Looking back, I understand why some of the choices I made were the wrong ones for the moment. I could go on about what I would do differently in hindsight, but I doubt that would really change anything. You, of all people, know how I get when I fixate on something I want to learn. This was, perhaps, the first time where the knowledge itself was a burden.
If anything, I regret the severity of the steps I took to discover it. I was unsubtle, and at times, unkind. I wish I could have realized what I was doing and how it was going to affect the people around me.
And to think Brex had been so excited for his private tutoring.
He was eager to learn from a court-appointed sorcerer. One of the best in all of Sangara. A huge city with nearly as much sorcery implemented in its public utilities as Harramschall. Sure, they didn’t have a university in the city, or even nearby, but it was just a single voyage across the sea to Harramschall itself. He’d spoken Vermilla a few times and she spoke of the frequent shipments of sorcerous materials to Sangara.
So, surely, this had to be some kind of joke.
Okeer, his tutor, was a middle-aged felarin wearing a ragged uniform, like those he’d seen worn by sorcerers in Harramschall. His mane wasn’t as finely cut as his peers in Castle Carmine. He looked like a man who’d been frazzled for so long that he had simply embraced the madness.
He’d brought a stack of books to Brex’s chambers, sitting across the table with him, the light from the window pouring over the whole display.
But Brex knew something was off when he pulled out A Beginner’s Guide to Understanding Sorcery, Volume 1. And he was confident that there was a severe misunderstanding when Okeer began explaining the relationship between a catalyst and the sorcerer wearing it.
Brex lifted his hand.
“Thank you, but maybe there are some lessons we can skip,” Brex said. “Did they tell you I’ve already learned a decent amount of sorcery already?”
He looked taken aback. “Oh! You have?”
Brex nodded. “Yeah, I’ve spent a lot of time reading up about it, making my own spells, using them in a variety of situations…” He put his hand on Volume 1. “I’ve read this thing cover to cover, more than a few times.”
“Ah,” Okeer said. “Well, perhaps you can tell me more about what you’ve accomplished so far?”
“I’ve had to learn a few things the hard way,” Brex said. “I mean, just ask Alizarin what happened when I tried to use a wooden floor to change the spell on the catalyst attached to his back.”
Okeer gasped. “Attached to his body? And you didn’t use the proper Loquela lumber for altering a spell that’s unremovable?” He leaned back in his chair. “Master Brexothuruk, I do believe that such a dangerous leap in logic means we should ensure that you have the proper foundation that we can build upon. These are not mistakes that any sorcerer should be making.”
That doesn’t change the fact that I’ve already learned from those mistakes, Brex thought.
“Still,” Brex said. “I’m fully aware of the basics now. Maybe we could start with something a little more advanced? How about Volume 2? I’ve only read that once.”
“Master Brexothuruk, your words remind me of an old business partner of mine. A man who hated doing things the right way, always complaining about proper procedure. He wanted to use sorcery to make our services more efficient, but in practice it only cut corners and lowered the quality of our goods. No, I must insist that we go through each lesson to make sure you have the knowledge necessary to safely design, attach, and use your spells.”
Brex sighed. Okeer wouldn’t be so easily talked out of this, but at least Brex could blame it on this old business partner.
“Please, Sir Okeer,” Brex said. “Isn’t there something we can do that doesn’t involve weeks of lessons with material I already know? How about an assessment? Test me on anything in this whole book. I know it!” Brex put his hand on Volume 1 again, as if he were about to swear an oath in court.
Okeer brought his hand to his chin, stroking as he peered through his perfectly circular lenses. “I will need a bit more time to prepare something like a placement exam. But I find this agreeable, Master Brexothuruk.”
Brex heaved a sigh in relief as Okeer packed up his things. And while Okeer was bending over to pick up a pen that had slid off the floor, he pulled a random tome off the table and hid it in his lap, away from Okeer’s eyes.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you next when I have that placement test ready,” Okeer said, locking the clasp on his bag. “I have a good feeling about your natural talent for sorcery. You’ll be doing great things someday, Master Brexothuruk.” He offered out his hand, which Brex gripped, standing up to wish him farewell while sliding that hidden book onto the same chair. It was the finest display of sleight of hand in his life, and he almost wished Alizarin were there to see it.
