guess who's back!

.

.

.

"Fitz!" Silas called as his cousin finally disembarked from his carriage. "Over here!"

Fitz didn't turn, but held up a finger to tell him to wait. Anliu sighed as they watched him try to say something to one of the girls, who was decked in glittering jewelry that sparkled against her dark skin. She looked perplexed as he subtly struck a pose, clearly trying to chat her up in his own Fitz-y way.

"You think he's saying something stupid?" Silas wondered.

"It's Fitz. Have you met him?" Anliu replied as he crossed his arms. "When is he not?"

"Aw, cut him a little slack," Madi said, leaning against the wall nearby. "You never know with Fitz, maybe he'll—,"

He cut off to watch as the girl made a skeptical face and then neatly skirted around Fitz to join the other girls, leaving him to stare at her retreating back with a lovestruck expression.

"Or not," Anliu remarked, only kind of smug.

"Swing and a miss," Silas added, grinning as Fitz turned to join them, shoulders slumped. "Hey loverboy, how's it looking out there?"

"Life is hard for sensitive souls like me," Fitz lamented, a hand over his heart as he approached. "I can't help that I wear my heart on my sleeve."

Silas waited for him to get in range before sending a neat kick to catch Fitz across the ass. He stumbled forward but recovered before he ate concrete, glaring up at Silas.

"Ouch, what was that for?" Fitz complained, rubbing the point of contact.

"That was for forgetting whose Selection this is," Silas teased.

"Oh, knock it off, Si," he huffed. "You don't even want this Selection. The least you can do is let a poor romantic like me enjoy your punishment."

"Fitz, you've truly got a one-track mind," Madi said fondly. "Shall we head in?"

"Wait until they're done with their orientation prep stuff," Silas said, watching Stelle's secretary explaining something or another on the stairs. "When they leave for the tour, we can split off and head up to my room."

"I suppose you're going to want to talk about them," Anliu guessed, glancing back at Silas. "The girls?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but not here. Let's wait until we're in private."

"I must say, you got quite an interesting bunch here," Madi commented, stroking his beard. "My carriage ride was quite eventful."

"Mine too," Silas agreed. "I haven't had a chance to look through them, but I have the files on all of them in my room."

"Well, that's perfect, then," Fitz said, clapping his hands together. "I've a bottle of sweetwater in my room, so this sounds like a party! And you can all hear about my one true love."

"We're getting day-drunk in the palace?" Anliu asked, brow wrinkling. "Isn't that a little much?"

"Would you prefer to get day-drunk in the courtyard?" Fitz chortled.

"Two drink maximum," Madi said firmly. "We still have to be functional for the rest of the day."

"Three drink max," Fitz tried to argue.

Madi looked over, eyebrows raised in question. "Si?"

He hesitated. "I'm gonna say two drinks. Madi's right, who knows what else Stelle has planned for us."

"Okay, so what I'm hearing is that you all have a two-drink max, and I'll drink 'til I feel it!" Fitz said cheerfully, clapping them on the backs. "'Cause let's be real, two drinks is not gonna do it. C'mon, looks like they're finishing up, so let's get moving!"

Without giving them a chance to argue, he linked arms with Silas and Madi and led them fearlessly forward. Anliu let out a surprised grunt as Madi caught his arm, making sure he wouldn't be left behind as Fitz dragged them towards the palace.

Silas pulled free from his cousin as they approached the main doors, shaking him off with a grin as the guards allowed them to pass through, before shutting them behind him. The orientation groups split off into the grand hall, led by his sister's secretary and the head of staff, while the four of them took the hallway that led to the staircase.

"So," Silas said as they approached the stairs. "I want to know what you all think of my Selected. In general, what was the impression you got?"

"Ignoring the outlier who tried to stab another contestant, or…?" Fitz asked with a cheeky grin, earning a sharp elbow from Anliu.

"She apologized," he said with a slight glare. "It wasn't on purpose."

"Be serious," Silas told them firmly. Fitz waved him off with an assenting grin.

"It's a mixed bag," Madi said thoughtfully, after a moment to consider. "I liked some of the girls, but not all of them."

"I think I had a similar experience," Silas agreed, as they came upon the door to his room. "Fitz, are you going to grab the sweetwater?"

