“Yes. Just visiting,” Trill said blithely. “Seeing the city for the first time. And there are such pretty people here.”
The man smiled again, but it had dimmed, and his eyes were now sad. Impulsively, Trill reached out and touched his arm, pushing a little more energy in him, trying as he too-often did to fix the type of hurt that he couldn’t mend.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
The man blinked, shaking his head a little. “It’s all right. Just memories, you know.”
“I hope you have a good night,” Trill told him earnestly as he stood back up.
“Hey, you don’t—”
But Trill did need to go, because that sadness hummed between them, and Trill hated it. He didn’t like to make people think sad thoughts (or angry thoughts or bitter thoughts or regretful thoughts). He had plenty of experience with that, and he didn’t ever want to be the cause of it for anyone ever again.
He found another pub, found someone young and bright who would take him home, where they could be happy, at least for a little while.
Chapter Three
Cormal
Cormal constantly told himself that if he was patient, everything would get back to normal. He was not, by nature, a patient man, which perhaps explained why this strategy was going so poorly, and why he wanted to lob fireballs so often.
He knew that it seemed like a joke to some people, the hothead who could wield fire. He doubted they realized just howoften hedidn’tlob fireballs. Yes, they occasionally got the better of him, but all it took was a thought. It waseasy, and it therefore took a lot of control tonotdo it.
Brannal had known. Cormal’s father had known. Tramad had been outwardly austere and entirely under control. Cormal had lived with Brannal since he was ten, and he’d come into his own fire only after Brannal had basically mastered his, after Cormal had heard about the accidental fire at the farm and everything that had happened when Brannal had first manifested his ability. Brannal knew exactly what Cormal was talking about. He’d figured out his own method of control, and maybe Cormal would have found a stronger one, would have managed something similar if he’d endured what Brannal had. Who was to say? It wasn’t like they could ever speak about this now. It wasn’t like Cormal would be Summus at all, if Brannal were here.
With no better ideas, he kept repeating his mantra that everything would get easier as time passed.
After all, it wasn’t like they’d asked for Brannal to become Summus. It wasn’t like that hadn’t been one of the hardest transitions ever. So many people haddied.
No one had died here. They’d bound Perian to his estate, trusting that he would behave or that they would have to take action, and Brannal had chosen to go after him. No one had wanted him to do that. (Cormalhadn’t wanted him to do that.) Brannal had chosen to go, and Cormal could only assume that Perian’s influence on the man would grow even stronger every day they were together.
He realized that his hands were clenched again, and he shook them out. He wasn’t thinking about that.
The point was, no one had died (with the exception of a fugitive criminal that Cormal could admit wasn’t a great loss, but he was supposed to beimprisoned), and it took people timeto accept change. They would get used to Cormal, and he would figure out some way to live up to the standards set by his father and by Brannal. The good parts of their legacy, anyway. He wouldfix this.
And then he pushed open the door to his office and was drenched in water.
If the bucket falling and nearly hitting him in the head hadn’t given it away, the giggles would have.
This wasn’t the work of his Secundus or Tertius. Though both were capable of it, they had, thus far, only done so when he had a fireball in his hands.
No, this was a bigger problem.
He dripped all the way to the Queen, who agreed it really had to stop. She called the Princess before her and as had happened every time so far, was met with utter defiance.
“This is not appropriate behavior for a princess,” the Queen told her daughter.
Despite her short stature, Princess Larenia stood tall and proud, tension in every line of her body. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, her hair done up in elaborate braids. Shelookedlike a princess, even though she rarely troubled to act like one.
Bluntly, the Princess said, “Your behavior towards Perian wasn’t appropriate, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped you.”
The Queen’s lips compressed, and her voice was cool and stern. “You will stop this at once, Larenia.”
There was only one person that Cormal knew who would defy her when she sounded like that.
It seemed that Princess Larenia was following in his footsteps.
“Or what?” she demanded contemptuously. “You’ll shut me in my room? I’ve done that for years. You’ll banish me? Please do. Then I can finallyleave.”