Brex walked him to the door and wished Okeer farewell, but those words stuck with him.
You’ll be doing great things someday, Master Brexothuruk.
He knew he shouldn’t latch on to someone’s words like that, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Someday, he’d be doing great things. Not soon, not tomorrow, not today. Someday. Nobody expected or even considered that he could do great things now. Even if he did bring Prince Alizarin back home. Even if he used sorcery to do it.
He looked out the window again, down at Sangara. The city he could always watch from on high. Maybe he’d visit the markets with Alizarin soon.
The Prince had disappeared in the morning, giving Brex a kiss on the forehead just as he was waking up. He promised to return for dinner together. But that meant Brex would be alone with his tutor all day.
Until Brex dismissed Okeer. Now he’d just be alone all day.
He turned toward the book he’d smuggled away from Okeer, finally scanning the cover. Sorcery for Improved Communication and Personal Growth. The title was accompanied by a stencil of a female felarin holding some kind of trinket in her hand—smiling broadly at her newfound success.
Ugh.
He flipped through the contents, which were oddly mercantile. Why improving communication meant increased sales and productivity. Why the reader should consider using sorcery to enhance their work. And at least a third of the book was devoted to spells for understanding yourself. Creating mirrored surfaces that reflected only certain kinds of images, hearing the sound of your own voice as if it were from another person, even some pretty advanced spells centered around altering dreams.
But there was one that made Brex stop in his tracks.
“People rarely consider sorcery a helpful tool for confronting old relationships,” it said. “But this spell is perfect for understanding how you relate to the people around you. Use these glyphs on your enchanting plate to design a catalyst that will create an illusory version of a person in your life.
“A word to the wise: Do not use this spell to consult the opinions of any persons who have passed away. These illusions are based on your personal memories of the individual. You will not be able to discover any information you don’t already know. This spell is meant to help you unearth and discover what you have been hiding from yourself. We recommend practicing this spell with an expert sorcerer first, then trying it–”
Brex had already been struck by inspiration, rushing over to his bag and digging out his enchanting plate. It would take a while, but it’d be worth it.
Brex’s spirits lifted the moment his knife etched the final connecting line in the glyph. A gentle flash of light flowed through the enchanting plate, swirling around and centering on the silver ring he’d placed in the middle.
He took a deep breath, looking out the window. It was late afternoon and he’d spent a good portion of the day already just reading and carving. But he couldn’t stop now.
With a sigh, he put the ring around his finger and silently prayed to the Ancestors for this to work, keeping his eyes shut.
A moment passed. The wind howled as it scraped against Castle Carmine’s towers.
“Brex?”
He opened his eyes.
Tiyash stood at the window, framed by sunlight, wearing the same clothes as the day Brex left Clan Ironheart.
He jumped to his feet. “Tiyash!” He shouted, launching toward her for a hug.
“Brex, no, wait–”
But it was too late, Brex crashed right through Tiyash and tumbled to the floor, knocking over a wooden chair and scraping his elbows.
Tiyash bent down, arms on her knees. “I’d offer to help you up, but I can’t touch you. Or anyone.”
Brex grumbled, sitting himself up and wincing away the pain. “It’s fine. I was just excited.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. Its warmth helped Brex collect himself, though he didn’t bother to get up quite yet. “How are things?”
“Tiyash, you wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through since I left the clan.”
She glanced out the window at Sangara’s bustling streets below. “I can’t even recognize this place. Where are you right now?”
And for once, Brex got the chance to tell his story.
“You’re kidding,” Tiyash said. “The Bloodmane was a prince? We had a prince roaming the savannah the whole time?”
