Tehvan wondered, not for the first time, if his brother would turn that same fury on him, should he catch even a whiff of disloyalty.
"You’re quiet," Thorn said. "I expect you to grovel, to wheedle, to try to make me see reason. Instead you stand there, silent as a corpse." He stepped closer, despite both brothers being the same height, Thorn’s cold, calculated demeanor towered over Tehvan. "Let’s speak plainly. You want her free. But if she comes back here, even for a moment, you know I’ll break her. I’ll tear her apart, and I’ll make you watch. Hell, I’ll make you participate.”
Tehvan’s breath hitched. Abernathy saw it. He smiled, a ghastly rictus that looked painful to wear.
“So, why are you helping me? If you really cared, you’d join her now. Help her run. Instead, you’re here, shuffling my papers and making plans to catch her and bring her back. Why?"
Tehvan didn’t answer. He stared down at the floor, scanning the massacre of precious vials, the ink-bled memos, the amber pools of booze soaking into custom-stitched rugs. Everything was unraveling. Abernathy was catching on, soon he would put it together that Tehvan was who helped Elora escape. And if he did, what would Thorn do? He hated Tehvan for what happened to his niece, but would he condemn his own brother? Tehvan only hadone last card to play to deter Thorn from recapturing Elora. What Thorn actually wanted all along.
“You’re right, Abernathy. I don’t want her back here. Frankly, I’d prefer her be on the other side of the world even if I’m not with her, then risk you ever getting your hands on her again.”
Thorn’s eyes widened. “You betrayed me. You admit it? You helped her escape?”
“No, I didn’t help her. Abernathy, I want her safe and free. Let me find her, let me leave with her, your work protected and out of reach of The Empire and I’ll tell you where to find what you truly want. What you’ve always wanted. What this has always been about.”
For a second he couldn’t tell if Thorn was even breathing. He didn’t blink. A vein bulged in his temple. Finally, containing all his rage behind a thin veil he asked, “What?”
“I’ll tell you where Florence is.”
Chapter 27
Tehvan
The silence stretched for one heartbeat. Two. Then Thorn exploded.
The first punch came so hard and fast it broke skin and maybe a molar, snapping Tehvan’s head sideways into a portrait of their father. Glass and blood in his mouth, sweet with the taste of shock, Tehvan barely had time to register a second fist driving into his ribs. Something cracked, but he spat the blood out and straightened, refusing to give Thorn the satisfaction of seeing him stumble. Too slow. Thorn bulldozed him back, both hands clutching Tehvan’s collar, and the world spun before his back hit the mortared stone hard enough to make the sconces rattle.
"You lying bastard!" Thorn's voice was a roar, spittle flying from his lips. "All these years—ALL THESE YEARS—you let me think she was dead!" His grip tightened, nails nearly puncturing the fabric. "I mourned her. I blamed myself. I blamed you. And she's been alive?!"
Tehvan's head rang from the impact, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't fight back. He met Thorn's wild gaze steadily. "Yes."
The simple admission seemed to drain some of the violence from Thorn, replaced by something more dangerous—a quietseething fury. He released Tehvan's collar but didn't step back, his breathing ragged.
"Where?" The word came out as a whisper, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. "Where is she?"
"Not until you agree—"
Thorn's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Tehvan's throat. "I will kill you slowly. I will hunt down your precious Elora and make her suffer in ways that would make Gerard look merciful. I will tear apart everything you've ever cared about." His grip tightened incrementally. "WHERE IS FLORA?"
Tehvan's vision began to darken at the edges, but he forced out the words through his constricted windpipe. "She... chose this. She begged me..."
Thorn's grip loosened just enough for Tehvan to breathe. "What?"
"She came to me the night before the incident," Tehvan gasped, massaging his throat as Abernathy stepped back. "Terrified. Broken. She said she couldn't be what you wanted her to be. Said the pressure, the expectations—they were killing her from the inside."
"Lies."
"She asked me to help her disappear. To make it look like an accident." Tehvan straightened, finding his footing again. "I refused, but she was so desperate, Abernathy. She would have run with or without my help. She said she wasn't smart enough, wasn't strong enough. That she'd never be the legacy you deserved and couldn't bear to disappoint you."
Thorn's face contorted, a mix of rage and something that might have been grief. "She was mine. My legacy.My—"
"She was fourteen years old and convinced she could never measure up to your brilliance. When did you last tell her she was enough as she was?"
For a moment, Abernathy looked genuinely stricken. Then the mask slammed back into place, harder than before. "So you helped her run. And then what? Replaced her with another girl to mock me?"
Tehvan's shoulders sagged slightly. "I never meant it as mockery. I just... I wanted a daughter. One who wanted me back." His voice grew quieter. "You were right about that. Elora was in a way a replacement. But not to spite you—to fill the hole Florence left when she chose to leave."
"Chose," Thorn spat. "As if a child can make such choices."