"Yep, give me one second." He jogged off in the direction of his room, while Silas touched the knob to feel the glass lock pins align to unlock the door. He, Madi and Anliu filed in, and Silas left the door slightly ajar so Fitz could get in when he came back.

While they waited, he loosened his tie and took his blazer off to roll up his sleeves. Madi had also ditched his jacket on Silas's desk chair and made himself at home on the bed; Anliu lingered for a moment at the door to take off his shoes and then padded inside to settle primly on the chaise longue under the window.

"Alrighty, who's ready to talk some shit!" Fitz announced grandly as he strode in with a hefty green bottle and a few glasses. Silas knew for a fact that he traveled with those glasses everywhere, in case he ever needed to start an impromptu drinking session. "Gather round, boys, let's have a toast."

"What are we drinking to?" Silas inquired wryly, coming to sit cross-legged on the floor as Fitz poured a generous amount of alcohol for everyone.

"Your Selection, what else?" his cousin answered with a grin as they all picked up their glasses. Fitz cleared his throat and raised his glass. "To Silas's inevitable romantic disasters!"

"To Silas's inevitable romantic disasters!" Madi and Anliu chorused while Silas flipped him off. They drank, and Silas fought not to wince with the sharp burn of the sweetwater hitting the back of his throat. He smacked his lips, noticing the distinctly mouth-puckering flavor of it, and cringed in disgust.

"Eleven Wells, Fitz," Anliu said with a wince. "Why is that so sour?"

"It's the special summer edition, it's lemon flavor," Fitz said, grinning. "I like it!"

"You're a psychopath," Madi told him calmly. "This tastes awful."

"If you're going to complain so much, come with me into the city, we can pick something up," Fitz said with a shrug. "I had a spiced cinnamon cream liqueur but I finished the bottle on the way here. We took a detour to Aure, and the ambiance was too nice not to drink."

"What do you mean 'we'? You and who, Annika? Isn't she like eight?" Silas asked, deeply concerned.

Fitz scoffed. "Okay, first of all, she's, like, at least eleven, I'm pretty sure. Besides, do you really think I'm that irresponsible of a brother? I'm talking about Kaz. He was gonna come to Verelys but Aure proved too convincing."

Silas very gracefully spat his mouthful of sweetwater back into his glass, earning a look of disgusted reproach from Anliu. "Kaz was going to come? Here? With you? Kazuo Saishiro?"

Madi suddenly laughed aloud. "Fitz, I forgot you didn't see Prince Suave here in action at last year's solstice."

"Yeah, okay, well, I don't recall you being the picture of grace and dignity either," Silas snapped.

Fitz looked at Anliu questioningly, who smiled slyly behind the lip of his glass. "Lord Saishiro showed up at the Solstice gala and both of them devolved into blushing schoolgirls."

From the look on Fitz's face, it would seem like Yuletide had come early. Silas and Madi both worked very hard to look anywhere except him.

"So, you're telling me," Fitz began, a thousand-watt smile dawning on his face.

"Noooooo," Silas begged.

"—that my cousin and my best friend—,"

"Fitz, I will pay you to shut up," Madi said gravely. "I will pay you currency to drop this forever. How much do you want, I'm writing the check as we speak."

At this point, Fitz had fully devolved into laughter and was steadily turning blue with mirth.

"You," Silas proclaimed indignantly, stabbing an accusatory finger at Anliu. "You're downright sinister, Song. Why do we never acknowledge what a menace you are?"

"Sinister is relative and we hang out with Fitz. Besides, I'm too cute," Anliu reminded him solemnly, and Silas sighed in defeat.

"I hate it here," he said morosely. Madi patted him consolingly on the shoulder.

"Oh, Wells," Fitz giggled as he recovered. "Okay, okay, I'm good. I'm good. Moon and stars, now I wish I'd convinced Kaz to come to Verelys with me. What a loss."

"Let's go back to talking about my Selection," Silas said abruptly, trying to will the heat out of his ears. "Anyone remember that? The competition for my hand in marriage? Is this ringing any bells?"

Luckily, Anliu appeared to have some residual kernels of mercy left in him, so he let his shit-eating grin drop in favor of humming pensively. "I seem to recall something like that," he agreed. "Which one of us should start then?"

