“I’m going to talk to the new head of security.” Fel strode off.
Vorik spotted Lieutenant Wise and several other men from his squadron who’d been brave enough to come to the castle and lifted an arm. They were sticking together while browsing at the end of one of the long tables—Vorik wasn’t the only stormer man who’d found he had a love for sweets. He started toward them but glimpsed someone in black entering through the courtyard gate and stopped.
Jhiton strode in, wearing his sheathed swords, his riding leathers, and the fur-trimmed cloak of his general’s position.Numerous guards reached instinctively for weapons but paused when he looked balefully at them.
A senior officer said, “He’s on the guest list.”
Ignoring someone else saying, “But is he supposed to bearmed?” and the way dozens of other conversations halted, Vorik grinned and waved for Jhiton to join him.
As usual, his brother’s face held little expression and could have been carved in stone. He didnotgrin. Vorik hoped he had come to watch the ceremony and enjoy himself, not bring or report trouble. His eyebrows did twitch slightly when he took in thetrimmingthat Vorik had endured.
“Did you come to tease me about having combed hair?” Vorik asked when Jhiton stopped at his side, putting his back to one of the stone walls and letting his gaze rove over the crowd, as ifhewere the head of security.
“That’s not why I came, no, but I will do so. You look like one of their aristocratic dandies.”
“A servant scrubbed my back earlier. It felt better than I should admit.”
“You’re letting thembatheyou?”
“Not regularly, but this is a special occasion. Someone’s going to paint a portrait of Syla and me afterward. They want me to look nice.”
“They want you to lookdomesticated.”
“Youdidcome to tease me. I’m touched.” Vorik grinned again, refusing to feel shamed by his brother’s mockery. The eyes of the moon knew he’d teased Jhiton many,manytimes in their lives, so he probably deserved some payback.
“I came because…” Jhiton trailed off as the kitchen boys jogged past again. Was that smoke wafting up from the corner of the courtyard near the stable? Maybe one of the hatchlings had matured precociously andcouldlight things on fire.
“You care about me, despite our recent differences, and want to support me in my new life?” Vorik suggested.
Jhiton squinted at him. Vorik expected a snarky comment, especially sincerecent differencesdidn’t properly convey that they’d almost battled to the death—multiple times.
Surprisingly, Jhiton said, “Idowish to do that.” He gazed over the crowd again, this time pausing when he spotted Syla, who’d stepped outside with an entourage of female attendants. “Even though you attempted to kill me, and your fiancée has tried to kill meninetimes.”
“Are you sure that’s an accurate count? I feel like you might have lost track by this point.”
“I have not. My memory is excellent. I also came because she sent word, via the dragon relay system, that she has a position she wants me to consider.”
“Kneeling and apologizing for the many times you’ve vexed her and her people?”
“I don’tkneelto anyone.”
“With an attitude like that, you may never again know the adoration of a woman.”
Jhiton sighed at him.
“Sorry,” Vorik said. “I know it’s difficult having an irreverent and occasionally disappointing brother.”
Jhiton grunted and looked toward Syla again.
“You’re supposed to say I’mnotdisappointing,” Vorik said. “That I actually haven’t done half badly for our people.”
“Do you think I should report my arrival to her?”
“Jhiton.”
This time, Jhiton was the one to grin, however briefly.
“You’re a bastard,” Vorik said. “No wonder Syla keeps trying to kill you. And, no, I promise you, based on all the people staring at you as they move to theotherside of the courtyard, she knows you’re here.”
