From the bed he heard a muffled grunt, then a more articulated "unngh" as somebody stirred inside.
Alaire stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, wondering if he would even be visible, wearing his black outfit. Then it occurred to him that Kai might not be alone. After a moment, though, he dismissed the idea, remembering the unconscious condition he'd left Kai in.
There was a table against the wall, with something on it that might be a lantern. When Alaire felt his way over there, he discovered that it was a lantern, with the shutters pulled; one that was still burning dimly.
He turned it up. It didn't help much, but now he could see something more than mere outlines.
The bed-curtains quivered slightly as someone pushed them aside a crack, revealing half a face and a bleary, bloodshot eye.
"Unnnngh. Alaire. What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"
Alaire turned with the lantern in his hand Kai winced away from the light. "This ungodly hour hap- pens to be noon," he pointed out. "Do you plan on sleeping the day away?"
The curtains shut, but Kai kept moving around, from the sounds within. "That's precisely what I had in mind."
Alaire ignored him, and began searching the area around the windows for a means to open them.
The curtains opened again. Kai had thrown on a pair of breeches, from a pile of clothing strewn over the bed. No one else seemed to be with him. Barefoot, shirtless, Kai dangled his legs over the side of the high bed. He muttered something inarticulate, rubbing his forehead.
"Might I suggest having breakfast with me today?"
Alaire offered. His own stomach was rolling over with hunger. He guessed, from the boy's wan appearance, that Kai's stomach was rolling over for completely dif- ferent reasons.
"Oh, gods, no," Kai replied fervently, sticking his tongue out. "What's breakfast anyway? I don't eat breakfast."
"Then maybe I could light another lantern, or a candle. Or open a window."
"Leave the windows shut please," Kai said firmly.
"If you must have light, you could blow some life into that stove and light a candle. A single candle."
The tiled stove was much like the one in Alaire's room, except it had a bellows built into one side. It was a little chilly here, but not as much as his own room had been when he awakened. He suspected servants came into Kai's rooms periodically to keep the fire going. Certainly Kai would never have no Soon Alaire had a roaring fire going again, and stoked it with wood from a log-holder tiled to match the stove.
By the time he had carefully lit a candle, Kai was up, rummaging through the room. The place was a shambles. Discarded clothing covered the floor, except for a pie-shaped area where the door opened.
Kai was poking through the debris as if salvaging usable items from a burned house.
"What are you looking for?" Alaire asked.
"What do you think?" Kai said irritably. "Got to get the day going somehow."
The reply left Alaire completely baffled until Kai extracted a wine flask from a heap of clothing.
Oh no, not again, Alaire thought. That's the last thing he needs.
But fortunately, the flask was the one Kai had car- ried with him the night before, and was quite empty.
Embarrassed, Alaire watched as the boy shook the flask out, as if he were perishing of thirst. Despite his best efforts, not so much as a drop trickle Despondent, Kai dropped the flask to the floor and stood there, staring at nothing. He looked ready to cry.
Alaire tried to rally him. "Looks like it's empty," he said cheerfully. "Come on, Kai, do you really need a drink this early?"
Kai ignored him, and began to search frantically through the mess. "Damned servants. Paavo tells them to take my private stock whenever I come in late." His face lit up. "But I have a contingency supply!
That is, unless those twice-damned servants found it!"
He opened a wardrobe next to the bed, and ran his hand up and over, along the inside. "Ah! There it is!"
Kai turned around, holding a wineskin larger than the flask he had carried the previous night. The leather pouch quivered with fullness. Alaire looked away.
"You don't approve, do you?" Kai said. Alaire thought he heard genuine concern in the boys voice, but when he turned back, Kai was drinking deeply from the skin.
Well, why not? Maybe it'll have an effect. "In a way, yes. Do you ever stop drinking?"
"Only when I run out," Kai said, a note of defiance in his voice. "Why shouldn't I?"
Alaire considered this. How to reason with a drunk? He'd never done so successfully. If I don't try...
He remembered Kai mentioning that Sir Jehan gave him his first drink, and that the man had encour- aged his consumption the evening before. Bu Jehan was in no way responsible for Kai's overall con- dition; that was Kai's doing, and no one else's.
Why do some people drink more than others? How can one person have one drink and put it down, while the man next to him orders another, and again another? He never had really thought about it.
Try the obvious. "Well, for one thing, it will destroy your body, and your mind. Not necessarily in that order."
Kai offered a feeble shrug. "Does that really mat- ter? I'm a drunk. Everybody says so. Nothing I can do about that." He glared at Alaire, again with that hint of defiance. "I could stop whenever I wanted to. But I just don't want to, is all!" He paused to take another swig. "And it doesn't matter if I'm a falling down drunk. My father hates me and would rather see me dead than on the throne!"
Ah. Here we go. The opening I was looking for.
He cleared his throat delicately. "Have you ever really wondered why I'm here, and how I was able to meet you, the Crown Prince, so many years ago?
Granted, it was a 'peasant's holiday,' but you know, not just anyone could get close to the King's son."
Kai was looking at him strangely, and sat down cross-legged, in a sort of nest of clothing on the floor.
"You know, you're right. You couldn't have got that close to us, unless there was another reason behind that so-called 'holiday.' Huh. You're here now on some sort of diplomatic mission from Althea, right?"
Alaire nodded. "Exactly. The Dark Elf i Ambassador sent by King Reynard"
Kai seemed to find this amusing. "Right, the elf.
Caused quite a stir, in our little court. Heard a little bit about it before supper began last night. Is your father a diplomat, perhaps?"
Alaire took a deep breath, and told the truth. "I am the son of King Reynard, ruler of Althea."
Prince Kainemonen sucked in his breath suddenly, a short exclamation that conveyed the proper surprise.
"Good gods, are you the Prince?"
That got his attention. But now that I have his ear.. .
He grinned, shyly. "A prince, actually. One of a horde. Father sent me here to have a look at diplo- macy firsthand. How do you really know what your father is thinking? I doubt he really hates you at all. I used to think the same thing about my father. I was so far down the line of succession, I didn't think I was really worth much to him. But I found out differently, a while back."