They made Warrehn’s chest tight every time, those eyes. They were just like their mother’s. Eridan looked a lot like her in general, inheriting her grace and refined features. Looking back, Warrehn now knew that was why he’d been uncharacteristically soft with the kid back at the safe house: he’d reminded him of his mother. He hadn’t connected it with his brother at the time: he’d come to accept that his brother was dead, and in his mind, little Eri would always look like a chubby-cheeked kid.
Well, he was no longer the chubby-cheeked kid, but an uncommonly beautiful young man—something Warrehn was reminded of every time unbonded Calluvians and foreigners all but drooled looking at his brother.
“Eri?” Warrehn said. “Did you want something?”
“Yes,” Eridan said. “I want you to stop hiding here and actually mingle with people. If you keep avoiding socializing, people will never get used to you.”
Warrehn grimaced. “I hate socializing.”
Eridan rolled his eyes with a crooked little smile. “You hate a lot of things. But you’ll have to suck it up and do it. Come on, it won’t kill you. Lord Tai’Lehr, please tell him I’m right.”
“You’re right,” Rohan said with an amused look.
“Traitor,” Warrehn muttered.
“Don’t be such a grouch,” Eridan said. “If I didn’t know that you aren’t even thirty yet, I’d never believe it. You are like a grumpy old man.”
Warrehn sighed, running a hand over his face. “Eridan—”
“Shut up and come with me. If I have to suffer through this, so do you.”
Frowning, Warrehn followed him back into the ballroom. “You don’t actually enjoy this?” Although he had suspected it, he wasn’t exactly happy to have his suspicions confirmed.
Eridan snorted softly. “I didn’t have a single friend in the Order, Warrehn. Most of my peers resented me. So no, socializing doesn’t come easily to me. I’m just much better at faking it than you are.”
That wasn’t reassuring at all.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Warrehn said.
“Someone has to,” Eridan said with a bright smile that made something in Warrehn’s chest twist. “Dalatteya and her son have everyone’s sympathy on their side and they’re more than willing to play politics even if you don’t. Master always says—” He cut himself off and cleared his throat a little. “Anyway, if we aren’t careful, we are going to be kicked out of our own palace.”
Warrehn’s lips thinned. It had been months, but Eridan still called Idhron Master. The word grated on Warrehn’s nerves. He couldn’t help but associate it with slavery and servitude. He understood that it wasn’t the case, but it still rubbed him the wrong way.
Not to mention that the way Eridan said the word made him uneasy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he didn’t like it.
At least things weren’t as bad as they had been months ago, when all Eridan said was Master this and Master that. Now the word appeared less frequently, but Warrehn couldn’t help but notice that his brother became more closed off as the word gradually dropped out of his vocabulary.
Eridan shook his head a little. “She likely knows the fondness she feels for me is artificial. Even if she hasn’t realized it herself, her son has likely told her about it. No one likes having their mind controlled. A strong-minded person can fight it, to a degree. I’m sure she’s looking for a way to get rid of it. Anyway, that’s beside the point: I can’t let those snakes take your rightful throne.”
Feeling a rush of affection, Warrehn cleared his throat a little and looked around the busy ballroom, searching for a change of subject. He’d never been good at talking about emotions—or feeling them.
“Who did you want me to socialize with?” he said.
“Why don’t you start with Queen Tamirs?”
Warrehn grimaced but gave a reluctant nod. It was unfair that Eridan was forcing himself to do all these things for his sake. He needed to start pulling his weight.
Eridan smiled, his smile not quite as bright as it had been before, but a great deal more genuine. “Great,” he said. “I’ll go mingle, too. If you need rescuing, just give me a telepathic nudge.”
Warrehn watched him go, feeling like the most terrible big brother in the world. Eridan shouldn’t need to watch out for him or rescue him from politicians and socialites. He was just a kid in his early twenties, and one who hadn’t