I blanched, all thoughts of sexy time forgotten. “Ferdinand?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “No, sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I haven’t heard anything about Ferdinand.”
I left the door open, retrieved my com, and shut off the silencer. Once the com connected to the network, it rang with an emergency message from Benedict.
“Is Benedict okay?” I asked while the message loaded.
“Yes,” Ian said, but there was the slightest hesitation in his voice.
The message from Benedict was short and blunt: Father is sending me to NAD Seven to oversee building a forward base. I know you’ll blame yourself, but don’t. We all knew it was only a matter of time. I wanted to you to hear it from me first; I’ll post on the group channel tomorrow. I leave in three days. I will message you when I can. I hope you find Ferdinand.
Fury boiled through me and I clenched my fists to prevent myself from doing something cathartic but unwise. Nu Antliae Dwarf Seven was the sole von Hasenberg planet in the disputed Antlia sector. Father was sending Benedict to the front lines of the war with House Rockhurst.
I closed my eyes against the furious, helpless tears that threatened and inhaled deeply through my nose. Benedict would be fine. He would. He knew how to take care of himself, and he had a battle cruiser full of von Hasenberg soldiers who were fanatically loyal to him. As much as Father wanted to punish me, he wouldn’t risk Benedict’s ship unnecessarily. He would send a battle fleet with him.
It was a pretty lie, but the front lines were lethal, and a House son was a very tempting target, battle fleet or no. Nothing broke morale faster than killing off a leader. I’d already missed so many years thanks to Gregory, and now Benedict might be lost to me forever.
A sob lodged in my throat at the thought of never seeing my twin again.
Benedict and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but we always had each other’s backs. Father had tried to break our twin bond when we were young. He had failed, in part thanks to Ferdinand’s subtle interference.
And now I missed both of my brothers. Grief cut like a knife, slicing through my armor to pierce my heart. I tried to hold myself together, but the heartbreak was too big, the anguish too strong.
My brother, my twin, could die and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it except stand here and try not to bawl like a child.
“Are you okay?” Ian asked again.
“No,” I said because I’d promised him honesty. And because he’d known the news would upset me and he’d come to check on me. Warmth sparked, a tiny flame in a sea of sorrow.
“Can I do anything?”
I barked out a bitter, watery laugh. “Do you know how to stop a war between High Houses?”
“No,” he said after a short pause.
“Then there’s nothing you can do.” I sighed. I felt like I’d aged five years in the last five minutes. “I knew one of us was going to have to go, and Benedict makes the most sense tactically, now that Father banished Ada. I’m just glad it’s not Catarina, though she’s probably next on the list.”
We were all on the list when it came down to it. Ferdinand was the safest, as the heir, and while he was missing, Hannah would be relatively safe, despite her resolve not to inherit the role. But Father would fling the rest of us at the front until we won or no one was left to send.
I sent Benedict a quick reply, letting him know that I expected him to stay in one piece. There was so much more that I wanted to say, so many things we needed to talk about, but I sent him only the most important: I love you, baby brother.
The fragile grip I had on my emotions wavered. My breath hitched. I was approximately thirty seconds from a meltdown. “Thank you for letting me know,” I said to Ian. I backed into the room and gripped the door.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
I desperately wanted to ask him to come in, to find comfort in touch, but our relationship wasn’t like that and I still had to work with him in the morning. It would cause more problems than it would solve, so I shook my head and gently closed the door.