“I want you to think very carefully before you open your mouth. Let those reckless words circling your mind take form, and you’ll find the consequences far sharper than a morning hangover. You are on thin ice, dear brother.”
The demigod bowed his head in embarrassment. “Have you been sitting there all night, Verin?”
“Not all night, no.” The younger man began to smile in relief before his brother continued, whereupon the smile disappeared. “The part of the night that I spent away from this seat was spent chasing you into the harbour taverns and bringing you home. You’re lucky I found you at all, passed out on a bench outside the White Fox, ready to be debauched and defiled by any passersby who saw you for an easy target.”
The demigod grimaced, working his addled brain hard to piece together the hazy events of the previous night.
Trying and failing. Miserably.
“Whilst I applaud your efforts to never half-arse what you put your mind to, I seriously and genuinely have to question the integrity of your cognition, that you think that such a course of action was in any way acceptable.”
Leander ducked his head.
“Look at me, Leander. I have no interest in talking to the top of your head.”
He did not immediately react.
“Leander.” Verin said in warning, sitting up straighter in his chair. Leander could tell that his brother was getting tired of his insubordination and was rapidly losing patience with him. It amazed Leander how Verin had the penchant to persistently believe the best in all, including him, despite proving time and time again just how futile such a belief was.
But Flavian had explicitly made Leander Verin’s problem, and the scion took his duty to care over his family very seriously, regardless of how many times they fucked up.
He finally looked up.
“What, by the Nine, were you thinking when you wound your way through the streets to some godsforsaken whorehouse in the harbour, there to consume the gods only know what?” Verin asked again, and Leander knew he was swiftly running out of explanations that would appease his brother.
“I’m sorry, Verin,” he breathed out, much safer than trying to come up with a well-reasoned argument… because he knew there was no such argument to be found.
“Sure.” Verin was quite clearly losing his patience with the vague and meaningless responses Leander was providing. “I am beginning to doubt whether you actually know the meaning of the word.”
“Yes, I do.” He muttered sullenly as he stared at a fixed point, where the edges of the blanket were beginning to fray. Curious, really, that the Talius residence would have something not-perfect, something damaged, remaining unchecked within it. “You’re right, of course. It was foolish of me.”
“The understatement of the millennium I think,” Verin said dryly.
Leander looked down at his hands and bit back a retort, but he knew Verin saw it swimming at the edge of his mind.
“You’re lucky it was me, and not father, who noticed you were gone.”
Leander stared blankly around, deciding against further questioning about how Verin went about returning him home. He knew Verin was in a mood and Leander was feeling fragile enough not to want to test that mood further.
Verin pressed on. “Why did you do it?” He finally asked, repeating his earlier question one final time.
“I don’t know,” Leander whispered, not voicing the thoughts in his mind, which Verin was fully privy to. Truthfully, he had had no reason good enough, other than wanting to experience the same things every other lost and lonely individual wanted to experience.
“I am beginning to get the impression you are utterly disinterested in doing anything that doesn’t have a direct positive impact on your own life. You were dangerously close to irreparably damaging yourself last night, Leander, if not actually ending your pathetic existence. An accident? Or a deliberate attempt on your life?”
Leander winced, unable to answer that question honestly for himself.
“Because, believe it or not, you are not the centre of my universe. And if this is going to become a regular occurrence, then an ungrateful little degenerate like you does not deserve my scarce time and limited patience. Not whenI have three children to raise and a kingdom to help run. I simply do not have the energy to supply you with what you think you are entitled to, especially in the intensity you are demonstrating you need.” Verin leaned back in his chair.
Verin had never been one to hold back on the barbs for other people, but his diatribe had never been directed at Leander and brought his threats to an all-new level. He couldn’t help but find it a bit impressive, if not a little disconcerting as well.
“Sorry,” Leander murmured, again.
Verin did not immediately reply, so Leander accepted a moment of reprieve. Leander’s head was spinning something wicked, and he groaned again, closing his eyes. His brain sounded like it was the spoked wheels of a cart.
“Papa!” Everly, Verin’s youngest, barged through the half-closed door to Leander’s room, announcing her presence with a whirlwind of noise and emotion that caused Leander to clutch his head in pain.
“What’s wrong with Uncle Leo?” the girl asked loudly. “Is he sick?”