Brex nodded, sipping from a mug of tea. He’d called for a servant to bring two for himself, but he wanted to believe Tiyash would appreciate the gesture, even if Brex was the only one who could see and hear her. “Imagine learning that when you’re on trial for a murder that you did technically commit.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” Tiyash said. “I feel pretty justified being worried about what you’d do on your own. You’ve gotten into a lot of trouble since then.”
“I can’t help it if trouble follows me.”
“But you mentioned that he was kidnapped, right? Right here in Castle Carmine, just a few years ago.”
Brex nodded. “That’s what he said. And a couple of the attendants and family members mentioned it.”
“And you’re not worried about this kidnapper striking again? Especially since there’s the whole matter of succession.”
“That’s what I said to him!” Brex groaned. “He thinks it’s too dangerous for them to try anything again, but that’s not good enough for me. I’m glad you think so, Tiyash. Finally, someone agrees with me.”
“You’re agreeing with yourself here, Brex,” she said. “I’m just a version of myself built from your memories, remember?”
Brex crossed his arms. “Well, yeah. But you wouldn’t know that, you didn’t read the book yet. I haven’t even read the book yet.”
“Yes but you know this is what I’d say if I had read it.”
He rubbed his head. “All right, fine, yes. I know I’m just agreeing with myself.”
Tiyash smirked, and even if it was just something Brex expected her to do, it did feel like she was really there with him. And in that moment, that was what he really needed.
“I miss you, Tiyash. I miss having someone to talk to about all this.”
“I miss you too. I’ve been writing letters, but I don’t know if they’ll reach you. I could be waiting for you to let me know where you can even receive messages.”
“Yeah, you might,“ Brex chuckled. “You know, it used to be like this with Red. He used to listen to me, before everything in Goronich happened. Back when it was just the two of us on the run from Karna.”
“You don’t talk with Alizarin much?”
“No, I do. But he’s the one explaining things to me now. Everything is so unfamiliar here, and I’ve never even left Castle Carmine.”
“Why not?”
“I guess because I don’t want Alizarin to worry about me. But I do want to go out and explore, even if it’s not with him.”
“You know what’s a great reason to explore the castle and the city?”
“What’s that?” Brex asked.
“Digging up information on this kidnapper,” Tiyash said.
Brex deflated a little. “I don’t know. I really want the family to like me and I’m not sure that I’ve left a positive impression yet.”
“Brex, what do you think is really more important?” Tiyash said, lifting her head up proudly. “That these people like you or that you find the truth about what happened to Alizarin?”
“Maybe if they weren’t the literal King and Queen of the city—a-and the building where I currently live. Maybe if they weren’t Alizarin’s parents and siblings and—”
“Brex.”
He sighed. “Yeah?”
“You and I both know you’re not going to let this go.”
“So what are you saying?”
“You’re in Castle Carmine already. You have access to the resources of the royal family through Alizarin. You’re close enough that you could talk to the people who were there that night. You can find out what happened. You’re going to find out what happened.”
Brex took another sip of tea. “You’re hard to argue with, Tiyash.”
“We both are, Brex.”
He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But where do we even start?”
She grinned. “Give yourself a little credit, Brex. You’ll find a way.” Tiyash paused, placing her hands in her lap. He was starting to feel a little fatigued. The spell keeping this illusion of Tiyash around was eating up the Resource in his body over time. He couldn’t keep it up forever.
And when he knew, she knew as well. “Brex,” she said with an air of finality to the conversation. “Write to me. Please. I’d really like to know this whole story for myself. Not just hypothetically.”
“I will,” Brex nodded. “I promise.”
She pressed her fist to her chest and beat it once lightly.
Brex returned the gesture, then pulled his ring off his finger, watching her fade into nothing.
And there he was, alone again in Castle Carmine’s towers.
After spending the rest of the afternoon reading his borrowed book, Brex heard another knock at the door. Or more of a thunderous thud at the door that shook it on its hinges.
He opened it to find Alizarin balancing four silver trays on his arms, having just kicked the door to get Brex to open it.
