Not. Going. To. Happen.
Years of carefully planned switches and rules and masks and chains, and in one swift move, he was going to tear them all apart. It was something the two of them should have discussed beforehand, but there was no time for that, and frankly, if his brother could make a bold decision like shooting at the Imperial Prince, then Rin could sure as hell make this one.
“Now, Sila,” their father said.
Rin headed to the dining room table and snatched the pack from the surface, the Vail University crest pin flashing in the overhead lights as he started walking about the room, shoving clothing items and small knickknacks he’d purchased over the course of the past year and a half into it.
His brother was the only one who didn’t seem confused.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Crate asked.
“You said to pack,” he replied, continuing to collect things, only partially seeing what they were as they were lifted and stuffed into the black backpack. That unsettling feeling was growing within him, his skin starting to feel too itchy and tight. If he didn’t keep moving he’d lose it, and given his current state, he couldn’t even properly guess which way he’d go, fight or flight.
He hoped for the first if it came down to it. At least then he could go out with some dignity.
“Don’t be difficult,” their father snapped.
“I’m not.” He left the spare uniform hanging over the side of the couch alone, seeing as how he wouldn’t be needing it on Tibera.
“Only Sila Varun will be allowed to leave,” Lyra said, her cool voice nothing like the kind and open one from that day they’d met.
“Of course, Heir Imperial.” He kept packing.
“Rin Varun!” Crate’s composure cracked.
His brother slid his gaze to him. “Yes, Father?”
If a pin had dropped then, it would have sounded like an explosion.
Chapter 31:
A part of him wanted to storm across the room and put his fist into Sila’s face, but knowing he was Rin’s brother, and how upset that would make him, was the only thing holding Kelevra back.
He wasn’t usually caught by surprise, but hearing it’d been Sila who’d taken a shot at him? That had stolen his ability to speak, so he’d stood back and allowed the others to discuss it, trying to curb the insatiable desire to attack first and worry about the consequences after. When his sister suggested banishing him as punishment, Kelevra held his tongue.
Aside from it angering Rin for a bit, he could see no beneficial reason to allow Sila to stay. If he’d fired a blaster at Kel, it could only have been because he thought he was doing his brother a favor. Then there was that comment about how he couldn’t be trusted. Sila didn’t want the two of them to be together. He’d become an obstacle between Kelevra and Rin. That was unacceptable.
He’d been so focused on planning all the ways he could make it up to Rin later, once they’d both cooled down, when Sila looked their father dead in the eye and responded to the wrong name.
Kelevra felt his mind malfunction, a flash of anxiety sweeping through him—which was odd since that was typically something he couldn’t experience.
“You never could tell us apart,” Rin spoke then and it was like watching a switch flickering on in both him and his brother, their demeanors shifting almost instantly. He dropped the bag at his feet and cocked out a hip.
Meanwhile, his brother stiffened to his full height, the nervous expression he’d been wearing—fake—dropping away, replaced by an eerily calm expression.
Kelevra had seen them like this before, Rin, angry and bitter, that perpetual scowl twisting his features. Sila was almost robotic in contrast but with a looseness to him. One was like ice, the other water. They were as he’d come to know them.
It became glaringly obvious their father could not say the same.
“It helped he never tried,” Sila replied.
“Yes,” Rin agreed. “That’s true. Thanks for that I suppose. Certainly made our lives easier.”
“It’s the only good thing you’ve ever done, in fact.”
“What is going on here?” Crate stumbled over his words. “Enough playing around. You aren’t children anymore, do you really think this stunt—”
“He thinks we’re lying,” Sila said, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a way that was neither warm nor filled with humor.