Fitz sighed. "It would be my pleasure to wax poetic about Miss Melissandre LeRoi, but because I'm not a total idiot, I'll let you guys go first. Whatever you guys have going on is probably more useful."

"I'll start, then," Madi volunteered. "Did you find that binder Stelle left you with the apps?"

"Yeah, here." Silas grabbed it off his desk chair and opened it up, poised to flip to whatever names Madi gave.

"So, I was with Victoria Edison-Verne and Luisa Pagel of Alunde, and a girl named Mika from Ethotaur."

"Alunde, Alunde," Silas muttered, flipping through the pages. "And...um, I'm guessing Michiko Ariyoshi?"

"That'd be the one." Madi tilted his head. "The first two were nice, I think you'll like both of them."

"It says here Victoria is from a well-known trademark family in Alunde," Fitz read off over Silas's shoulder. "Ooh! Her family makes watches. Hey, wait, their family totally made your watch, Anliu!"

"Once upon a time that was my watch," Silas grumbled.

"Once," Anliu agreed. "And then you lost a game of cards last month. A cautionary tale about the dangers of gambling."

"It was a good watch," Silas mourned.

"Stay on task," Madi reminded them, and they all turned back to the binder.

"Okay, anything of note to report about Victoria?" Silas asked.

"She was a bit eccentric but, well—," he shrugged and met his gaze.

"Alunde," they chorused knowingly at the same time.

"Exactly," Madi said with a nod. "But she's plenty friendly and easy to get on with. Luisa Pagel is a jeweler. She made my cousin's engagement ring, actually. She's sweet, but on the quieter side. If I had to guess, she's probably a romantic. Or that was the read I got, anyway."

"That's a good sign!" Fitz chimed in. "Maybe she's actually here to fall in love."

Silas frowned. "As opposed to?"

"Be a vessel for a greater political agenda, obviously," Fitz said casually. "I mean, you did let the Primors pick the candidates."

Silas grimaced. "Yes, well, we'll just have to make do with that. Let's move on. The Ethotaurian, what was up with her?"

"I didn't like her," Madi said, point-blank, which actually made Silas blink in surprise. That was a rare thing to hear from his normally easy-going friend. "I'm starting to think it's an Ethotaurian thing, to just use power with reckless abandon. Like the way Primor Carmine talks in our heads all the time."

All four of them instinctively winced just thinking about it.

"What exactly did she do?" Silas asked suspiciously, squirming discomfort growing in the pit of his stomach. Like the thought of having to get close to an Ethotaurian didn't make him nauseous enough, now he was hearing one of them pulled some sort of creepy stunt on her first day?

"I don't know exactly," Madi said slowly. "I just don't know enough about Ethotaurian powers to explain. But the crowd was cheering loudly, and she just leaned out the window and looked at them, and they just got quieter. Like she dampened their enthusiasm, almost?"

"Probably emotion manipulation," Fitz guessed, tapping his chin. "That's gross for sure, but it's pretty cool she can do it on such a big scale. She must be powerful."

Silas's jaw tightened, and he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. He hated this. How could he be expected to navigate this competition using his heart if that couldn't be trusted? Not with these Ethotaurians around, anyway. And what about his mind? What if one of them meddled with his mind? The thought made his blood run cold and his heart beat a little harder.

"Silas," Anliu said, studying him carefully. "Are you…?"

"I'm alright," he said quickly, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Just...thinking."

"About?"

He hesitated, trying to parse through the thicket of emotion growing under his ribs. "I don't like it," he ground out at last. "Those girls being here. They just creep me out. I don't trust any of them."

"Are you going to eliminate them off the bat?" Fitz asked, exchanging a little glance with Madi. "You realize that's a power you have, right?"

"You were there, at the Primorium," Silas said reluctantly, shaking his head. "You know what I promised them all, that each girl would have a fair chance of winning."

There was a contemplative silence as they each weighed the situation. No matter how he looked at it, there was just no easy way out. If he sent the girls home early, he'd be showing blatant favoritism (or lack thereof), and House Carmine was not an enemy he could afford to make, now or ever. Especially not if this Selection was the last line of defense to hold Hyalus together as he theorized it was.