“Can’t promise a feast every night, but I thought you’d appreciate some dinner together.”
Brex smiled and cleared the way, helping Alizarin set up the table in their chambers for a private dinner. It wasn’t quite so lavish as the previous night, but it was a delicious turkey breast slathered in some kind of gravy that reminded him of the stews he used to cook with his family.
“So, how was your first private sorcery lesson?” Alizarin asked.
Brex snorted some gravy and recovered by clearing his throat. “It was uh, not quite what I expected.”
Alizarin paused mid-bite. “Oh?”
“He wanted to start me from the basics, which I already know.”
“Did you tell him that you were able to get me all sorted out with sorcery? With some ingenuity and a few trans-oceanic ticket fares?”
Brex nodded. “He said that my mistakes were the reason we should start back from lesson one.”
Alizarin rumbled with displeasure.
“It’s fine,” Brex said. “I asked him to give me a test and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“Good, I don’t want you to be languishing up here, unenriched and unenlightened.”
Brex set his fork down, the metal clanging against the silver tray that held his dinner. The tone resonated with him, like a ringing in his ears.
Speaking of languishing up here…No. About that “up here” part…Nah.
“So what have you been doing today?”
Alizarin sighed. “The diplomacy committee insisted that I catch up on every detail since I was last here. Looks like my days will be filled with mind-numbing presentations on recent, uninteresting history.”
“Aren’t you the Prince? Can’t you just…decide not to?”
“I could,” Alizarin said. “But it would come at a cost. Things aren’t as simple as doing as I please. Every little conflict is a battle I have to choose to fight, even something like attending those presentations. I could avoid them, but I’d lose the respect of the diplomats. That used to be something I’d be fine with losing, but that kind of thinking cost me dearly.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’d rather not dwell on the past. Let’s just stay up here and enjoy our time together.”
“Well,” Brex said, finding the perfect time to pivot. “We don’t have to be up here to be together.”
Alizarin shifted in his chair, turning away from Brex’s gaze.
“Oh,” Brex said.
“I’m sorry, Brex. I need more time before I can be seen in public with you. The optics of returning home with an orc, a sorcerer no less…They would make the wrong conclusions about us.”
“So you need me to stay up here,” Brex said. “Until they can make the right conclusions?”
“Until I can better control how we’ll be seen.”
“I see.”
The silence between them pushed them farther apart, inch by inch.
“But I will always be here. Every night. And you can always sleep in my arms.”
Brex couldn’t help but smile at that. “I suppose I’ll be happy with that for a while.”
“We’ll go out to the city together soon,” Alizarin said.
What does ”soon” even mean? Soon to a child and soon to an adult are two different things, Brex thought.
From deep within, Brex heard Kotak’s voice. I would rather see you return as an adult than die as a gor-sha, but even that is better than the pittance you are now.
The pittance I am now.
“Soon,” Brex said, a little more flatly than he intended. “That’ll be nice.”
They cleaned their plates and set them outside the door for a servant to pick up later, changing into their pajamas and curling up in bed together.
“So, uh,” Brex said. “I know you don’t really want me to be seen outside the castle right now, but isn’t there something I could do in the meantime? I don’t want you to be the only person I see every day.”
“What about your tutor?”
Brex tried not to roll his eyes. “He’s…busy.”
Alizarin reluctantly grunted in agreement.
“I wouldn’t mind getting to know your brother and sister a little better.”
Alizarin gave it some thought. “It might be a good start. They do like you. Busy schedules, though.”
“I can work around that. I have plenty of free time,” Brex said with a smile.
Alizarin raked his claws through Brex’s hair, making the orc sink happily into the bedsheets. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. And if there’s anything you’d like to help pass the time, just let me know and I’ll get it for you.”
“I’m fine for now, mmmff,” Brex said, yawning and turning over to hold himself against Alizarin. “Maybe a chalkboard…for the lessons…”
“Very well,” Alizarin said as Brex drifted off to sleep in his grasp.
