons of the Imperial court – these were superficial commonalities, yet I clung to them. The Empire, a sprawling mosaic of wealth and want, often forced together disparate elements. Our prestigious academy, for instance, drew from both the lavish central districts of the Imperial City and the less opulent, though still well-to-do, outer boroughs.
My House, Valerius, presided over one of the most venerable and affluent estates within the Imperial City proper. Born the sole heir, I inherited every privilege, my parents’ immense social and political influence a jewel bestowed upon my cradle. Such an upbringing naturally cultivated a keen, if somewhat cynical, intellect.
Fortunately, Kaelan also hailed from the wealthier strata, his House Thorne claiming dominion over vast agricultural holdings. Learning this, a spark of almost childish glee ignited within me. With this singular, convenient justification, I approached him without hesitation, and our companionship naturally blossomed.
Just as I excelled in the intricate art of imperial mapping, Kaelan mastered the art of social navigation and, rumour had it, physical contests. He quickly drew the most formidable young nobles into his orbit. Within the span of a single imperial season, he stood at the apex of the younger court’s unofficial hierarchy. Kaelan became the undisputed central figure of the Imperial Cohort.
---
Lord Kaelan’s private chambers, a haven of forbidden indulgence within the sprawling Thorne Estate, remained shut. My hand hovered over my aching stomach, a knot of raw nerves tightening within me. Then, the heavy oak door finally yielded. Through the narrow gap, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Kaelan’s flushed skin, before his reddened hand released the latch, and the door swung shut once more, obscuring him. I slipped inside with a desperate, uncharacteristic swiftness, before the barrier could fully close.
Inside, Kaelan already reclined upon a lavish divan. He wore only a silk dressing gown, loosely tied, a rolled leaf of a potent, fragrant herb clenched idly between his teeth. He fidgeted with a small flint and steel, clicking it open and shut, its sharp metallic sound punctuating the thick air.
“Damnation. My father stalks my every move again. Should his Imperial Lordship call, answer it. Inform him we were engaged in scholarly pursuits together.”
He didn’t light the leaf, yet his face held the languid, sated expression of one who had just concluded a particularly vigorous tryst. My stomach felt raw, tight, and I pressed my palm against it. Snatching the half-chewed leaf from his mouth, I snapped, my tone sharper than intended.
“And why should I perform this deception for you?”
“Because we are companions, Lyraeus.”
Ah, yes. Companions. The way he drew out the word, almost a caress, always struck me as profoundly melancholic. It felt as though a blade tore through my chest, yet I maintained an expression of polished calm.
“Understand this: I shall exact recompense for my services, one way or another.”
“Consider it noted.” A faint smile played on his lips.
The room reeked of exotic night-blooming orchids and the delicate, clean aroma unique to women. Truthfully, the only reason I had learned to identify such scents with any precision was due to Kaelan’s various dalliances. Whispers from his earlier years suggested he had engaged in such liaisons since the tender age of fourteen, his first conquest reputedly taking place within a secluded alcove of the Imperial Library. Such rumours spoke volumes.
Even then, they said he presented the bearing of a man in his mid-twenties. Kaelan’s mature presence was utterly atypical for a youth of his age. Most who encountered him for the first time mistook him for a seasoned adult. His bold, finely sculpted features lent him a brooding, almost sophisticated aura.
Once he entered the Imperial Cohort, he openly frequented the illicit pleasure dens and gambling houses whenever boredom struck. With an abundance of family gold and, somehow, access to falsified identification scrolls, he confidently presented himself as an adult. He pursued attractive women, transforming fleeting encounters into a regular pastime. His striking good looks played a significant role in veiling his hedonistic lifestyle.
Considered individually, his eyes, nose, and mouth were not extraordinary. Yet, when combined, they formed an inexplicably captivating visage. His noble aura was so refined that none could believe he was merely a youth; most assumed him to be at least twenty-five Imperial years of age.
