Page 67

‘Lukas, is something the matter?’ Tilting his head, Rymedur tried to get a better look at his second-oldest son, who sat a seat away from him. ‘You’ve barely eaten.’

There was a beat of silence as Lukas pushed his food around his plate. His movements were jilted, forced. ‘I’m not hungry,’ Lukas’s voice was small as he huffed a breath of hot air.

‘Why don’t you try the pastry instead?’ Rymedur tried to cajole him. His children may have physically taken after him more than they had Areanel, but Lukas had inherited her fierceness along with her power. One strong emotion, and Lukas could melt the cutlery he used to spear and pick at his food. ‘I was able to import the apricots from Selcirith. Your nokomi sent them. She knows how they’re your favourite. The kitchen staff even taste-tested them for me and ensured the pastries turned out better this time because they are sweeter. You know Selcirith is well known for their apricots—’

‘I don’t give a shit about the damn apricots, da!’ There was a crash as Lukas threw down his cutlery. Lilith—his twin—jolted in her seat, scooting her chair closer to Rymedur at her brother’s sudden outburst.

‘Lukas!’ Jessika’s stern voice came from Rymedur’s other side.

But Lukas wasn’t listening. Anger burned behind his emerald eyes. ‘Don’t you remember what day it is?’ He turned his body to face Rymedur as he spat the question out in an accusatory tone. ‘How can you sit there and act like everything is fine when it’s not?’

‘Lukas,’ James hissed, ‘stop this.’

‘No—’ Rymedur raised a hand to his eldest son and placed it on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. ‘Let him continue,’ he turned to face Lukas, giving him his undivided attention. ‘If Lukas has something on his mind, I would like to hear it.’

What he wasn’t expecting was for Lukas to ask him about Areanel.

‘Where is Ina?’ Lukas asked.

The children knew better than to ask about their mother when she was away on a mission—or so Rymedur had thought. But he could not deny the crawling sense of guilt picking at the back of his mind, reminding him of the anxiety he’d felt in the king’s study. His shadows swayed against his skin in a snake-like motion, like they, too, wondered where she was.

Because what could he say? That he didn’t know where Areanel was? That their grandfather had sent her on a mission, knowing full well what day this was? That even the king was unsure as to why she had not yet returned.

No. That would only make them worry. Areanel was more than capable of looking after herself.

‘She’s busy,’ was the answer Rymedur settled on.

Lukas’s scoff was nothing short of disappointment. ‘So, Grandfather sent her on another mission, then.’

The sigh Rymedur let out was a heavy weight upon his shoulders. They worried as much as he did. ‘You know she doesn’t have a choice in it—’

‘Bullshit!’ Lukas slammed his fists into the table, the dishes clattering. ‘Why today of all days?’ The crack in his voice was like a spear to Rymedur’s already fracturing heart. ‘Doesn’t he have any compassion?’

With every word Lukas spat, steam rolled off the dishes in waves. ‘We should be having dinner together, as a family—sharing memories about Resmundur.’

Silence was an echo of their grief as it settled over the room at the mention of Rymedur’s youngest son. The boy would’ve been coming up on his ninth year; he would have been able to travel to Selcirith with his brothers to study with his grandmother. Oh, how Rymedur knew his mother would have loved having all three boys with her.

Tears prickled in the corner of his vision. Rymedur had to clench his teeth to stop them from escaping. If he cried now, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. The grip he had on his utensils tightened until his knuckles turned white and his hands trembled.

‘We’ve spoken about this.’ His tone was calm, precise. One he only used around his soldiers, though Rymedur didn’t have to look up to know his powers had responded.

Shadows grew in the corner of the room, expanding and drawing closer. Rymedur tried with all his strength to abate them—to get a hold of them once more. But they refused to bend to his will.

The shuffle of skirts and the scraping of a chair against stone had Rymedur’s gaze darting to his immediate left. Lilith shrank in her seat, making herself seem smaller. The way she pushed her chair away from Rymedur and the way her mug shook as she brought it close to her chest made Rymedur’s heart clench with guilt.

‘Da, we can’t just forget him!’ Lukas’s shouts did not relent.

‘Lukas, please. Don’t do this now,’ Jessika repeated—but Rymedur saw the way her eyes glazed over—a telltale sign she was drawing from her power to bring a semblance of calm to the situation.

But Rymedur wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Lukas shot up from his seat and averted his gaze, voice rising in pitch. ‘Don’t you dare use your silver tongue abilities on me, JJ! What’s so wrong about wanting to remember him?’ His gaze was unwavering as he stared down his nose at every one of his siblings, skipping over Rymedur completely. It was as though the boy knew that if he looked at his father, his bravery would waver. ‘They may have lost a son, but they’re not the only ones who grieve. We lost a brother.’

There it was again, the break in his voice which created another spiderwebbing fracture in Rymedur’s heart. He was right, of course. They had lost a brother, just as Rymedur and Areanel had lost a son.

‘If we don’t remember him, his memory will be lost. Don’t act like you don’t agree.’ His emerald eyes—replicas of Rymedur’s own—jumped from one person to the next until they landed on James, who sat stock-still on Rymedur’s right. ‘James?’ His voice was verging on pleading.

‘That is enough, Lukas.’ James used the same calm, precise tone as Rymedur had. The look he gave his younger brother was one of stern warning. Do not cross the line, it seemed to say.

And it worked—but only because Rymedur knew how much Lukas respected and loved his older brother. Rymedur was glad that he and Areanel had decided to have more children after the eldest twins. Rymedur had no biological siblings, only having been able to form bonds with his brothers-in-arms, but even then, he was glad he’d had them…