Synnr's Hope - Kate Rudolph Page 0,8

but he’d never asked. It wouldn’t change anything. He doubted Oz did, but he didn’t like to highlight the differences between himself and his best friend. Eventually he feared that Oz would get tired of all the braz that Solan put up with and would end their friendship. But he hadn’t yet, and it had been more than a decade. Maybe Solan feared for nothing.

The clouds were full in the sky as he walked down the gravel path and over the hill to the main estate. The hill was artificial, built to improve the privacy of Solan’s house by some ancestor a few generations ago. Though Aorsa had become the sole home of the Synnrs only a few decades before, many Synnr families had been living there for more than a century, his included.

His calves burned and he cursed that unknown ancestor. A hedge would have provided just as much privacy as a hill, and he wouldn’t have started to sweat by the time he was at the top. He let his wings unfurl and beat them, propelling himself forward with great gusts of wind.

He couldn’t fly, Zulir wings didn’t work that way, but he had his own tricks.

By the time he made it to the main house, most of the sweat was gone, and he hid his wings away. He didn’t like to leave them on display.

His mother did.

It could be seen as a sign of aggression to flash wings out at a random stranger, but leaving them unfurled was a different matter. And Lureyne Zadra had beautiful wings.

They were the first thing anyone noticed about her. At first they looked pure white, something so rare that Solan had only seen it one other time. But they were actually full of pastel strands in lavenders and blues and pinks that gave off a pearlescent glow.

She wore a bright white dress to make the wings look even brighter, and her dark hair provided a stark contrast. His mother believed strongly in the power of appearance, and from the way her eyes flicked up and down when he entered the room, she found his less than ideal.

He wore dark pants, a black top, and a stylish long jacket. It was nothing special, but no one could complain about the appropriateness. No one except his mother.

She said nothing, though, letting her silent judgement sit there. Solan had long ago learned how to ignore that, so he did.

They sat in the small dining room and a servant brought in trays of food and a bottle of sparkling juice. The meal began with pleasantries, as if he hadn’t seen his mother nearly every day for the past month. And, as always, it soon turned to family events.

“Were you able to file your brother’s marriage papers?” she asked.

Solan sipped his soup before replying. “Of course. All will be ready in plenty of time.”

“And your sister’s Match papers? The announcement?”

“Yes, mother.” She had to have known he’d done it; he’d forwarded the electronic confirmations to her. But she liked to remind him of who was really in control.

Would he be playing these games with his heir in thirty years? He hoped not.

“I say we should file the marriage paperwork for your sister. With the way things are going, they’ll want to wed before the year is out.” His mother wore a satisfied smile. Micia was the first Zadra in his generation to find her Match, but she insisted that there was nothing beyond friendship between herself and her partner, Keni, a young woman from another aristocratic family.

The Match was so perfect that Solan almost didn’t believe it. Keni’s family perfectly complemented the Zadras, though they weren’t quite as socially powerful. Even better, Keni was directly related to the Queen, though her place in the line of succession guaranteed she’d never sit on the throne. There was no question of divided loyalty between Synnrs and Apsyns, as sometimes happened among the nobility, and she seemed like a genuinely decent person.

Solan agreed his sister would fall for her Match in no time, but he wasn’t about to force things.

“Ortid’s wedding is more than enough excitement,” he said. Normally a bonding ceremony and a wedding wouldn’t happen in a single family in one season, but with war on the way, his mother wanted these things settled.

“We still have time for three weddings this year.” She looked at him over the rim of her glass, a small smile on her lips.

This was the part of his daily meals he hated