My gaze drifted about the chamber, as if seeking something concrete amidst the lingering atmosphere. The heavy, sweet aftermath of his escapade made my gorge rise.
“Where is Seraphon?”
“He departed earlier.”
“...”
“That rogue is utterly mad, no matter how I scrutinize him. What a spectacle he makes.”
Kaelan propped his chin upon his hand, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. I merely frowned, the gesture a silent measure of my disdain.
Seraphon of House Vespera. The second person who grated upon my nerves with the most profound intensity.
He had only grown close to Kaelan during our second year in the Imperial Cohort. As much as I loathed to concede it, their constant proximity made their designation as ‘companions’ undeniably apt. While Kaelan was the central sun of the Imperial Cohort, Seraphon held his own formidable reputation among the military-minded cadets in the Northern barracks.
Still, our paths rarely intersected. The only times I encountered him were within the Grand Conclave Hall, a vast chamber shared by all students of the Imperial Academy.
Once, while crossing the marbled floor of the Hall, someone nudged my shoulder, whispering, “There, that’s Seraphon.”
Intrigued, I rose slightly on the balls of my feet to peer over the milling crowd. Among the sea of black-haired youths, a tall, sharp-featured young man stood out. I knew immediately it was he.
“He possesses a rather unpleasant aspect,” I murmured.
A lesser noble, one of Kaelan’s constant satellites, replied, “Indeed, somewhat. They say he’s remarkably self-absorbed.”
I allowed a faint smirk to touch my lips, but only offered a noncommittal nod in response.
As much as I resented the admission, I understood why he posed a subtle challenge to Kaelan. This only intensified my aversion, yet for some inexplicable reason, I found myself unable to avert my gaze.
A radiant gloom – that was my first impression of Seraphon.
By chance, our eyes met. It was peculiar that he noticed my scrutiny, considering the multitude of gazes undoubtedly fixed upon him in the crowded Conclave Hall. His long, narrow eyes and thin pupils made a striking impression. Reflexively, I flinched, as if struck by a sudden gust of wind.
‘What are you staring at?’
He must have read my lips, for he narrowed one eye at me in response. Honestly, I felt a tremor of intimidation, so I pretended indifference and turned my head. Then, loud enough for the youth beside me to hear, I pronounced:
“He resembles a viper.”
After that, Seraphon and I often exchanged glances, yet always ignored the other. Whenever our gazes crossed, he would typically lower his head first, then look up again to meet my eyes. Nine times out of ten, he was the one to break contact, though occasionally, I found myself following his lead. I ceased counting after the eighteenth such encounter.
---
As if by some strange twist of fate, Kaelan and I found ourselves assigned to the same Imperial Cohort again for our second year. While a secret thrill stirred within me at this continued connection, I then encountered another familiar face. It was truly astonishing – and utterly infuriating. For the first time, I gained a proper, sustained view of the infamous Seraphon of House Vespera.
It was Seraphon who initiated the exchange, his voice cutting through the bustling classroom.
“Valerius. Would you care to join us for the midday meal?”
Damn him.
And precisely as everyone had anticipated, the two of them became inseparable companions. Kaelan was a man who reveled in his own formidable presence, and Seraphon, subtly regarded as his equal, met Kaelan’s exacting standards. He was masculine, highly regarded among his peers, and possessed a certain undeniable influence. Their friendship, in retrospect, was inevitable.
In our studies, the topic often arose: if Kaelan and Seraphon were to clash, who would emerge victorious? From my perspective, they would never truly come to blows. While Kaelan and I were, on the surface, polar opposites, Kaelan and Seraphon shared a remarkable depth of similarities.
Yet, there existed one profound difference between them.
Seraphon possessed a strange, almost rigid adherence to decorum. Despite his appearance, often favoring austere, unadorned tunics in a court obsessed with silks and jewels, he sometimes acted with an almost puritanical streak.