Three days later, with the weight of his request still pressing down on his shoulders, Brex found himself on pins and needles as he waited in Castle Carmine’s drawing room for his turn to meet with Claret.
His mind was racing, inventing a thousand reasons to stop the whole process, go back to his room, and read until he fell asleep.
But he knew better than to trust that voice by now. It had been helpful when he was in danger, back in Ziquondi and Harramschall, where real physical harm was a possibility. But here, in this huge castle surrounded by people whose descendants were deadly predators—
No. This was a diplomatic space. The worst thing he could do was spill tea on her favorite pillow or say something dreadfully insensitive. He needed to stay calm and guard his emotions, not his body.
The doors to the tearoom opened and a servant held one side open for Brex to walk through, gesturing with a gloved hand inward.
“Princess Claret will see you now,” he said.
Brex nodded, standing up and gripping his blank journal and pen so tight that the pages left an impression in his palm.
“Thank you, sir,” Brex said as he went inside.
The tearoom was clearly Claret’s domain. The space was full of tiny, immaculate details. Fine lace and intricately woven pillows decorating chairs and sofas. The curtains to the enormous window overlooking the docks were covered in the sheerest of patterns on six different rails, presumably to allow for whatever level of sunlight Claret preferred to feel during the day. Resting on a dark, resolute table was the finest tea set that Brex had ever seen, though he had to admit he hadn’t seen many. Tea sets in Clan Ironheart were plain and utilitarian. Sturdy to withstand frequent travel.
Brex was afraid he’d crush any piece of this set just by holding it too hard.
While the tea room was markedly Claret’s domain, she was not alone. Prince Rufus sat on the other end of the sofa from her, ankle resting on his other leg, sprawled out and smirking as they spoke with each other. His confidence never wavered, though. While it was not his domain, he was comfortable in it.
Claret was the first to notice Brex had arrived.
“Brexothuruk, son of Grotuk. So nice of you to join us,” she said, standing and bowing gently. “I understand you wish to speak with me about some personal matter?”
Personal matter? Why did she frame it that way?
Before Brex could answer, Rufus stood up. “I ought to give you two privacy then. Thank you for catching up with me, Claret,” he said, then pulled her into a quick embrace that made her roll her eyes.
“Rufus, please, not in front of our guest,” she said as he let go.
He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Too late for that,” he said with a laugh, then turned and strode away, giving them a final wave as the servant closed the door behind them.
Brex bowed belatedly, trying to reciprocate the etiquette that Claret had just shown them.
“Thank you for being patient with me while I learn all the rules of the Felarin and royalty and, uh, such things,” Brex said. “I’m just hoping that maybe I can learn a little faster by speaking with you directly.”
Claret walked over to the table and placed a finger on the teapot, which started to steam at her touch. Brex immediately concluded that it was another device powered by sorcery, just like the boat that carried him to the water lock when he first arrived.
She poured two small glasses of tea, the gentle clinks of porcelain and silver against each other punctuating her statements. “Brexothuruk, you could learn about proper etiquette from anyone in this castle. Each of our servants is highly trained and diligent in their duties. Any one of them would make an excellent tutor for such things.”
She lifted the tray and brought it over to the small table between the sofas, setting it down gently. Both cups were still steaming hot and no doubt dangerous to sip.
“So let’s dispense with the nonsense, shall we? My brother made it clear that you wanted to speak with me specifically.” She picked up a cup of tea, crossed her legs, and took a sip. “So what do I know that you desperately hope to learn?”
Brex was taken aback, but stifled his reaction. Instead, he simply sat down across from her and put the tip of his pen to a blank page in the journal.
“Oh. I appreciate that you’re being so direct. In that case, ah, I just…” He swallowed back his fear. “When I first met Prince Alizarin, he was a predator on the savannah trying to kill me, and now that he’s home, I just want to better understand how he ended up crossing paths with me.”
