“If you don’t want to answer, you can drink.”
I wasn’t going to fold that easily. “Actually, I believe it’s because he was so busy in bed after turning me that any invitation to you would have been an afterthought.”
Julian laughed and took a long drink. He didn’t know Raphael had been in bed after ingesting the poison of my blood.
“My turn. Tell me what Raphael was like growing up as a child.”
Raphael arched a brow at me, and I just shrugged. He was so reticent to discuss his past—and besides, I doubted there was anyone else who had known him back then that I’d ever get to ask. If we had to get through this dance tonight, I might as well enjoy myself.
Julian tipped back in his chair. “An excellent question. I suppose one could say he did the best with what he could, being the less handsome brother—”
I snorted. “You two are identical.”
“No, we’re not,” Raphael and Julian said in unison.
“Do you want your question answered or not?” Julian huffed.
I waved him on.
“Thankyou. As I was saying, he did the best he could. You wouldn’t know it now, but this sourpuss used to be a lot of fun. Our neighbor baked the best mayberry pies. But the old crone was stingy. She’d make you beg on your hands and knees for a slice—or make us do chores to earn some. Only at some point, Raphael realized she’d also give a slice as a thank-you if she lost something and you found it—her garden shears, that sort of thing. The natural consequence was that Raphael figured out how to fit through her chimney to swipe something. I’d wait on the roof and pull him back up with a rope. Then, the next day, we’d mysteriouslyfindit and get a slice of that damn pie—I swear, I can taste the tartness of those mayberries even now. Only that ass bulked up quicker than I did, so suddenly I was the one being sent through the chimney with a rope around my waist.”
“Why not sneak in and steal the pies, then?” They were already going through all the trouble to get into her home to begin with.
Julian looked aghast. “Well, that wouldn’t have been sporting. Besides, we weren’t stealing her belongings—just borrowing them.”
I laughed, despite myself, picturing the two of them together. Raphael had once told me, ages ago, he’d wanted to ride dragons as a boy. That he’d been optimistic. I could imagine it, and as much as I was drawn to his ruthless side, I wished I could’ve known him then too. Wish I could show him a version of me that hadn’t been tainted by years in Greymere. But perhaps we were always meant to be the way we were now.
“Foolish, too, maybe.” Julian was on a roll now. “One time, a fox got into our chicken coop, so he made me go with him to the woods, following a trail of feathers, to find the fox that had gotten them. Anyone else would’ve used a bow and arrow, but no, not our Raphael—”
“I recollect it wasyourbow we brought, and the string snapped when I tried it,” Raphael corrected.
Julian rolled his eyes. “Perhaps that recollection has some merit. But rather than turn around when we reached the wretched thing—without a working bow and arrow—Raphael just confronted it. Bare hands and all against all those teeth and claws. By rights, he should’ve lost an eye, or at least gotten some scratches—though that would’ve made it harder to trade places then—but no, the bastard actually wrestled the animal into submission. He turned its pelt into earmuffs.”
“What did you do with them?” I asked Raphael.
“He gave them to—”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Raphael cut in. “I think I should take my turn before my dear brother decides to recount the time I convinced him he had the gift of levitation and needed to test it.”
“Now that you mention it…” Julian arched a brow.
Raphael turned to me.
“You can ask her questions anytime,” Julian complained. “What’s the point in this game if you just ask your fledgling everything?”
“I think your goal was to get drunk,” I remarked.
Julian lifted his glass in salute and took a long swig. Raphael rolled his eyes, but there was a boyish twinkle in them. Despite the fact he’d been at his brother’s throat twice in the past twenty-four hours, he did clearly hold affection for him. I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t told me they were brothers, but perhaps I wasn’t in any place to throw stones.
“Given the choice, would you have used the chimney and then reunited our neighbor with herlostitem to earn a slice of pie? Or would you have just taken the pie while inside?”
“I would’ve just done the blasted chores,” I said primly.
Both of them laughed at that. “Me now,” Julian said, lips curving to a smirk. “Tell me, Samara, which do you prefer—dusty old Damerel, or my fair city here?”
Company notwithstanding, the answer seemed obvious. One city was underground, and I’d been surrounded by enemies, attacked twice, died, and kept in a cell for several weeks. Here, at least I saw the moons each night. I’d gotten to see another side of Raphael, and to taste freedom.
I took a sip from my cup. Sludge was preferable to answering the question.