"Let's just move on," he said with a sigh, trying to force down the panic climbing his throat. "Anliu? Care to share?"

"My carriage had Avyanna Bronte and Eira Bliven of Vinterbroste," Anliu reported dutifully, his expression smoothing out. "Bliven is a figure skater of some renown. She will likely have an advantage in agility and grace, but does not look to be an experienced fighter. Additionally, her meek nature demonstrates a lack of willingness to assert herself. Bronte is likely the daughter of the general of Vinterbroste. I expect she will have tactical strength and prowess in practical battle situations. She shows great potential to take charge—I foresee her as a strong contender."

"Um—," said Silas, a crease appearing between his brows.

"I also had Liu Lianqi of Haixin. She's a student at the Haixin Academy of Martial Arts, one of the best schools for warriors in Haixin. I expect the best from her. However, her misstep on the train caused harm to a fellow contestant, which could indicate a bit of overzealousness and potentially impact her popularity."

For a moment, none of them quite knew how to respond. Fitz broke the silence with a delighted laugh and saluted him mockingly.

"Well done, soldier. Anything to offer on, you know, the human front?" Fitz teased. "By the Wells, I feel like I just read a military report."

"Ah, um." Anliu's cheeks flooded with color. "That's just my assessment."

"That's all helpful, but what did you think of them as people?" Madi asked. "Did they seem nice?"

Anliu seemed a bit stumped by this one. His lips thinned as he mulled it over.

"Bronte….had a wolf?" he offered at last.

"So?"

"I don't know," he admitted, going pinker. "I just thought it was cool. His name is Glacier."

"Very interesting," Silas agreed. "And the girls?"

He thought for a moment longer. "I'm honestly not too sure. I would describe Bronte as somewhat abrasive but not entirely unpleasant. Bliven was quiet. Shy, I suppose? Liu Lianqi was a model of good behavior."

"Hey, objection, that's shameless propaganda," Fitz complained.

"Overruled," Silas said.

"I'm serious," Anliu continued, earnest. "She was extremely well-mannered. She reminded me of some of Luoxiao's friends."

"The girl who pulled a knife—sorry, a sword—on the train and tried to attack another Selected is 'extremely well-mannered', folks," Fitz joked. "Write that one down."
"Being well-versed in etiquette and being willing to pull a knife on someone are not mutually exclusive traits," Madi countered. "She can be polite and violent. It's called being multi-faceted."

Anliu looked sideways at Fitz, eyes narrowed. "Anyway, just because Lumetierre's full of a bunch of conflict-averse c—,"

"Objection! Slander of Lumetierre," Fitz hollered, smacking his knee in protest.

Silas nodded. "Sustained."

Anliu sighed, offered up his wrist, and Silas gave it a sharp slap. To his credit, he didn't even wince, despite the red prints of his fingers appearing on his skin.

"Nice one," Madi snickered with a low whistle.

A knock sounded at the door and they all looked up.

"I got it," Fitz said, getting to his feet. He sucked a breath through his teeth as he approached. "Please don't be Stelle, please don't be Stelle, please don't be—," he pulled the door open and his eyes lit up, "—Faris!"

"Hey. Am I interrupting anything?" Faris asked, catching Silas's eye over Fitz's shoulder.

"Not at all, not at all," Fitz said merrily, ushering him in. "Come in, come in, have a seat. We're just talking shit, throwing shade, you know us. Say, Faris, how do you feel about lemon? Yes, no?"

"Uh, yes, I guess," he replied, not that it mattered since Fitz was already shoving a glass of that shitty sweetwater into his hand. "I don't need to stay, I just came to deliver a message from Stelle."

"What did she say?" Silas asked warily, ignoring the way Fitz was not-so-subtly pointing at Faris and anxiously mouthing, Can he drink yet?

"Just that there's going to be a welcome ball for the Selected tonight. Naturally, you all have to show up. Formal dress code and all that." Faris looked down at his glass. " By the way, you know I can't drink this, right? I'm eighteen."

"Of course, of course," Fitz said with a bright laugh, casually whisking it away from him. "Pretend it never happened."

"A welcome ball. Hm. Surprisingly, not one of her worst ideas," Silas mused. "We can learn more about the girls, then."

Fitz clapped his hands giddily. "And I can wear my backless suit!"