“You needn’t be so delicate with me, Brexothuruk.” Somehow, every time she used his full name, it felt pointed, as if to describe how phonetically apart they were. “You want to know how my brother was kidnapped, smuggled, and transformed. I’d very much like to know that as well. If I can help you find out, then I’d consider it a benefit to us both.”
“Y-yes, well. Is there anything you can tell me about what happened on the night he disappeared?”
She turned her gaze toward the massive windows that looked out upon the city. “First, you should know that things weren’t quite so civil and peaceful as they are now. There was growing unease and uncertainty. Our father had taken quite ill at the time and many doubted his ability to recover. With that on all of our minds—not just those of us in the family, mind you, everyone in the castle and most civilians as well—it was difficult to imagine a future where the people respected whoever sat upon the throne. Either our father recovered and we had a fragile, elderly leader. Or he would pass and we had Alizarin.”
“Why would it be so difficult if Alizarin inherited the throne?”
“Why, he would only be our second king, my dear Brexothuruk.”
Brex scrunched up his face. “Sorry, only the second?”
“The United Felarin Pride-Tribes, as a political power, are very young. We don’t love to boast about our age, we simply arrive where important conversations are happening and demand the respect owed to us as a significant population. But we needed some manner of representation. It was only about forty years ago that my father was chosen to represent the monarchy and rule as a king of our people after he and a few other tribal leaders managed to quell our infighting and bring the tribes together.”
“Chosen? I thought monarchs inherited their titles,” Brex said.
“They do, usually,” Claret said after taking another sip. “Certainly in other territories and nations with kings and queens. But we wanted to be greater than a simple primarch of a city-state or the governor of a territory. We needed a leader that could act as a symbol and a commander of our government. So the Felarin chose a king. My father, Crim of the Redmanes. It was the right choice, I think. We needed someone who could demand respect from other nations.”
“Then how does succession work here in the Pride-Tribes?”
“Our parliamentary representatives could never decide on official succession procedures. Every vote failed to gather a majority. There is no written law, only the assumptions of the people.”
“Which is why there was so much unease…”
Claret nodded. “Ideologically speaking, we had run from our problems, and they had finally caught up to us. Because if my father had passed in that time, Alizarin would be expected to take the throne. And few people wanted that, including him.”
“He didn’t want to be king?”
“Alizarin was a different man before you met him, Brexothuruk. He spent his days in the bathhouses and his nights in the brothels, with visits to the tavern in between each. He would often complain that he couldn’t bring a concubine to meetings he was forced to attend for the sake of public knowledge. He wouldn’t read the reports our diplomats and scholars drafted for him, even after demanding that as a solution for not attending the meetings. He was a man who did not understand consequences.”
Brex found himself somewhat shaken. That didn’t match up to the Alizarin he knew. Not even the feral lion he met out in the savannah. But he couldn’t afford to show those feelings in front of Claret. He still needed information.
“So, not the kind of person anyone wanted to lead the nation.”
“That’s right,” Claret said. “This is all to say that on the night he disappeared, there was a certain tension felt by everyone in Castle Carmine. It was a feast in honor of our father’s day of birth. A desperate celebration in hope of life returning to normal in some manner. His illness had not yet progressed so far that he was bedridden, but he struggled to walk, sit, and eat.
“The feast itself had been like many before it. The food and drink weren’t important, but the company was. Everyone in the family had a seat at the table. Myself, Rufus, Alizarin and his evening concubine, our mother and father, with Oswin and Vermilla as well. We were readying to retire for the night when Father requested that he speak with Alizarin alone.
“I can assure you that by making such a statement in front of everyone, he meant for all of us to conclude that this was some kind of last plea for Alizarin to pull himself together and understand his role as a future leader. He insisted that Alizarin dismiss his concubine for the night and he even asked me to prepare drinks for the two of them during the discussion. I went to the kitchen, uncorked a bottle of dessert wine, and brought them two glasses.”
“Why not let a servant take care of that?” Brex asked.
“The discussion was a family matter. None of us wanted to risk a servant hearing something that could leak and spread to civilians if we could help it.”
