Petur’s mind swirled with such thoughts, so much that he was a little bit surprised when he found himself outside of Arven’s room. He knocked, then entered without waiting for a reply. He was the uncle, dammit—he didn’t have to stand on ceremony.
He was surprised to find neither tears nor sobs when he entered the room but laughter. Deyvid, Arven, Delanie, and Givencie were seated around Arven’s table. There was a stack of cards in the center of it, and each of them held a hand of their own. As he watched, Deyvid reached toward the pile. He turned it over, and—
“Double!” Givencie jerked a card out of her hand and slapped it down on top of the one on the table before anyone else could move to do so. “Double! I doubled it,” she said. “I can use a four, right? Because four is two doubled.”
“Very good,” Deyvid said. “Absolutely. That was a very good play.”
“Oh,” Delanie sighed. “I have a six, I could have tripled!”
“You should learn to do math faster,” Givencie said, picking up the cards and adding them to the pile in front of her. “I’msogood at math.”
Arven, who looked none the worse for wear that Petur could see, smiled at his little sister. “Good for you.”
Petur stopped in front of their table. “No greeting for me?” he asked, heavy affront in every syllable.
“Greetings are for people who knock,” Arven said.
“You’re interrupting our game, Uncle Petur,” Givencie said. “I want to keep playing the game.”
“And you’re free to do so.” He caught Arven’s eye. “Come talk to me for a moment if you please.”
“Of course.” Arven laid his cards down and got up from the table. “I’ll be back before too many hands have passed,” he promised his sisters, then let Petur guide him over to the quietest corner of the room.
“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” Petur told him in a low voice as he clasped his upper arms. Arven’s determined smile broke a little bit at the corners with the touch, and Petur pulled the younger man into an embrace. “You did well,” he said as his nephew shuddered with pent-up tension. “So well.”
“It was so stupid,” Arven mumbled against his shoulder. “I should have been looking out more carefully. I should have—"
“You had every reason to expect you would be safe in your own home,” Petur said determinedly. “That’s not on you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”
“Ugh,” Arven groaned. “Don’t let Father distract you with that. What could you have done? It’s not your job to follow me around either.”
“It’s my job to make sure the palace is secure for the people who live here,” Petur pointed out.
“It was a mage; there was nothing you could have done against them.”
Petur frowned and pulled back so he could look at his nephew clearly. “I was under the impression we didn’t know who tried to assassinate you.”
“I mean, we don’t know specifically,” Arven said with a little eye roll, “but when I took Deyvid to the spot, he was able to determine immediately that it had been a mage.”
“And how did he determine such a thing?” Petur asked.
“They left the crossbow behind,” Arven said. “The butt end of it was freshly blackened, like something had burned there. He says he’s seen that kind of thing before. It’s a spell you can put on an object for extra accuracy, but it has to be triggered by someone with magic.”
“Why doesn’t your father know this?” Petur demanded.
“I told him, but he doesn’t believe me,” Arven replied. “He wants to think it’s Harriers. You know how paranoid he gets about them.”
Petur wiped his hand across his tired eyes. It was like all the relaxation he and Deyvid had managed to store up had been dashed in under an hour. “So your father’s convinced it’s a Harrier. Deyvid is convinced it’s a mage. Where’s the crossbow now?”
“Vandry has it.”
Oh, naturally. Vandry was a good choice, solid and reliable. “Send Deyvid over to me, would you?”
“Of course.”
“And Arven.” Petur stopped him as he began to walk away. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and his nephew smiled brightly. “Truly proud. You saved your own life against a hidden opponent with a spelled weapon. That’s truly impressive.”
“Thank you, Uncle Petur.” His back was a bit straighter as he returned to the table. A moment later, it was Deyvid who was leaving the girls behind, to a chorus of despair.
