“If Mother sees that...” Arawn said.
“She won’t,” Kinlear assured him. “I always burn them.”
He winced as he shifted his body. A hiss left his lips...and it was then that Arawn noticed the fresh penance mark on his wrist.
“How many have you gotten lately?” Arawn asked, as his heart sank. “Your marks.”
He’d paid penance very few times in his life, for he was quick to learn...quick to make things right with the Five. He owed his crown and his magic, whenever he Settled, to them.
But Kinlear wascoveredin marks.
“I...” he swallowed.
“Kinlear. How many?” Arawn asked again.
He could see them now, a few at the back of his neck, another on his opposite hand. Brand marks that had sunk deep into his skin, in the shape of the five Pillars of magic.
Arawn didn’t see Kinlear as much these days, for their father kept his schedule packed to the brim. But he’d heard the whispers about the other prince. He’d heard how often he was seen in the library, leaving the room meant for penance.
And there wereothersthat paid, too. Older Sacred that paid frequently for stepping out of line, Sacred that pushed too far, until eventually...they were never seen again.
“It’s not like I count them,” Kinlear said now.
“You have to stop,” Arawn said. “Whatever it is that you do to break the laws. Youmuststop, Kinny, before...”
“Before I die?” Kinlear asked.
Arawn flinched.
He wasn’t going to say it out loud. Because even if he did...Kinlear wouldn’t listen. But suddenly he felt sick, for it wastoo much. He’d felt the pain only once, the first time he’d lied...and he knew the Masters had gone easy on him.
Did they hold back when it came to Kinlear?
Did they see the shadows beneath his eyes, the shallowness of his cheeks, the way his bones looked like they might break?
Did they hear his coughs each night, so loud Arawn swore it could shake the stones in their tower?
Did they see the blood smeared on his pillow, the red stains on his lips...
Did they look at Kinlear, the way Arawn did, and wonder how many days he had left tolive?
He would die someday.
He would die and there wouldn’t even be a sword for Arawn to plunge into the snow for him, because Kinlear wasn’t a warrior worthy of holding such a space.
And... Arawn wasn’t certain, when his brother left, how much of his heart Kinlear would take to the grave with him.
“I do try to behave,” Kinlear said softly, as the fire crackled besidethem. Arawn wanted to sidle up close to it, let it burn the sadness from his veins. “Itryto please the gods.”
“Then try harder,” Arawn said.
Kinlear nodded.
But he wouldn’t.
Arawn had always known it.
Outside, the wind howled as another fresh snowstorm announced its arrival.
