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Indol reclines on the sands, his posture casual. But the sharpness in his gaze, the accusations he’d spoken – they make my heart pound. Indol is the smartest student in Three. He simply doesn’t flaunt it in the same way Belli does. And he’s so genial , handsome and athletic and easygoing. So naturally popular that no one seems to want to think of him as brilliant, too.
“Tell me that I’m wrong,” he says.
“You’re wrong.”
Indol cranes his neck, checking that the two girls haven’t come any closer. They’re talking, not paying us any attention. “Look, I don’t know what you were. Friend of the royal family, maybe? The son of one of their advisors? But it’s clear to anyone with a brain that you’ve had training. No orphan makes it this far.” He shakes his head, then looks at me again. Gaze intense. “I don’t care, exactly. What I want to know is, why lie about it?”
My mind races. He’s too sure of himself. If I deny it, I’ll only make things worse. So I cut my losses.
“Do you think it would help me?” I hiss, “Everyone knowing I had ties to the deposed royal family of this backwater country?”
He smiles, clearly pleased to be proven correct. Yet not satisfied enough to cease his questioning. “Your orphan sob story certainly garners sympathy from the masses, but having been close to royalty – even dead ones – seems a credit rather than a liability.”
“Not close in the way I was.” The words leave my mouth in a desperate bid to throw Indol off the scent. “You know same sex relationships are prohibited under Birthright.”
His eyes widen, and it seems those words manage to shut him up. For some reason, his gaze flicks over to Emissa, before staring back at me. I can’t read the look on his face, but I don’t break eye contact.
“I wouldn’t worry, Vis,” he says eventually, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“As am I,” I say meaningfully.
He flinches and looks away. We sit in silence until the others join us.
I walk back to my room one afternoon, my mind full of my recent study session with Emissa. I've been spending more and more time with her lately. Sometimes she helps me catch up with what they’ve been learning in Class Three, other times we just enjoy each other’s company. Indol on the other hand is someone I haven’t been alone with since our conversation on the beach. We’d make small talk when together with the rest of the Thirds, but there’s an odd air between us I can’t fully understand. I didn’t question it at first, but it’s starting to grow noticeable. Was he perhaps such a stickler to religion that my confession made him dislike me? No, that didn’t seem like him. Or more dangerously, he could have seen through my deception. I mull it over as I walk.
And then I hear my name. Not Vis , but the name I had buried, the name no one should’ve spoken.
“Diago.”
I whirl around and come face to face with Indol . My pulse races. How could he have found out? And if he knew, why was he here instead of telling his father so I could be arrested and executed? But then I hear his next words.
“That was his name, wasn’t it?” Indol says, “I did my research. The royal family of Suus had two princesses, but only one prince. Diago, who happened to have been our age. He was the one you were close to, was he not?”
My lie on the beach. Indol had bought it, wholeheartedly it seems.
“I think that’s a topic we both agree is best kept quiet.” I keep my voice even. “Neither of us wish for any secrets to come to light.”
He seems frustrated. “Vis. You should know that I of all people won’t judge you for this.”
What was that supposed to mean? But regardless, I was certain nothing good could come from Indol poking around my past. I turn and start to walk away. “It doesn't matter anymore.”
He grabs my arm, pulling me back. “Maybe it doesn't. But I want to know.”
I look back. Scrutinise his expression. This isn't like him. If he's digging for blackmail, it's far too blunt compared to the finesse I know he is capable of. Besides, my confession of my supposed relationship with another man is more than enough to hold over me, and to ensure I keep his secret in turn. Details are unnecessary. So why was he bothering with this?
He speaks again. “I want to understand, Vis.”
“Understand what?”
He finally seems aware that we’ve been having this conversation in a public hallway. He drags me to the nearest door, a thankfully empty sitting room. I let him lead me along more out of confusion than anything. Indol shuts the door behind us and locks it before facing me again, his hands awkwardly clasped together.
“From what I’ve read, Suus was more accepting of same sex relationships. So I feel your experience was probably… far different than mine. But…”
Dots finally connect in my mind.
“You’re… also …” I trail off, but it’s easy to guess the rest of the sentence. It’s his turn to be confused, then.
“I thought… I thought you knew. That Emissa told you. You implied as much on the beach.”
“She told me you were planning to defect to religion.”
He blanches. “How did she know that?”
“She said you told her .”
“Well, she lied.” He starts pacing the room. “I confessed to her about my… inclinations , but she shouldn’t have known that . Rotting gods.”
