Yards away, vibrant green eyes meet mine for only a fraction of a second before Aeton swiftly looks away.
“Are you?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes, though a dangerous grin still plays at his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“A truth for a truth, then.” I raise my tea.
Casimir brings his cup to mine, clinking them together. We both sip. We both stare over our cups, waiting for the other to speak first. It was my idea though, so I must offer my truth.
“I...”Fuck. I shouldn’t be saying any of this out loud.“I don’t want it to end.”It’s not even really begun.
“I bloody knew it. I called that.” He snaps his fingers at me. All I want to do is slap that shitty grin right off his smug cheeks. After his brief celebration of his own personal victory, he shakes his head, the smile dissolving. “You know you have to end it now. You can’t let it get farther than it’s already gotten.”
I don’t dare another peek at Valentina and Beau. “I know that. Of course, I know that.” Tipping my head, I give him a pointed look.Your turn.
That cocky attitude drains away, leaving Casimir wringing his hands. Mousey brown hair grazes his chin, his attention lowered to his hands. “You were right. It never stopped for me either.”
My fingers curl into the smooth armrests of my seat. I groan as I tip my head back. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was better not truly knowing.”
“We’re both scumbags, aren’t we?”
My mouth twitches into half a grin. “Probably.”
Casimir smooths a hand down his loose charcoal-gray shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal the top of his chest. He taps his fingers against his cup, his ringstinkingwith every movement. Comfortable silence envelopes us again, though it’s tinged with our own shame. I make to finish my scone while he greedily drinks the last of his coffee.
The door to the patio slams open so hard, the entire awning shakes. Casimir and I both sit up straight, turning toward the noise to find Bramwell breathing hard with a paper clasped in his hand. I can see the way he takes note of the two of us so far away from the others before he casually walks to our table, followed by both Ashton and Koa. The soft curve of Koa’s face reminds me of our mother’s, and my eyes sting for a moment before I look back to Bramwell.
My brother holds the paper out to me. No, not just a paper, I realize. An envelope. A wax seal. A royal seal. One second, the letter is in his hand, and the next I’ve snatched it, clinging to it like it’s my only life line. Not my life line... but Violence’s.
I’ll fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix this.I think to myself.
“Ashton, Koa, go play. I’ll be out there soon to beat you both in every event.” Bramwell juts his chin toward the lawn.
Koa leans around Bramwell, snatching the last bite of my scone from my plate. “I want to know what the letter is about,” he says through crumbling pastry. One swat to the back of his head from Ashton, and Koa practically chokes on the bite. Koa’s cheeks burn red, and his center-parted black hair falls into his eyes.
“It’s not for you, weasel,” Ashton quips. But we all know that he wants to linger too. In fact, he exchanges a look with Bramwell that tells me he’ll be fully informed of anything we say or do after he is gone.
I point a finger at my youngest full-blooded brother. “You owe me a bite of scone. Now the two of you,” I wave a hand away, “scram.”
Koa starts to whine, but Ashton dutifully shoves him along. Bramwell takes a long step forward, and for emphasis, pushes Koa even further along with his foot.
“Get out of here, you little brat.” Bramwell chuckles.
Koa is already pouting, but at the age of twelve and about a head and a half shorter than the rest of us, he knows he can’t win. Ashton laughs and ruffles his hair before tugging him against him. I can only imagine Ashton is trying to place a bet with the kid to swindle him out of something.
I turn the letter over in my hand. Tracing a finger along the navy-blue wax seal, I send a prayer to whoever will listen. The wax pops off easily and leaves behind a greasy residue.
Bramwell huffs an impatient breath as he lowers into the seat between me and Casimir. “From Prince Dalziel. It came just now. Should have seen the look on the servant’s face when I ripped it from his hand and took off running. Obviously, a few tagalongs came after as well.”
“How much have you told Ashton?” I arch a brow, carefully unfolding the letter.
“Nothing of real importance.” Bramwell picks at his teeth, avoiding my gaze.
Such a liar.We all know he tells Ashton everything, but I’ll play along. At least Koa isn’t subjected to every trivial piece of gossip and the never-ending politics of our courts.
“This came... fast.” I open it to reveal fine, carefully written script printed with the elegance only someone who’s been properly educated all their lives could perform. My entire body warms with a nervous flutter at what I’ll find in response to my proposed union.
“Read it!” Casimir encourages.
