Prince's Master (Calluvia's Royalty 4) - Page 65

Eridan sucked a breath in, a little disoriented as he tried to assimilate all the memories. Queen Janesh. His research. His confrontation with Castien. His analysis of Warrehn’s telepathic mark. Brother. Warrehn really was his brother.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Warrehn cut in, taking another step to Eridan. He laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Eri, let’s go—you are coming home with me.”

Eridan stared at him before looking at Castien.

“Don’t look at him,” Warrehn said harshly. “That man has no say in it. You are a prince of the Fifth Grand Clan. He had no right to deprive you of your birthright.”

“I deprived him of nothing,” Castien said coldly. “Unless by birthright you mean being scared to return to one’s own home. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Warrehn glared at him, his face flushing. “Shut up. We know that you had my aunt under your thumb for years. You could have easily returned Eridan home years ago without risking his life. That’s what I don’t understand. Why didn’t you? Or did you want me dead first? Or maybe you weren’t done brainwashing him?”

Castien stood, his eyes ice cold as he looked at Warrehn, his telepathic presence darkening and filling the room. The air was so thick with it Eridan could barely breathe.

Castien said quietly, “You should not insult someone in their own home.”

Warrehn’s fists clenched. “I’m not scared of you, Idhron. Or are you going to brainwash me, too, like you brainwashed my brother?”

“Enough,” Eridan snapped. “I’m right here. And Castien can be a total asshole, and I despise him for what he did, but I’m not brainwashed, thank you very much.”

Warrehn gave him a dismissive look. “You would say that if you were brainwashed, Eri.”

Eridan glared at him. “My name is Eridan. I’m not the child you abandoned two decades ago, and I would appreciate it if you’d stop treating me like one.”

Warrehn looked as though he’d punched him. “I didn’t want to leave you, Eridan. I had no choice.” He glared at Castien. “Didn’t you tell him how you got him? It was you, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure at first—it all happened so fast, and you were a lot younger back then—but now I’m sure it was you.”

Castien’s face was blank, his eyes cold and unreadable.

Eridan looked at him, his voice wavering as he said, “Is that true?”

Warrehn grumbled, “Why do you still believe his word over mine?”

Eridan ignored him, looking at Castien, pleading with him to tell him the truth, for once.

Castien stared at him for a long moment, his telepathic presence coiled with tension.

Finally, he gave a clipped nod.

“See?” Warrehn said. “We are leaving. Do you have things you want to take with you?”

Eridan blinked at him, feeling lost, and found himself looking back at Castien. He hated himself for still looking at Castien Idhron when he felt lost.

A muscle twitched in Castien’s jaw, his face otherwise inscrutable as he gazed at Eridan. “He is right that I have no authority to keep you here. Your brother is your legal guardian until you turn twenty-five.”

“Exactly,” Warrehn said gruffly. “You know you have no legal ground to stand on, especially since I can accuse you of line theft—Eridan is my heir.” Warrehn sneered. “And your Order’s unblemished reputation is more important to you, isn’t it?”

Castien didn’t even glance at Warrehn, still looking at Eridan with that strange, intense look on his otherwise blank face. “I made sure you have been taught royal customs. You should not struggle too much.”

Right.

This had always been Castien’s plan, just a few years early—and with an overprotective brother that wasn’t supposed to be in the picture when Castien had devised the plan.

Eridan pressed his lips together to stop them from trembling.

“How thoughtful of you,” Warrehn said flatly, scowling at Castien. “The only reason I’m not getting your whole organization outed as a bunch of power-hungry psychos is because I don’t give a shit about politics and you did save my brother’s life and keep him safe—if you can call being raised in this creepy place safe. Leave him alone from now on, and I won’t have a problem with you. Eridan, let’s go. Eridan?”

Eridan stared at Castien’s emotionless face, waiting for… he didn’t know what. A proper goodbye? For Castien to forbid him from leaving? Or… ask him to stay?

A laugh bubbled up in his chest, harsh and humorless.

Fuck, he really was an idiot.

Turning away swiftly, Eridan bit out, “Let’s go,” and marched out of the room.

He didn’t look back.

Chapter Twenty-Two: A New Home

The Fifth Royal Palace was beautiful. Beautiful, obnoxiously luxurious, and completely unfamiliar.

Nothing triggered a memory.

“It used to look different,” Warrehn said gruffly, breaking the awkward silence that had descended between them since they had left the monastery.

Eridan made a non-committal noise, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how to act around Warrehn. It wasn’t as though he didn’t think of him as his brother: during his month of captivity, he had come to accept it as a fact, and now that his memories were back, he remembered it. He didn’t even dislike the guy; Warrehn was right that they already had the beginnings of a familial bond, which would undoubtedly become stronger with more exposure and time. No, the problem was that he didn’t know what Warrehn expected him to be. He had a feeling that Warrehn had built up his missing little brother into some kind of angel, something Eridan definitely wasn’t.

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