past ten years as leahdyre have been challenging, but we've made good progress, and I know that my successor will take the reins with a firm hand. With the king's recent ascension, it is even more paramount that our concerns be marshaled and brought forward with appropriate care. Through the Council's continuing work, we shall see our vision carried outward to the race... without regard to meritless dissention from those who do not understand the issues as fully as we do..."
There was resounding approval at this point, followed by a toast to Lash's father. Then Qhuinn's dad had cleared his throat and glanced at the three people behind him. In a slightly hoarse voice, he'd said, "It has been an honor to serve the glymera... and though I will miss my station, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that having more time for my family pleases me to no end. Verily, they are the seat of my life, and I must needs thank them for the lightness and warmth they bring unto my heart each day."
Qhuinn's mother had blown a kiss and blinked rapidly. His brother had gone all robin-breasted-proud, with hero worship filling his eyes. His sister had clapped and jumped up and down, her ringlets bouncing with joy.
In that moment, the rejection of him as a son and a brother and a family member had been so complete that no words spoken to him or about him could have added to his cringing sadness.
Qhuinn came out of the memories when his father's knock landed sharply on his door, the rap of the knuckles breaking the past's hold, snapping the scene free from his mind.
He hit send on the text, put the phone in the pocket of his shirt, and said, "Come in."
It wasn't his father who opened the door.
It was a doggen, the same butler who had told him he wasn't to go to the glymera's ball this year.
When the servant bowed, it wasn't intended as a gesture of specific respect, and Qhuinn didn't take it that way. Doggen bowed to everyone. Hell, if they interrupted a raccoon raiding the garbage, their first move before getting into all the shooing would be the old bend-at-the-waist routine.
"Guess I'm leaving," Qhuinn said as the butler quickly ran through the hand motions to ward off the evil eye.
"With all due respect," the doggen said, with his forehead still pointed to his feet, "your father has requested your departure from the premises."
"Cool." Qhuinn stood up with the duffel bag into which he'd packed his collection of T-shirts and his four pairs of jeans.
As he slung the strap on his shoulder, he wondered how long his cell phone service would be paid for. He'd been waiting for it to get cut off for the past couple months - ever since his allowance had suddenly disappeared.
He had a feeling T-Mobile, like him, was SOL.
"Your father asked that I should give you this." The doggen didn't straighten as he extended his hand and held out a thick, business-sized envelope.
The urge to tell the servant to take the damn thing and airmail it up his father's ass was close to irresistible.
Qhuinn took the envelope and opened it. After looking at the papers, he calmly folded them up and put them back inside. Stuffing the thing into the back of his waistband, he said, "I'll just go wait for my ride."
The doggen lifted himself up. "At the end of the drive, if you would."
"Yeah. Sure. Fine." Whatever. "You need blood from me, don't you."
"If you would be so kind." The doggen held out a brass goblet, the belly of which was lined in black glass.
Qhuinn used his Swiss Army knife, because his hunting one had been confiscated. Streaking the blade across his palm, he made a fist to squeeze some red drops out into the cup.
They were going to burn the stuff when he was out of the house as part of a cleansing ritual.
They weren't just jettisoning the defective; they were getting rid of the evil.
Qhuinn left his room without looking back and headed down the hall. He didn't say good-bye to his sister, even though he heard her practicing her flute, and he left his brother alone to continue reciting Latin verses. He didn't stop by his mother's drawing room when he heard her talking on the phone, either. And he sure as fuck kept going right by his father's study.
They were all in on his evac. The proof was in the