I stand awkwardly for several moments, until Indol lets out a long sigh and collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands. Against my better judgement, I walk over and place a hand on his shoulder. I should hate him. Behind the good looks and charm is someone whose family turned my ancestral home into their damn vacation house. But Fadrique’s words echo in my head.
“If they are all our enemies, we will never be happy.”
In this moment, I do not wish for Indol to be my enemy.
He looks up at me. “I suppose it changes nothing. What’s one more secret out? Even if it seems mine are spreading like wildfire. Maybe I’ll discover next that Belli has known the whole time and that’s why she gave up on flirting with me.”
“Maybe.” I perch on the table so I’m seated facing him. “But at the very least we’ve cleared the air between the two of us.”
He gives a humourless chuckle, but then softens into a true smile. “You’re right. And now you and I are no longer alone.”
It seems wrong to mislead him in this way. I’m confident I experience no attraction to men, yet I have him confiding in me because of it. The usual mask he wears has slipped away, and I can see the emotions his orientation has birthed in him. Isolation. Self-hatred. And he looks to me with an unveiled desire for someone like him, someone who understands.
It’s a lie. But with all the lies I’ve told to get where I am, what’s one more?
“So… you wanted to know about Diago?” I say, tentatively.
“I’ve never… I would never dare risk an actual relationship with someone. I’d like to know. What was it like?”
And so I lie. I spin a lovely picture of Prince Diago of Suus, a portrait of a person whose personality notably has little in common with that of Vis Telimus. But I include enough details, precious kernels of truth about my own past, to convince Indol. I’d climbed the cliffs, splashed in the waters. I simply add a fictional lover to the memories I share with him. Indol talks about his own experiences as well. How he’d first realised that girls never interested him, yet men did. The shame he’d carried, his strained relationship with his father.
So,ehow, our conversation lasts until we finally look out the windows and realise the sun has long set. Indol walks me back to my room, and as I go to shut the door he says, “Vis, I… Thank you.”
“It was nothing. Good night, Indol.”
After that, myself and Indol found ourselves starting to growing closer. Throughout the rest of our stay at Suus, I spent nearly as much time with him as I did Emissa.
“When did you and him get so friendly?” Emissa asked one day. The two of us had been lounging on the sands, and I’d waved at Indol who was down in the water.
I shrugged. “He's nice, I suppose.”
She squinted at me, obviously not accepting that explanation. But she didn't press.
We returned to the Academy, and the change between Indol and I remained. When I wasn't working with Callidus and Eidhin, I ended up with him. Despite the inherent competitiveness that existed within Class Three, he’d often help me, his natural brilliance making it easy for him to teach me some of the tougher concepts they’d been studying. Other times we’d run the Labyrinth together, or just sit around and talk.
Occasionally, the conversation would turn to Diago.
“Are you angry?” Indol asks.
“About what?”
“Suus. Diago’s death.”
I avoid Indol’s gaze. That is a dangerous question. It could be bait, something to trick me into speaking out against the Hierarchy, words he could use against me. So I speak carefully.
“I was, at first. The night Caten’s forces came, it was terrifying. I… wasn't in the palace at the time.” My fists clench. “But I heard. He died. The rest of the royal family too. I… understand why they had to do it, but when you know someone personally – especially the way I knew Diago – their death is harder to justify.”
I look away. “But it's all in the past now. It doesn't matter anymore. And if none of it had happened, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”
“For what it's worth, I’m sorry,” Indol tells me, “From what you’ve said about him, he seems incredible. I wish I could have met him.”
“He would've liked you,” I say, “If things were different.”
It was the truth. I’ve grown to crave his company, this blossoming friendship we have. But I cannot ignore the blade dangling over our heads – he’s he son of a Dimidius, and I’m someone the Hierarchy has long wanted dead. I can't stop myself from thinking, however. In another life, if the Hierarchy wasn't what it was and I’d met Indol – not as Vis Telimus but as myself – I would have liked to be his friend. A true and genuine relationship, not built on all my lies and half-truths.
He lets out a soft sigh, and leans his head on my shoulder. “How wonderful it would be to love a man like that.”
I don't reply. I’ve started feeling guilty again about the lie that started this friendship. He's grown to trust me because we supposedly share this secret, this attraction to men. I worry about what he would think if he ever discovered I was lying.
I glance once more at the handsome young man next to me, something stirring deep within. The sunlight catches his features in just the right way, highlighting his perfect jawline, painting his black hair a brown shade.
And I worry that maybe it's not a lie at all.