“But now?” Heath asked, a sense of foreboding overtaking him.
“Now, I don’t think it would be well received,” said the prince dryly. He fixed Heath with another penetrating look. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but Lord Percival has, on his own initiative, organized…I suppose I must call it a competition, between any of his relatives who wish to take part. It has been publicly advertised, to take place a week before the loyalty ceremony. I believe the idea is for any participating power-wielders to display their magic in the most potent form they can devise, and for the spectators to decide on a winner, presumably demonstrated by the volume of their approval.” His voice was decidedly dry by the end of this speech.
Heath gaped at Prince Lachlan. Could Percival really have been so foolish as to organize such an event without consulting the royals, such a short time before his loyalty ceremony? It wasn’t as though he didn’t know how sensitive the whole issue was. Heath had a sinking feeling that Percival didn’t just know, but fully intended to play on that sensitivity in encouraging his cousins to make a public display of their talents.
“I wasn’t aware,” he said, trying to transform his expression into something devoid of emotion. He felt a surge of irritation with his brother. The display in the training yard had been bad enough. It had never occurred to Heath that it was just practice for something larger. No wonder Percival hadn’t wanted to come with Heath and the twins. He’d clearly had plans of his own for the time they were gone.
“It’s a shame,” said the prince candidly. “If the idea had been brought to my father for inclusion in the ceremony, at his instigation, and with a focus on celebrating the beauty of our people’s magic, rather than the overwhelming force of it…”
He trailed off, and Heath understood what he meant. After Percival’s stunt, the king wasn’t going to approve an idea that made it look like he was trying to belatedly—and less impressively—mimic Percival’s competition. Percival had ruined what was probably Heath’s best idea for the ceremony, one which could really have brought the two camps together.
“Do you think you can persuade him to change his mind?” Prince Lachlan asked abruptly. “It would be much simpler if it wasn’t necessary for the crown to step in.”
Heath felt a thrill of dread at the words necessary for the crown to step in. But he still hesitated before replying.
“To be honest, I doubt it. I have no authority over Percival, and I have less influence than you might imagine.”
The prince ran a hand over his face. “I suspected as much. And actually I probably have more of an idea than you think.” He gave Heath a weary smile. “I have a younger brother of my own, remember. There may have been a time when he was able to persuade me into not doing what I wanted to do, but if so, I can’t immediately think of it.”
Heath blinked, a little taken aback by the image presented. He’d always thought that the seventeen-year-old Prince Knox was the more likely to need talking out of a foolish idea, but of course he knew nothing of what Prince Lachlan might be like in private. Still, he reflected with a touch of bitterness, it was hard to imagine that Prince Lachlan had ever required anything like the constant reining in that made Heath feel like Percival was aging him before his time. Perhaps he should have allowed himself to spiral destructively for a little longer. His return to responsibility had clearly been Percival’s signal to once again go his length.
Heath returned to his home with a heavy heart, and was therefore irritated to encounter Percival crossing the courtyard, whistling cheerfully, as though he had no care in the world.
“Back, are you?” said Heath bitingly. “Done making a fool of yourself?”
Percival paused, raising an eyebrow at Heath. “I don’t think I’m the one who was made a fool of, little brother. What possessed you to come clucking into the training yard like a mother hen? Did you think I would meekly follow you home?”
“I thought you would listen to sense like a rational person, but that was my mistake,” said Heath. “What’s this nonsense about some competition between the power-wielders? Don’t tell me you’re still pining over the tournament? I thought you’d accepted that you can’t compete in that anymore.”
“Oh, the tournament,” laughed Percival. “As if I care about that. Where’s the achievement in beating an ordinary fighter?”
Heath stared at him. “You used to think a great deal of that achievement a couple of years ago.”
Percival shrugged, turning away. “That was before I went to Kynton.”
“You’re being an idiot, Percival,” Heath snapped. “There’s a reason Grandmother invited me and not you to visit her in Kyona.”
He regretted his words a moment later, as Percival whipped back around to face him. “Ah, so you admit it, do you? You were just as eager as she was to keep me from finding out what it’s like for our cousins over there. What it should be like for us here!”
Heath’s mouth dropped open. “What are you raving about?” he demanded. “You know I’d never been to Kynton before. I had no more idea what it was like over there than you had!”
Percival made a noise of disbelief. “You and Grandmother are always holed up, drinking your tea.” He put an impressive amount of scorn into the last word. “I’m sure she told you all about it, and how I wasn’t to be trusted with the knowledge.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Heath, forcing himself to speak calmly. “We never had any conversation like that, and if you’d stop being so self-absorbed, you’d know it. You think I have nothing better to do than sit around talking about you?”
Percival glared at him for a moment, then the anger suddenly melted from his face. “Oh, this is stupid, Heath. Why are we fighting about this? What do you care if I want a friendly competition? No one’s making you take part.”
“I care because unlike you, I’m trying to bridge the gap between the power-wielders and the rest of the kingdom,” Heath protested. “Surely you must see this will make it worse. Prince Lachlan said—”
“Ran straight to your new best friend, did you?” Percival interrupted, the anger creeping back into his eyes. “I should have known you’d report it all to him. I know you promised to keep an eye on me before you went away.”
It was Heath’s turn to give an incredulous grunt. He had no idea who had reported to Percival about his earlier conversation with Prince Lachlan, but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that his brother had placed a sinister interpretation on it.
“I never promised anything of the kind,” he said, willing himself to be patient. “And I didn’t say a word to him today about our run in at the training yard.” He felt a surge of anger. “I can’t believe you think I would!”
Percival looked him over silently. “Well, it’s hard to know what to think, Heath. I thought you’d have my back.”
“I do have your back,” Heath insisted. “That’s why I don’t want to see you run into the kind of trouble you’re headed toward, Perce.”