Page 37 of The Night Prince 2

Vesslan blinked slowly. “I suppose, but the basic concepts of magic would be beyond a human–”

“That’s not true,” Declan’s voice was low. “He knows magic down to his core. It means everything to him.”

“You are loyal to your friend. That is a good thing, I suppose, but it means nothing in terms of what is real.” Vesslan shrugged.

“When he passes the test with flying colors, you will see,” Declan insisted.

“I suppose we shall, but even if he somehow does pass the test and is accepted, he will find few friends there,” Vesslan pointed out without any sense of the wrongness in that statement.

Aquilan feared that very well might be true. “That would be a shame for I have spent time with Finley and am looking forward to spending more. He is a good friend to have.”

That left his brother blinking. “Well, it truly seems as if you did much last evening while avoiding me.”

Aquilan felt the prick of guilt at those words, but he hardened himself to them this time. “Brother, would you mind going ahead to the palace and making sure there are refreshments for myself and Declan when we get there?”

“I can contact them via a ridwin,” Vesslan began, mentioning the communication spell that was commonly used between Aravae over great distances.

“I would prefer it if you would see to it yourself,” Aquilan told him firmly. “And I will carry my own books. Thank you.”

He took the two that Vesslan kept threatening to drop or crease the covers. He held them tightly against his chest as if they were a shield against his brother’s inevitable disappointment. Vesslan bowed low. Too low in his opinion.

“Of course, my king,” he said, deferring to the honorific, which somehow made it sound like a knife being inserted into his heart.

Vesslan's hands flared with magic as he made the elaborate runic inscriptions in the air that opened a gate between there and the interior of the Eyras Palace. He stepped through it and the gate disappeared with a pop of golden sparks. Aquilan stood there for long, silent moments with the wind stirring his hair. He was not at all happy with this interaction, but he was uncertain who he blamed for it more: himself or Vesslan. While his brother’s cruelty towards Finley was unacceptable, why had Vesslan felt comfortable saying it in front of him? He must make it clear as glass that this was not something he found acceptable.

“I am sorry,” Declan said quietly, his Shadow appearing at his side as if by magic, too.

Aquilan started and turned towards the young man. “What? Why?”

“I fear I have caused trouble between you and your brother.”

“No, no, you have done nothing. What is between Vesslan and I is of long standing,” Aquilan strove to assure him. When Declan remained standing there, searching his face, Aquilan continued, “My brother and I have always been very different people. And since I am the younger sibling, in the past, I… I just accepted…” He grimaced, unable to fully explain how he had simply allowed his brother to roll over him, because there were no great stakes in doing so while pushing his own thoughts and feelings would have caused an argument. What was one opinion of his compared to millions of Vesslan’s? His brother cared so deeply about minutiae while he never had. He had always perceived it as a weakness in himself, something a ruler needed to have, but he didn’t. Yet despite the fact that he now ruled, he found himself even less interested in those things. “I am king now. Things are different and it is hard for both of us. It was not a situation that either of us ever foresaw us being in.”

“He believed he would be king,” Declan stated, not asked.

Aquilan slowly nodded. “But he has supported my reign and is my closest advisor outside of Rhalyf.”

But even as he said those words he wondered if he said them too quickly as if to cut off any speculation to the contrary. But was Vesslan really a person he relied upon? Not exactly if he were honest. Rhalyf and Helgrom’s opinions mattered more to him. And he sensed that Michael and Shonda’s opinions would have quite a bit of weight too. He would be pushing against his brother’s viewpoints, not adopting them, more often than not.

When that happens, there will be great grief between us.

“I am glad that you are our king,” Declan said suddenly.

“Compared to Vesslan?” Aquilan blinked.

“Compared to anyone.”

Aquilan drew in a breath at the weight of those words upon him. “I fear I might not live up to your expectations, Declan. There is a certain messiness about ruling. Compromises and–”

“You mean giving land to the great Houses,” Declan said. Again, he clove to the very heart of what Aquilan was thinking.

A brief nod. It was strange, but he didn’t even consider whether it was wise to be speaking so openly to someone he had just met. Declan felt right.

“There will be trouble,” Declan said softly. “It will be hard. You will have to fight on all sides. But if you do that, you will come to the right solution. The best one.”

Aquilan regarded this stoic young man. Someone who seemed so much older than his years. And he nodded.

“I am not looking forward to it,” he admitted a little sheepishly.

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