A/N: One more character-building chapter for another narrative character in my sequel to the High Lord's Fate and then I will go back to some Akkarin/Sonea for you all tomorrow, I promise!
May Old Acquaintances Be Forgot
Regin stepped out of the carriage and up the walkway to his childhood home, his red robes swishing around his ankles. After almost three years, he had finally grown accustomed to wearing the full robes even though he had felt rather like he was wearing a dress at first. He did have to admit—he very much appreciated the effect they had on others he passed. It was quite nice to have people bowing to him.
A servant opened the door, bowing immediately upon seeing him. "Lord Regin, please follow me. Lord Rhiatt and Lady Calista are waiting for you in the drawing room." Regin forced his face to remain neutral at hearing that his brother and sister-in-law were already there. Rhiatt was eight years older than Regin and had spent most of Regin's childhood making his life a living hell. His parents had turned a blind eye to most of Rhiatt's actions; as the heir, he was the clear favorite child. Regin had never been happier than the day his uncle found great magical potential in him and suggested he join the Guild. Even now that they were both adults, however, and settled into their own lives, Regin could not help but resent his brother somewhat. Regin felt that he had truly earned his title of Lord; Rhiatt had done nothing special for his title except being born first.
Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind lest they show on his face, Regin followed the servant into the drawing room where his brother already stood at the sideboard, pouring himself a drink. He turned when the servant announced Regin's arrival, a glint in his eye that Regin recognized all too well. For a moment, the familiar panic welled up inside Regin, but he quickly pushed it down, reminding himself that he was a fully-trained magician. Rhiatt could not hurt him.
They made inane small talk for a short period before Regin's parents joined them, looking even older than the last time Regin had seen them. Of course, he was too well-bred to say such a thing but merely greeted them politely, giving a short update on the classes he was teaching at the Guild when they asked. After a few minutes, his mother remarked, "Dinner should be ready now, so we can go on through."
Regin looked at her in puzzlement. "Shouldn't we wait for Raisa?"
Immediately, Regin could tell he had said something wrong. His mother's expression shuttered instantly, his father's gaze darkened, and his brother snorted into his drink. "You are really sheltered in the Guild, aren't you, little brother?" Rhiatt questioned.
"Raisa will not be joining us," Regin's mother declared, her nose wrinkled as if she had smelled something horrid. "She has decided to marry against our wishes—and to an Elynian merchant no less—so she is no longer part of this family." Regin could clearly hear the derision when his mother spoke of his brother-in-law's occupation, and at one point in time, he would have shared that derision. However, whenever he had interacted with commoners in the past few years, which was admittedly not often, for he still tried to avoid them, he could not help but think of another commoner who had once saved his life and that of countless others despite what others thought of her. Almost without meaning to, Regin had come to respect Sonea and even admire her for her actions. Of course, he would never admit it aloud, and even within his own mind, he often tried to reason with himself that he would have done the same in her position, but the admiration was still there. If Sonea had stayed in the Guild, it could have even turned into a friendship—or at least a more friendly rivalry. Given that, Regin was somewhat relieved she had not stayed. Overcoming years of prejudice would have been terribly difficult, and he doubted he would have enjoyed the effort. But at moments like the current one, when he could not stop his thoughts from turning to the Slum Girl who had defied all expectations, he could not help but think that he would have liked the results—a friendship with her.
But of course, that was impossible now, and it was no use considering what if's.