Brex couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What did you hear when you delivered the drinks?”
“I couldn’t make out the words, but Alizarin was upset. My best guess is that he was perfectly happy as a Prince and didn’t want any more authority than he already had.”
“Why not just abdicate?” Brex asked. “Wouldn’t that make you next in line for succession, even if it’s just how people assumed it must go?”
“It would, and I would have accepted it. But Alizarin was so proud then, as we all were. He didn’t want to publicly decline the role.”
“But he couldn’t—”
Claret nodded. “And now you see why they were arguing. Father wanted him to embrace the reality of the situation, but Alizarin wanted an easy out. He didn’t want to change anything.”
“Did you hear anything else when you dropped off the drinks?”
She shook her head. “Nothing worth recalling. They thanked me and waited until I had left the room to continue. I was feeling particularly fatigued, so after that I retired to my room and went to sleep.
“Later that night, I awoke to servants sounding the alarm. Rufus had scrambled the guards after an intruder had been spotted. I first went to Mother and Father’s room, finding them awake in their chambers. But when I went to check on Alizarin, his bed was empty. He was nowhere to be found.”
“I see.” Brex made a note of the details she shared. “What happened after that?”
“Father ordered half the castle militia to search Sangara for him and the majority of our scholars to search travel records for anyone matching his description.”
“Did they turn up anything useful?”
“Tragically, no. As the days went by, we speculated what could have happened. Rufus thought that he simply ran away at the idea of being confronted with such power. My mother didn’t believe that, though. She thought he was still hiding in the city, clinging to his pleasures and using his position as a prince to pull strings. Father’s conditioned worsened and people began to suspect me as being responsible for Alizarin’s disappearance in order to take power.
“So I abdicated. I surrendered any right I had to take the throne to my brother Rufus and swore myself as an advisor to the crown until Alizarin returned, which would keep me well away from any succession conspiracies. There are still people who think I orchestrated the whole thing. But they went quiet after Father’s condition improved and he recovered from the illness. As the months went on, we began to mourn Alizarin’s presence and grow comfortable with his absence.”
“Who thinks you were responsible for this? Anyone in the castle?” Brex asked.
“A few, but I won’t name names. They’ve been silent long enough, and if they fear me as a result, I can use that.”
Brex shuddered, forgetting to write any notes, but knowing he would remember these details regardless.
“So imagine my surprise when my long lost brother arrives on a ship from Goronich with an orcish sorcerer, bright and cheerful after spending so much time away. What an amazing story, too. You have certainly been through a lot,” Claret said, setting her teacup down on its saucer.
“We have, yes,” Brex said, finding himself unwilling to tell his own version of the story.
“I suppose that’s as much as I can recall for now. If I think of anything else to note, I will send for you.”
“Thank you, your highness,” Brex said.
“May I ask a question of you, Brexothuruk? I think it would only be fair after sharing so much with you.”
Brex felt another shiver slide through his body. “I, ah, sure, yes.”
“Do you love my brother?”
Brex tried not to choke on her bluntness. “Ah, love in what way?”
“In any way. In all ways, if you feel them.”
“I…guess I must. We’ve been through a lot, we’re very close, I certainly wouldn’t mind if we were able to stay together for many years.”
She smirked. “You wouldn’t mind? That’s not quite the conviction I was expecting. You see, there have been plenty of suitors, both men and women, who have confessed their love for Alizarin. But in time, they would fade from his life. Do you expect to last much longer?”
Brex didn’t want to entertain any more of these questions. She was trying to get in his head—and she was succeeding.
“Frankly, Princess Claret, I have no idea what to expect after everything I’ve been through. Thank you for sharing what you know about the night Alizarin disappeared. I should be going.”
“Very well, you are excused,” she said, turning her attention back to the window.
Brex awkwardly stood up and made for the door, glancing back at Claret with his hand on the doorknob. She was still looking out the window, but her tail barely swished, low to the ground, as if she were ready to pounce.
Orcanist 