The Consort (Tellaran Series) by Ariel MacArran

wore theirs long. Someone had decided to humiliate him further by cutting his hair off.
    The man held the pastries gingerly in his dirty hands, his mouth working then he inclined his head in thanks.
    “Who owns you now?”
    The man shook his head and Alari frowned. He had not even been sold but cast out into the streets to starve? His crime must have been grave indeed for Helia to do so.
    “Do you know where the Az’anti clanhouse is?” Kyndan asked.
    The man’s brow furrowed but he gave a spare nod.
    “I want you to go there now,” Kyndan said. “Tell the guards that the clan leader’s brother, Kyndan Maere, sent you to her. Tell Kinara—that’s her name—that I said to take you in.” He put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I promise you’ll be treated well at the Az’anti clanhouse, Utar.”
    The former warrior sent Kyndan a quick glance, his brow knitted. For an instant hesitant hope showed in his eyes and then he bowed again.
    The man wolfed down one of the pastries before he’d gone a half-dozen paces.
    Kyndan watched him go, his face taut.
    “You were very kind to him,” Alari said.
    “I was him,” he said bitterly. “A few months ago it was me walking barefoot with bleeding feet and an empty belly, getting my supper yanked away by Az-kye who thought it was funny. They brought me planetside in a festering cage and I spent the good part of a year confined to the Az’quen clanhouse grounds.” His lip curled. “The Az’quen clan, my owners . I didn’t even speak Az-kye then. Most of the time I didn’t know what the hell they were telling me to do. ’Course I learned the coarse words quick; they’re the ones I’d hear right before the blow landed.”
    His face was clouded with anger and pain. “You don’t know what it’s like. You feel like a bug getting crushed and there’s nothing you can do. You just have to take it because there’s no getting away and fighting makes it worse—”
    Her gaze met his then and Kyndan broke off, his expression stricken.
    “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t—Look, just tell me to shut up when I’m saying something stupid like that.”
    “You have every right to your anger, Kyndan.” She closed her eyes briefly. “To hate those that caused you such suffering.”
    “Did you ever tell anyone, Alari?” he asked quietly. “Tell anyone what he did?”
    Her throat tightened and for a long moment she searched his face, half in shadow, half lit by the lanterns of the festival beyond. 
    “Our courtship had come to the time when we were to be left to ourselves at night,” she began finally, her voice low, reluctant. “The first few times when my attendants withdrew he was respectful, mannerly, gentle, but I did not grow to care for him as a mate should. I sought the advice of High Priestess Celara. I even spoke to one of my mother’s advisors of it. Both strongly counseled me to wait, that my feelings might change. But one morning I followed my heart and told Jazan I did not want to be bound to him, did not wish to be his mate. He was disappointed, yet I thought him agreeable to the break. But that night—he—” Her nails bit into the skin of her palm as she clenched her fist. “I could scarcely believe it had happened! As soon as he—I ran from him and locked myself in the bathing chamber till my maids came the next morning. I went to her Imperial Majesty and knelt before her, begging to be released from the betrothal.” Her lip trembled. “The empress said that as heiress there were things that I must bear. That to rule I must accept I could not have things always as I liked them. She ordered the marriage to go forward.”
    “Gods, Alari.” His face was ragged. “I’m so sorry.”
    “I hated him,” she whispered tightly. “Perhaps the hate is still there but I cannot feel it now. To see him yesterday—I felt such horror at it. And such relief to know him dead.  For the first time, in so very long, I felt safe.” She