“They won’t kick you out,” Warrehn said. “Our dear auntie adores you.”
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 even had a normal childhood. He should be able to relax and do what made him happy.
The problem was, Warrehn had no idea what would make Eridan happy.
He watched his brother smile and laugh with someone, and it made Warrehn’s stomach turn, because he now knew he wasn’t really having fun. From time to time, Eridan’s hand flew up to touch the strange purple gemstone on his neck, but other than that, he barely stopped, moving from one group of people to another and smiling that bright smile of his Warrehn was starting to hate.
Eridan smiled, and smiled, and Warrehn felt like punching something.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t.
So he turned to Queen Tamirs and put on a smile that probably looked like a pained grimace, already wondering how soon they could leave.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Broken
When he was a child, Eridan had always been fascinated with the stories about outsiders, stories about life beyond Hronthar.
Those stories seemed like something from a fairy tale: the complicated hierarchy of twelve grand clans, kings and queens, princes and princesses, balls and parties. That outside world had seemed colorful and rich compared to the mundane life in the Initiates’ Hall.
The grass was always greener on the other side.
Granted, the balls were somewhat fun. Eridan had found that he quite liked figuring out the political climate between various grand clans just from watching their interactions. But even the balls had become rather tedious after the first month.
Part of him cringed at his own thoughts. He was well aware that his life was very privileged and complaining about it would sound like the entitled whining of a spoiled, rich brat.
No, he wasn’t complaining. He was just… He sometimes still wasn’t sure what he was doing among these finely dressed royals and politicians. He felt like he was playing a part in a play that had dragged on for too long, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over so he could finally go home.
Home. He found himself longing for the quietness of High Hronthar, for the old cobblestones under his feet and the crisp mountain air in his lungs.
He yearned for other things, too, but those things just made him angry, so he ruthlessly squashed down those idiotic yearnings.
He was Prince Eruadarhd of the Fifth Grand Clan. He didn’t fucking need the asshole who had messed with his memories and then cast him aside at the first opportunity.
Eridan made sure to avoid any social functions he might encounter Castien at. It wasn’t hard: he knew what kind of social functions Castien attended as the High Adept.
But three months after leaving the High Hronthar, there was a social gathering Eridan couldn’t miss: the wedding of Prince Ksar and Prince Seyn.
A royal wedding between the sons of such prominent grand clans was a big deal, and it was doubly so because Ksar was the Lord Chancellor of the planet. Not attending their wedding would make people—and the gossip blogs—talk, and that was the last thing he and Warrehn needed.
Besides, Eridan still hoped that another mind adept might officiate their wedding, not necessarily the High Adept, especially since last he heard, Castien and Ksar were at odds with each other. Not to mention that Prince Ksar and Prince Seyn wouldn’t need the traditional marriage bond that was normally established during a marriage ceremony, so a mind adept wasn’t really needed.
But of course, that was probably too much to hope for. Tradition was everything on Calluvia, and it was tradition that only the High Adept should officiate such a high-profile wedding.