Silas didn't even glance over. "Nope, that's still off the table."

"Damn!" Fitz blew out a crestfallen sigh. "You never let me do anything."

"It's for your own good," Silas told him wryly, then thought about it for a second. "No, no, I take that back, you're right, it's for my good. Where were we?"

"I believe it's your turn to discuss the girls you met," Anliu supplied.

"Right." Silas paused for a moment, unconsciously tousling his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. "First off, I was with Anastasia Hildekant, so jot that one down."

"Anastasia Hildekant's in your Selection?" Faris remarked, eyebrows shooting up. "I didn't know that."

"The Ice Princess herself," Madi murmured, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Is she as cold as she comes off?"

"Pretty much," Silas admitted. "But I don't know. It's hard to get a read on her. I don't think I dislike her. Still, she doesn't seem easy to get along with, either."

"I always thought it was weird that she wasn't at most functions," Faris said. "Not even when we were kids when she was still assumed to be heir."

"True. We saw her, what, at the Solstice Ball during Yuletide and sometimes during Midsummer?" Silas said, frowning. "But she hasn't even come to Midsummer for a few years now. Come to think of it, she missed last year's Solstice, too, didn't she?"

"She comes to Primorium though," Madi argued, but then stopped to reconsider. "Well, she used to. Actually, it's been quite a while since we've seen her there, either. Fitz, you've spoken to her once or twice, right?"

"Some. Not in many years, though," Fitz said slowly. He looked uncharacteristically solemn as he pondered to himself. "Before I was close with you all, I used to play with her during the Midsummer festivals, because her family always came early. Do you guys remember her mom?"

"I do," Madi said with a frown. "She was Prithvian, right? But not from my family. Wasn't she a commoner? It was apparently quite the scandal at the time."

"Well, she and her mom would come to our estate even before the first day of Midsummer began. Her mom was sort of overprotective but kind. Warm." Fitz's eyes looked so far away. "She brought these Prithvian ginger candies in her pockets and Anastasia used to share them with me. I don't remember her being so cold back then, just shy. Quiet, maybe, but warm. More like her mom than her dad."

He seemed to come back to himself after a moment, and his grin was a lot more familiar than that alien wistfulness. "But, you know, we've all grown up. I guess it's just a side effect."

Silas glanced at Fitz a moment longer, perplexed. The second everyone's attention had turned away, his smile fell in on itself and that same pensive look reappeared on his face. What was that all about?

"Two more in your carriage, right?" Madi was asking. "We should hurry up if we want some time to get ready before the ball."

"Right, yeah, um—," he scrambled to remember his train of thought. "Kandice Something of Blitzerren, I forget her last name. She was a piece of work, though, I didn't like her at all. Bad attitude about another girl, I think she was bringing it up to get me to do something about it."

"Says here she's a mercenary, so that's not too much of a surprise," Faris said wryly, peering at the binder. "Pretty sure a good bedside manner isn't usually on the required skill list."

"Mercenary? Eleven Wells, is Stelle trying to do you in?" Madi let out a deep sigh. "Oh, Silas, you're really in it now. Alright, who was your last girl, let's wrap it up."

"Ember, from Mortefierro. She was the only girl I liked in that carriage." Silas found himself sort of smiling just thinking about her. "I'm fairly sure she'll be sticking around for a while."

"Cage fighter," Anliu read off the profile. "Interesting. A general's daughter, a student warrior, a mercenary, and a cage fighter."

"That's a lot of fighters," Faris observed, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, in case you've forgotten, Stelle really wants me dead," Silas said flatly. "I'm pretty sure I saw a couple more girls like that in the binder, too. Like, assassins and whatnot."

Faris picked up the binder and leafed briskly through it, scanning the profiles. "Let's see. Warrior. Entertainment fighter. Primor's guard. Oh, you were right, assassin. Soldier. Wow, Silas, you're screwed."

"I hadn't noticed," Silas drawled with forced nonchalance, ignoring the clammy fear lurking just under the surface, closing in a vice-like grip over his heart. Breathe, Silas.

"The only people more screwed than you are the girls who aren't trained fighters," Fitz added obliviously. "Because let me tell you, my carriage had a librarian and a pop singer and I'm thinking they should be counting their prayers."

