Chapter 2 Neirin #3
Harlan pouted, leaned against the counter, and rested his chin on a palm. I snapped the green foliage from the carrots and separated them. “Veritran is boring.”
Veritran was the resident professor. He instructed all the children raised in the castle, including myself and the other boys of the castle guard.
Harlan, with his title, was tutored in the castle library one-on-one, not in the hall where I’d been forced to sit days on end with half a dozen others listening to the man’s flat tempo of a voice.
He was dull—terribly so—but that didn’t matter.
“It’s not supposed to be exciting,” I told him. “You need to learn if you want to be King one day.”
Gods be good that day didn’t come anytime soon. The boy wasn’t ready for such an undertaking. With a prickle of guilt, I wondered if he ever would be. It wasn’t his fault, really. Kaius never reprimanded him, nor did Astraea.
Despite the role the Queen took in my own discipline as a boy, she’d never once raised a hand to her son.
Never scolded him or enforced any kind of boundaries.
The sun rose and fell on Harlan in the Queen’s eyes.
She’d lost five pregnancies that I could count before the boy, and two since.
He was a blessing, and I could understand that.
But still, doting on him as she did would only hurt him in the long run. She had to see that.
The boy was spoiled, and because of it, he acted immaturely. His knowledge of the kingdom and the people who resided in it was lacking, to say the least. He knew nothing of which towns exported what goods, which families were to be trusted, and which to be watchful of.
By eight, I’d committed myself to the guard, killed with my first blooding, and left the comforts of the room Nyana and I shared to bed among battle-toughened guards in the barracks.
Yet my brother, in all his innocence, knew only of his comfortable life within the upper levels of the castle.
He cared little to learn what lay beyond the walls that separated the royal gardens and courtyards from the rest of the city, the rest of the kingdom.
“Knife,” I said, tone flat, and the boy retrieved one for me. I began scraping the rough outer layer of a purple carrot, eyeing him as he picked through the basket of berries, oblivious to my scrutiny.
Perhaps I should’ve taken a more significant role in his life, stepped in where Kaius hadn’t, and shown the boy some discipline, some guidance. But the fear that I may lose control, and may replay the horrors of the past, kept me submissive. Control was easier when I kept my emotions at bay.
“Fuck.” A drop of blood came to the surface of my thumb where I’d nicked it in my distracted state. I sucked at it, tasting the metallic tang.
A rag hit the back of my neck. “I heard that,” Nyana quipped.
Harlan stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with a fist. When Nyana passed, he coughed back his amusement, and I couldn’t help but return his grin.
By the time I finished peeling all the vegetables at the counter, the sun had risen above the domed opening in the wall.
The morning had been enjoyable, laced with conversations of unimportant things, gossip, and festival preparations.
At one point, Clara’s name came up, and Harlan’s cheeks reddened.
Even at four and ten, my brother flushed at the thought of the young lady he was promised to.
What must it be like to feel for a woman in such a way?
“You should be off, brother,” I noted reluctantly, taking a basket of berries from him.
It was half empty, but Nyana could send one of her girls to pick more from the garden.
The small, round fruit was one of the first things to ripen each year.
Seeing Harlan’s lips stained red propelled me into memories of warm summers spent by the thorny bushes, of eating berries by the handful until my tummy ached.
And into memories of another boy’s smile—different from Harlan’s, yet the same shade of red.
Harlan pouted, and I rested my hand on his shoulder, coming back to the present. “The festival’s tonight. You must go prepare yourself.”
Mention of the festival brought the boy’s easy smile back, and he nodded eagerly. “Alright, Neir.” He hugged my side. I drew my arm around him and ruffled his hair. It was thick and curled, like Kaius’s, like mine was when cut short.
Harlan laughed, and when he broke the embrace, I nudged him on. He took a few steps, then turned back to me, a pensive expression on his soft features. “But you never told me about your wound. I want to know about the thieves.”
“Next time.” How long would that be if I was sent away?
He scrunched his face but made no further objections. “Alright.”
Coming to stand beside me, Nyana too wished Harlan farewell, and the boy set off through the door that led out to the path and castle grounds.
He had a short attention span, and I wondered if he would get distracted again before making his roundabout way to the upper levels and his chambers.
There, a nervous maid was surely pacing, ready to tame his hair and anxious of reprimands should the boy not be made presentable in time.
“Was I ever that easy-going as a child?” I asked Nyana. Thoughts of the berry brambles returned, a faint glimpse of a memory, impossible to fully grasp, yet I could almost taste the tart sweetness of the berries, recall the pop when I bit into one, could almost hear the birdsong of early spring.
Nyana rested a hand on my arm. “Only when you were very young.” Her somber tone hinted at the words that lay unsaid. Before Thatch’s death.
The depth in her eyes dispelled the warmth of my memories, replacing them with a sobering recollection of that day.
“Is there anything else I can help with?” I asked, clearing my throat.
Nyana’s hand dropped, and she straightened her apron. “No.” Her voice faltered. “The girls and I can manage the rest. I suspect you need to be off.”
It was true. It would be midday soon, and I still needed to return to my quarters to change into my guard’s uniform and retrieve my sword.
Rion was expecting me, and I didn’t feel like facing his dour expression at yet another late arrival after last night’s incident with the thieves.
It was imperative that I return to his good graces in order to persuade him to send another to Valio in my place.
“Are you certain?”
Nyana drew a forced smile, gesturing to the other side of the kitchen where the doe-eyed girl from before made a faint squeal at the attention and dropped a metal ladle. It skittered across the floor, leaving a trace across the stone of whatever soup she’d been getting ready to dip into bowls.
“You distract my girls,” Nyana pointed out.
I laughed, then immediately stifled it when the girl’s cheeks flushed.
She knelt to wipe the floor. A second girl, one of my own age, joined her and whispered in her ear, then looked up at me with hooded blue eyes.
Age and possibly experience lent her boldness, and when she met my gaze, she nipped playfully at her bottom lip—an invitation.
I let out a breath and turned my attention back to Nyana. “Alright.” I drew her into a hug. “I see you have a point.”
She reached between us and cupped my cheek in her palm, her eyes sad again. My heart ached. When she looked at me like that, I couldn’t help but wonder if she thought of her son.
Nyana never spoke about Thatcher, not anymore. The rippling sensation beneath my skin tensed my muscles, and I fought to level my emotions and push thoughts of the boy aside.
“Go now,” Nyana said, dropping her hand and gesturing with a tip of her head.
I nodded, then pulled her back into my arms once more. Because I was selfish. Because even when her pain and the guilt of my own doings that burdened me, I still sought comfort in her embrace. “I’ll return to see you before I leave again,” I promised.
“You’re to leave again?”
“There’s word there may be another assignment for me.” I simplified the truth, irritated with myself for letting my worries slip out. “We can speak of it later.”
She pulled back, forced a smile, and patted my chest, avoiding the bandaged area where my wound was still tender. “Okay, be sure that you do, then.”
A weight sank in my belly like a stone dropped into a riverbed. I couldn’t leave; my place was here, where I could keep sentry over my brother, protect him from any outside threat. And to do so, I had to remain in the capital.