For example, when Kaelan felt the stirrings of carnal desire, he would simply select a woman who caught his eye and spend the night with her. When asked about his nocturnal adventures, he would proudly recount his early morning escapades with a mischievous grin. In stark contrast, Seraphon would dismiss the typical lewd remarks from their companions about desiring a courtesan’s touch with a mocking laugh. Sometimes, he would even mock them outright, grabbing the shoulder of a robust companion, squeezing hard enough to elicit a yelp.
“This oaf possesses more flesh than most women in the Pleasure District. Simply solicit *him* instead. And truly, you appear deplorable. Don a proper tunic, would you? Cease parading that flabby form – it is quite offensive to the eye.”
Even his crude remarks were laced with an acerbic sarcasm, a dry wit that only Kaelan seemed to truly appreciate.
Yet, when the opportunity arose, Seraphon would occasionally utter something baffling, such as, “My devotion is reserved for the Imperial Throne, and my legacy for the Empire.” That was the undeniable difference. Kaelan once offered to procure him a falsified identification scroll – a favor he had never extended to me – but Seraphon dismissed it as a useless trifle and refused.
Kaelan’s other companions found Seraphon’s eccentricities entertaining, but I did not. The reason was starkly simple: he was close to Kaelan. And they roamed the palace halls like inseparable allies. That alone was sufficient for my simmering resentment to fester. It was an insidious, quiet jealousy.
Still, I managed to maintain a civil, even outwardly amiable, relationship with Seraphon. One of my ingrained strengths lay in concealing my true sentiments, regardless of the circumstance. Besides, his proximity to Kaelan was undeniable. Yes, every facet of my social existence seemed to revolve around Lord Kaelan.
To be entirely honest, there were more days when self-reproach gnawed at me for this very dependency than there were days I actively contemplated Kaelan. I often felt like an utter fool, a puppet in a courtly play. But despite this bitter self-awareness, I remained unchanged.
While Kaelan tossed a few casual words my way before retreating into the bathing chamber, I sat lost in thought. A few minutes later, the chime of his personal imperial communicator sounded. Fresh from his bath, Kaelan retrieved it from the divan and tossed it to me. I caught it deftly, and on the other end, I recognized the booming voice of Lord Thorne, his father.
Clearing my throat, I answered, wondering why I bothered to sound so composed.
“Yes, this is Lyraeus speaking.”
“Lyraeus? Are you with Kaelan at this moment?”
“Indeed, Imperial Lord. I am.”
“Ah, I see. My worries were unfounded. I feared Kaelan might be indulging in some illicit diversion again. You possess such a pleasant voice, Lyraeus.”
“Thank you, Imperial Lord.”
“No, truly. How fares your esteemed self?”
“I fare well, thank you, Imperial Lord. And you?”
“The same. You speak with such elegance. If only Kaelan possessed your manners. That boy is devoid of proper decorum. So, you were engaged in studies together?”
“Yes. Kaelan must have neglected to inform you. He has been quite consumed with preparations for the upcoming Imperial examinations.”
“So, you have been studying together this entire time?”
“Yes, Imperial Lord. He has been in my presence for the duration.”
“Well, that is a relief. If he is with you, I can rest easy.”
“It is nothing, truly.”
“No, it is something. If he is with you, he cannot embroil himself in mischief.”
“Truly, Imperial Lord, it is nothing. I shall ensure he reaches the Academy safely in the morning.”
“Good. See to him. Remain companions and avoid discord.”
“Yes, of course, Imperial Lord. Farewell.”
Lies flowed from my tongue with an effortless, practiced grace.
After ending the call, I tossed the communicator back to Kaelan, who muttered a terse “My thanks,” while fastening the intricate clasps of his formal tunic. Without another word, I turned to depart. Kaelan offered no attempt to detain me.
“Until later, Valerius.” That was the extent of his farewell.
It was precisely as I expected. This was the measure of our relationship. The vast, unbridgeable chasm between us was agonizingly clear. Perhaps that is why I quickened my pace, a sudden ache tightening in my throat.