Page 27 of The Amber Sunburst

“My mother has been gone a long time. And I think my brother was happy to see the back of me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You don’t have all that crazy family stuff at the Academy, I guess. Not sure if that’s better or worse.”

Zeno sighs. “Me neither.”

Then Alexander plasters his charismatic smile back on with visible effort. “Well, what a fun turn this conversation took,” he says. It’s clear he wants to return to their banter rather than his memories, and Zeno lets him.

“Best time I’ve had in ages, Alex.”

Alexander groans. “Please, don’t call me Alex,” he begs. “I hate Alexes.”

“No, Alex, I love nicknames. Everyone I know has a nickname. You can’t take that away from me.”

Alexander gags, and Zeno responds, “Would you rather Xander?”

Alexander’s gags turn into convulsions, and Zeno cackles until Alexander falls apart too.

“Okay, Alex⁠—”

“Aaaaaah.”

“Aleeeeeeex.”

“Agh, fine! But I’m calling you Zee then.”

“Wow, that’s horrible.”

“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.”

Their fit of giggles begins anew.

“Goodnight, Zee,” Alexander says.

Zeno smiles in acquiescence and turns off the lights for them with his ring.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

7

ALEXANDER

At some point in the middle of the night, Alexander wakes up to a light scuffling sound outside his door—like someone walking down the hallway. He shrugs it off and rolls over to fall back asleep.

Alexander is a prince. He’s probably said it enough times, but he needs to make that abundantly clear.

He is a prince. And princes don’t wake up before ten unless they’re sneaking out of someone’s bedroom. Princes are awarded infinite respect for simply taking a breath. Princes have very few responsibilities besides sitting around and looking pretty.

So when Zeno picks him up out of bed and drops him to the ground at seven ten, it is an understatement to say he is not pleased.

“What in the ever-loving fu—” he sputters, flailing his limbs around with no direction.

Zeno gets slapped by one of his arms and laughs uncontrollably.

“I told you,” he shouts over Alexander’s continued ranting. “Seven o’clock. And I’ve been trying to get you up for the past ten minutes, but you sleep like a rock. They stop serving breakfast at half past.”

Alexander stops his blubbering when he realizes that, yes, he is truly expected to get up and leave the room within the next twenty minutes.