Madi groaned. "Fitz, please don't tell me you fell for the pop singer. Tell me you didn't."

"Wish granted!" he said cheerfully. "I didn't! I fell for a High Priestess of Coranzorre!"

"Somehow," Madi responded, exchanging glances with the rest of them, "—that's worse."

"Can she even, y'know," Faris coughed delicately, eyes downcast. "Like, isn't she a holy figure or something?"

Fitz grinned a crocodile grin. "Knowing Coranzorre? I doubt that kind of policy applies."

Silas pinched the bridge of his nose, already anticipating a great number of headaches his cousin's escapades would doubtlessly be bringing in. "Tell us about the librarian and the pop singer first, then you can rave about your priestess."

"With pleasure!" Fitz chirped. "Okay, first up, the librarian. Min-hye from Coranzorre. Her family owns a chain of hotels and I'm pretty sure they're mega rich, but Min-hye must be estranged or something because she was definitely not mega rich. Also, she's a librarian, which kind of clues us in."

"Maybe her family was just really supportive of her librarian dreams," Faris suggested.

"Well, whatever the case, I don't think she's around her family these days. She got real touchy when I asked about it," Fitz said. "She seems nice but shy. And I dunno, I guess we'd have to get a Sensor in from back home, but I feel like she's hiding something."

"Like a secret dark side?" Silas asked, fighting off a looming sense of dread.

"Yeah, exactly. I mean, I have nothing to back that up, 'cause I couldn't sense if my life depended on it, but it's just a feeling I got. Call it a hunch." Fitz stroked his chin, thinking. "I wonder what her secret is. Maybe she killed a man, or likes cream cheese with her apples. Maybe she eats her bacon raw."

"With the way these other girls are going, my money would be on killing a man," Anliu remarked.

"Well, whatever the case, I don't get danger vibes from her," Fitz said with a shrug. "I don't think she's out for blood or anything."

Madi steepled his fingers. "And the pop singer?"

"Oh, yeah! Do you guys know Ophelia Finch?"

Faris erupted into a sudden coughing fit that had Silas passing him a glass with some alarm. His brother knocked it back without glancing at its contents and then coughed harder, his face turning red with exertion.

"Silas, he wasn't supposed to drink that," Fitz chided. He arched an eyebrow. "Faris, are you okay?"

"Doin' great," he answered hoarsely. "Sorry, did you say Ophelia Finch?"

"Sure did." Fitz beamed. "I didn't know you were a fan."

"I'm not," Faris snapped. "I just. Listen to her stuff sometimes, when I'm working."

"And snuck out to her concert last winter," Silas added, smirking.

"Faris!" Fitz gasped.

Faris flushed fiercely and crossed his arms. "What? It's not like all of you have never—,"

"You snuck out? We are so proud of you!" Fitz exaggeratedly fanned his eyes, blinking back tears of pride. "Granted, it was for a concert instead of a party, but hey, I'll take it! Ugh, it's times like these when being the bad influence in your cousins' lives is so rewarding."

"I can't believe Ophelia Finch is in your Selection," Faris grumbled. "Couldn't she have waited for mine?"

"I think she'd be well out of the age range," Silas told him.

He deflated. "Yeah. Yeah, probably."

"Well, anyway, Ophelia's pretty much what you'd expect her to be," Fitz said with a shrug. "Glamorous, fun, outgoing, real confident, sexy, and all that. And Wells, she's beautiful. Like, knock your socks off beautiful."

"You sure you didn't fall for her?" Madi said, head tilting.

Fitz laughed. "It was definitely a near thing. But no one could compare to Miss Melissandre LeRoi."

"Okay, you have one minute to gush about her and then you gotta clam up about it," Madi said, resigned. "Anliu, keep an eye on the clock."

Fitz took a deep breath; Anliu nodded at him to begin.

And so they all reluctantly braved one solid minute where Fitz chattered about Miss Melissandre's beauty, and her regal bearing, and did they see how fashionable and tall she was? She looked like a model, and when she spoke it was like a chorus of angels and when she passed by the breeze carried the smell of fresh flowers.

