“Flower,” Kelevra didn’t know what to follow that up with, freezing when Rin turned to meet his gaze.
“My name is Sila Varun,” he said stiffly. “Giving nicknames to your fiancé's twin brother is unbecoming and genuinely frowned upon, Imperial Prince.”
“He’s no fiancé of mine,” his brother—the imposter—chimed in. He looked to Lyra. “I will be contesting this betrothal, Heir Imperial. Although, I think we can all agree breaking things amicably is for the best all around.”
“Stop this at once!” Crate huffed.
“Would you like to run a test?” Rin—because no matter what they said, Kelevra knew whohisRin was and he refused to call him any other name but—suggested without skipping a beat. The corner of his mouth turned up viciously, in complete juxtaposition to his twin. There was so much untethered emotion and rage there it was impossible to miss. “We know you’ve programmed your multi-slate to act as a blood tester.”
“Pretentious,” Sila chuckled, the sound just as empty as his expression. “How many years has it been since you’ve held an active role at Varun Hospital, Father?”
“Six,” Rin supplied. Then he held out his hand. “Here. Prick my finger if you’re so sure. Let’s see which of us knows who we are best, shall we?”
“Am I to believe,” Lyra interrupted the family moment, “that the two of you have switched places? When?”
“On and off since we were eight,” Sila said. “It stopped for a while when we came here, but old habits die hard, so they say.”
“And my brother fell for—”
Kelevra pointed at his flower before she could finish. “That one. That one’s mine.”
“Sila Varun isn’t the name listed on the decree, I’m afraid,” Sila—the imposter bastard who apparently was really named Rin—made a sound as though he felt bad for him.
That day in the bathroom when Rin had found out about the betrothal, he’d said some strange things that Kelevra just hadn’t understood as odd at the time. Now it made sense. It also explained why he’d been so desperate to break the engagement despite how his body craved Kel’s touch.
“That one is mine,” Kel stated firmly. He held Rin’s gaze.
“This one is a liar unfit for the Imperial family,” he dared to say. “And as you’ve heard, I also happen to be on my way off planet.”
The Imposter turned to his brother. “Forget this. The plan has moved up, that’s all.”
Rin frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I have a way. I’ve been working toward it ever since you caught the eye of an Imperial Prince. Great job.”
“I already apologized,” Rin sneered, that temper leaking through despite the situation and the audience.
“Don’t worry, big brother,” some of the blank mask slipped when he looked at Rin, “I’ve got us. Everything is in order. I just need to grab something and then we can be on the first ship off planet.”
“Neither of you is going anywhere until we properly sort this out,” Crate said, freezing up when the twins both turned his way in an almost eerie fashion.
Kelevra vaguely wondered what they looked like to their father, a man used to seeing them poised. Fake. His perfect sons, and yet one was empty and the other was seething with so much pent-up emotion it looked like he’d explode any minute now. While Kel was used to them being their true selves around him, he could imagine the shock Crate must be experiencing.
“Do you remember when I broke your award from that medical conference and you locked me out for the night during a storm?” Rin asked.
“Of course,” Crate clipped out.
Sila held up his hand. “That was me.”
“What about when I almost drowned Bo Brung?” Rin said.
Crate set a glare on Sila, but Sila merely lifted a second hand in the universal gesture of surrender or innocence.
“Thatwasactually me.” Rin shook his head at their father. “You never knew the difference. You don’t know the difference now. Take a good look. Can’t you see it?”
“Should we give him a computer eye,” Sila suggested, his gaze lighting up with something manic, “like your Imperial Prince?”
Rin scowled. “Don’t call him that.”
