It was moments like this, coming to the end of his high, where Leander lost all wilfulness. This was when he was athis most pliable. Probably the perfect time to be presented to his father, he considered with more self-awareness than should be expected of someone who very recently considered himself capable of wingless flight.
“So, what do we do, Leander?” Verin asked again, not bothering to hide the irritability in his voice.
“Just… I want to go home now.” Leander was tired of this conversation. He was already tired from the meeting with his father which was yet to happen. “Give me some orange juice and I will be fine.”
Verin nodded and his hand steadied Leander as he stood up on still shaking legs. “Come on then.”
Chapter Twelve
Leander had, as promised, sobered up by the time Verin snuck him into the house through the slave’s entrance and ushered him into his bedroom.
“The bath is likely cold by now because you took such a long time to get back here, but I’ve had one made up for you. Who knows, maybe the frigid water will help you.” Verin said, his tone cold and uncaring with regards to his half-brother’s predicament.
Leander merely nodded and began to strip.
“Can you at least wait for me to leave?”
Leander paused and turned bodily to look at the Talius scion. It seemed his body didn’t quite want to react to his brain’s commands as well as he would like, because his movements were lethargic, heavy, uncoordinated. He almost toppled over with the effort.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Father is waiting for you in his study. I suggest you do not take too long and waste his time any further, Leo. He isnot impressed.” Verin made his way to the door and opened it. Pausing on the threshold, he turned his head. “I will not tell him about the state in which I found you. You would do well to avoid letting on just how far from the tree you have tumbled.”
Verin left Leander, who methodically removed the few layers of clothing he had been wearing, casting them into a pile on the floor for one of the household slaves to deal with, and he crossed the room to his bathing chamber where, as promised, the water was lukewarm at best.
But it didn’t matter because, heeding Verin’s words, he was quick to clean off the grime that had settled on him from his misadventures and was dressed in the finest clothes he could find within half an hour. Staring into the mirror, there was nothing he could do about his eyes, which still had pinpricks for pupils. He was currently in a bright room, though, and Flavian was notorious for preferring to work in the dark, so perhaps it would go unnoticed.
Approaching the man’s study, Leander hesitated only briefly before knocking, two knocks: one to get his father’s attention and the other to request entry (any more than that and Flavian would flay him for the irritating disturbance of the house’s peace).
“Enter.”
Leander did so.
The room was, as expected, dark and warm, the source of both light and warmth exuding from the large fireplace, which was ablaze. The fire was quite possibly the only inviting thing about the room, and it crackled, summoning Leander in from the relatively cold corridor beyond.
Sluggishly, Leander made his way into his father’sstudy. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he sought out the man. His gaze, first, landed on someone he did not expect to see.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” he greeted Leía without inflection in his voice.
“Sit.” Flavian, who was the one to speak, had been standing in the corner of the room, shrouded in darkness up until this point. Leo’s gaze sought the source of the man’s voice and he could vaguely make him out through the darkness.
The flickers of light danced across the Talius Lord’s features, creating flashes of shadow that gave off the impression of appearing more brooding than usual.
Leander knew that his father was powerful: he was the very embodiment of authority, privilege and prestige, and the image before him did nothing to dispel that thought from his mind. It set him on edge, knowing that Flavian Talius had absolute control over his sons’ lives, and Leander, despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, was no different.
Approaching the available chair opposite his mother, Leander perched on the edge of it, his own disquiet at the situation growing stronger.
Leía still hadn’t said anything. Instead, amber eyes, illuminated and made more vibrant by the fire, regarded him. There was no coldness to her gaze, Leander was gratified to see. But neither was there any warmth. Leo thought he might have seen the crease of a frown on her forehead—concentration or worry?—but it disappeared before he could discern it properly.
What he did know, however, was that Leía knew whereVerin had picked him up from… as well as the state he had found him in.
Leander’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, staring back at his mother as she examined him in much the same way a jeweller would inspect a flawed diamond: searching for value and imperfections.
“Yesterday in the council chambers…” Flavian began, drawing half of Leander’s attention away from his mother, “was nothing short of a catastrophe.”
Leander thought that was a slight exaggeration, but he didn’t have the balls to say that to his father.
“Not only did you embarrass this family, but you disrespected King Caisa. Not to mention the insult you gave his honoured guest.”