"—I love how she looks at me, with the slightest hint of—,"

"That's time," Anliu said, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. Silas thought to himself that he was quite grateful Fitz hadn't yet had time to write any poetry about her, although it would be inevitable in the future.

"Right, well, if we mean to be ready for the ball in time, we should probably adjourn and go get ready," Madi reasoned, getting to his feet. "I'll bid you all farewell for now, if that's alright?"

"Me too," Anliu agreed. "Faris, is Rori in lessons?"

"No, he should be with his mother in the garden," Faris answered. "Although he'll soon be going to get ready for the ball, I believe."

"Well, I'll stop by and try to catch them anyway," Anliu said with a brief smile.

Fitz got up and joined them as they filed out. "I have a show-stopping outfit to plan," was all he said, winking playfully over his shoulder. "Time waits for no diva!"

Silas watched them all as they went, Madi leaning over to murmur something to Anliu that made him laugh. And then they were gone, leaving the room quiet in their absence.

"It's good," Faris said, at last, glancing sideways at Silas. "It's good that they're here. They make you a lot happier."

"And you? Where are your friends?" Silas asked, eyebrows raised.

Faris shrugged. "Does it matter? I can't see them here."

Silas studied his brother for a long while. "You know you don't actually have to stay here, right? You're third-born. You're kind of free to go wherever."

Faris exhaled as he reclined, stretching out his legs. His eyes fixed on the skylight overhead that let the sun into the room. Under his idle flexing fingers, the glass warped and swirled, making the light dance in tiny fragments across the floor.

"I dunno, Si. Like, what would I even do if I left Verelys?" Faris mused, eyes fixed on the shards of light. "I don't know what I'd do, or where I'd go. I don't even know what's out there for me to go see."

"Well, yeah, but don't you want to go find out?" Silas said, blinking. "When I was your age—,"

"I know, I know. The tour," Faris chuckled. "You didn't stop talking about it for a year and a half. And I'm glad that was your thing. You traveled the world with your best friends and checked all the things off your bucket list. But if I leave, who will stay here with everyone? Who's going to take care of Rori and make sure you and Stelle and Dad don't tear us all apart?"

"You can give us a bit more credit than that, we've survived this long on our own, haven't we?"

Faris looked much older than eighteen as his eyes drifted to Silas, pallid blue and resigned. "Have you?"

Silas snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The smile he received was exhausted. "Nothing, Silas. Forget it."

There was a pause. Something prickly and foreign crept into the space under Silas's ribs and lodged stubbornly there.

"Are you sure?" Silas asked carefully. He stopped, unsure, as he tried to find his words. "Faris, I know things are. Hard. Everything's totally fucked, I know that. Just…. I don't know. I hope you know what I mean."

"I do." Faris quietly got to his feet and meandered to the door. When he looked back, his eyes were bright. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should try to get out of here for a while. Might be good for me."

"That's the spirit," Silas said with a grin. "I'll back you up in front of Dad if you need me to."

"I'll keep it in mind."

The door clicked shut quietly behind him and Silas let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. With Faris's departure, the illusion of safety that had manifested in the last hour dissolved, and the momentary warmth seeped away. In its absence, the full force of the circumstances rushed back in.

Bitter, icy fear struck him hard in the ringing silence, making his blood freeze and his muscles lock up. His lungs seemed to shrink in his chest; his breathing thinned. Silas wrapped his arms around himself and tried to ignore the widening chasm in the pit of his stomach, the black, long-fingered beast creeping up his throat, the squeeze on his heart that made it feel like his ribs would collapse.

The feeling that had loomed overhead all day wasn't alien to him, but now there was no time to go fight it out in the training arena or seek out his friends for comforting banter to numb it away. He would just have to swallow it down as best he could and continue on.

Get it together, he scolded himself, gritting his teeth. Across the room, he could see himself in the mirror, eyes hollow and burning, and shuddered with scorn.

I'm stronger than this.

I'm braver than this.

I'm better than this.

And then he thought, with wretched determination: I have to be.

.

.

.

originally this chapter was going to include the ball but obviously the tea session 9read: indulgent banter) got a bit out of hand. any complaints can be filed to world's best beta, miss sevenzeroseven for enabling this behavior.

make sure to check the pinterest board for more original art by Altomi to get your daily serotonin, and I'll see you in the next one!