Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Warrehn’s answering smile was more of a feral grimace, all teeth and no warmth. “I’m sure you are, Aunt Dalatteya. If you’ll excuse us. My brother is tired.”
“Of course,” Dalatteya said, looking at Eridan warmly. “But you absolutely must come down for dinner, Eridan. My Samir will be delighted to see you, I’m sure.”
Eridan smiled back. “Thank you, I’m very much looking forward to it.”
He and Warrehn strode away from the woman.
When they were no longer in hearing distance, Warrehn said, “What the fuck? Did Idhron screw with her mind to make her be nice to you?”
Eridan told himself he should be horrified. He told himself brainwashing was the most terrible thing that could happen to a person, no matter how bad they were. But he couldn’t quite eradicate the shameful warmth that curled in his stomach. Maybe his Master cared for him, in his own horrible, messed up way. The next moment, he felt angry with himself for entertaining such thoughts. Stop. Just stop.
Looking away, Eridan said, “You accused Master of brainwashing me, but that was what brainwashing looks like, Warrehn. It doesn’t quite look natural. Brainwashed people can’t even think critically of the subject of their brainwashing; they lose all their agency. If my Master brainwashed me, I wouldn’t even be able to argue with him.”
When Warrehn didn’t say anything, Eridan looked at him.
Warrehn had a strange expression on his face.
“What?”
Warrehn pursed his lips briefly. “Stop calling him Master, kid. He’s the High Adept of the High Hronthar; that’s all. If we’re unlucky, we’ll see him a few times a year at some official functions. He’s not your Master anymore. He’s no one to you.”
Eridan averted his gaze. “I know that,” he said tersely.
Warrehn sighed. “Do you?” he murmured before stopping in front of a door. “This one is yours. If you don’t like the room, you can choose any other, obviously. My bedroom is two doors down the corridor.”
Eridan gave a clipped nod. “Thanks.” He entered the room and shut the door behind himself.
He looked around.
The bedroom was large and beautiful, decorated in neutral colors. There was a huge walk-in closet full of different types of clothes, approximately his size. They all looked brand new. Warrehn must have ordered those to be made for him.
Eridan would have been touched by his thoughtfulness if there wasn’t a cold, hollow feeling in his chest, worsening now that he was alone with his thoughts.
He drew a deep breath of air in through his nose and held it in his lungs as he sank to the floor of his huge closet. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly.
He had no reason to feel this way.
He should be happy.
He was happy.
He’s not your Master anymore. He’s no one to you.
Today was the start of his new life. His real life. He finally had a family. A brother who wanted him. Who cared for him. He should be ecstatic.
If we’re unlucky, we’ll see him a few times a year at some official functions.
Eridan’s eyes burned. He squeezed them shut.
It was fine.
He was fine.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Masks
Warrehn paced the terrace adjoining the ballroom where a party was in full swing.
Pacing was an old habit from the time he had been a boy, an angry boy confined to Lehr Manor. The angrier or more worried he got, the stronger was the desire to do something, to act, and pacing worked like a moving meditation of sorts. It helped him think.
He was worried for his brother.
His brother.
Part of him still couldn’t believe he’d found him, after almost two decades.
Eridan wasn’t really what Warrehn had expected his little brother to grow up into. Little Eri had been an adorable child, kind and quick to smile. Not that Eridan wasn’t kind, per se. Warrehn was sure he was, under all the prickliness. But the brightness of his eyes… It was completely missing.
At first, Warrehn had told himself that it was natural. All little boys grew up into men eventually, and it was natural for a child to lose their happy personality as they aged.
But as days shifted into months, Warrehn wasn’t sure anymore that it was a natural state of mind for Eridan. It wasn’t as though his brother was distant or detached; no, it was something else. Eridan had shown interest in getting to know him and fixing Warrehn’s shaky political situation. He’d even volunteered to take on the royal duties Warrehn hated: things like going to balls and making nice with other members of the Council. Despite growing up in a monastery, Eridan was still loads better at socializing than Warrehn could ever hope to be, and over the past few months, had quickly become a media darling.
“I don’t get why you’re worried, War,” Rohan said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was watching the ballroom from a chair on the terrace, sipping his drink idly. “He’s good at being a prince. He certainly looks more comfortable than you.”