“Yes, I begged him not to grade this week’s pop quiz because my twin and I had planned to swap places and he’s bad at psychology,” Sila retorted, testing out the sarcastic tone his brother often used on him, though he was only mildly paying attention now.
“You’re such a dick.”
“I didn’t tell him anything,” he said.
“Obviously I know that,” his brother snapped. “But something happened. Before he could never tell us apart, gave us that sappy, puppy dog love look—”
“Cat in heat,” Sila corrected.
“What?” He blew out a breath. “What the fuck ever. My point is, he figured it out.”
“I’ve got this.”
“You don’t have shit.”
Sila’s hand clenched into a fist. “Brother. I’ve got this.”
There was a pause and then a heavy sigh. “Fine, no need to come at me with that scary tone of yours. It’s in the rules anyway. I don’t fuck with what’s yours, you don’t fuck with what’s mine.”
“What’s mine is what’s yours,” Sila said, “and vice versa.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want Professor Delmar, so you keep him, and more importantly, you keep him the hell away from me. Got it?”
“Afraid your Imperial might get jealous?” Sila asked. Then he really considered it and came to the conclusion he wasn’t overly fond of that idea. “If he tries anything—”
“He won’t touch your precious professor,” his brother cut him off, and there was a hint of sulkiness in his voice. “He’s too busy playing games. You assholes, you’re just alike. Always thinking you can manipulate people right into the palm of your hand.”
Sila kept quiet since there was no arguing about that and he knew it. Though, he wouldn’t say he and Kelevra Diar were allthatsimilar.
Kelevra allowed his devilish nature to explode on the world around him.
Sila kept his more contained, homing it on the things that mattered, allowing himself to slip through the cracks unseen. But then, this was mostly due to the fact he didn’t have the same luxuries as the Imperial Prince. There was no Emperor or Heir Imperial who would clean up his messes if he screwed up and caused a blood bath.
He’d been saddled with Crate Varun as a father.
Fate must have taken pity on him, however, because in that moment, the door to the class room opened and in walked in the Devil of discussion.
Sila grinned when Kelevra paused in the doorway.
“I’ll have to call you later, brother,” he said, hand already lifting to the circular emblem-slate around his wrist. When he hung up, it was to the sound of being cursed in their secret language. He tipped his head at the Imperial. “Not your flower.”
“No shit,” Kelevra drawled. He made his way over to the front of the classroom and turned to perch against the edge of the teacher’s desk. When he crossed his arms, it completed the picture he was no doubt trying to portray of the man in charge.
The corner of Sila’s mouth curved upward and he dropped his gaze before it could be noticed.
Even though they were currently on Academy grounds, Kelevra wasn’t in uniform like the rest of them. He’d never been held to the same rigid standards, and instead was sporting one of his famous corset vests. The colors were a mixture of bold blues and swirling patterns of gold, the suit jacket and pants matching so it all came together. He looked like he was about to head to a ball or a party, not whatever the hell this class was called.
Sila glanced over the Imperial’s shoulder at the projection board. Ah. Nano Tech 101.
“I assume there’s a reason for your visit, Imposter,” Kelevra broke the silence then. “If it’s about—”
“My brother doesn’t know we’re having this discussion,” he interrupted and held his gaze. “I’m expecting it to stay that way.”
Kel quirked a brow. His hazel eyes tracked Sila’s movements and, though it was subtle, it was obvious he was using his computerized eye to check on his physical health. He could lock onto people’s bodies and use that information to determine if they were lying to him or even what kind of mood they were in.
“You don’t work the same way normal people do,” Kelevra said then, sounding interested in that fact. “It’s similar to what I see when I look in the mirror and try to get a reading on myself.”
“What about Baikal Void?”
