Fallen Princeborn: Chosen by Jean Lee

Author:Jean Lee [Lee, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rock Jars Press
Published: 2020-10-27T05:00:00+00:00

29

Yes, Mother

Dozens of points prick the thick calluses of Liam’s feet. There must be splinters galore beneath him. Broken plates and cups. Jars, certainly. And this doesn’t include the modern additions Arlen favored after studying Charlotte’s phone for advances in culinary devices.

His father waits until Charlotte and Keller’s footsteps fade into Rose House. Where would they go—the library? Charlotte’s quarters? Keller’s easy wit and smile, the way he could speak with Charlotte about her music like he understood her, the knave, the…

“Now, where have you been, boy? The commoners above speak such riddled accounts. The human’s surely not to be trusted. And your once-teacher seems to have lost his tongue.” Lord Artair drums a little rat-a-tat-tat on the table with his fingers. “Are all residents of River Vine now accounted for? Or should I be checking the grounds for more? Along the lakeshore,” he gives Arlen a sidelong look, “perhaps?”

Arlen hasn’t moved, not once, through this whole exchange. His wrinkles are all but gone, his hair more pepper than salt. Opposite Lord Artair, Arlen brims with a silent, youthful power. And he wastes none of it on Liam’s father.

Liam looks down upon his own wine-hued skin, at the debris around his toes. “Orna’s followers killed one borderland child and kidnapped another. She had to be stopped before the borderland covenant was frayed beyond repair. Her resources, they were unexpected.” He stands with legs slightly spread, his hands folded at the small of his back. “A result of her cannibalism, I believe.”

Lord Artair harrumphs and stands. “Yes, I heard about that. Nasty business. Nasty for other Houses. What commoner’s going to follow a leader keen to eat them as well as any human? And a border family helps provide the camouflage necessary to our lures and snares. Foolish creature, thinking she could thrive without one.” He pats Liam on the arm, then turns him to face the reception hall. “Now off to your mother. We’ll have all the time in the world to catch up after tomorrow.”

Liam’s stomach rolls. “Surely you can’t be away from your holdings for so long?”

Lord Artair laughs a jolly laugh, which disturbs Liam all the more. “Never you mind about such matters. Ah, I hear one of the commoners chirping in the hall. Follow her upstairs to say hello! I’ll be along shortly. I just need Arlen’s clarification on two minor details.” He turns with a predator’s grin upon Arlen.

A broken teacup cuts into Liam’s foot. His blood worms beneath a kettle, over a wooden spoon. His looks to the herbarium, its scraps of healing, but his father’s hand is up, blocking him.

“Go on,” Arlen says before Liam can speak.

And like a child he is shooed away from the grown men at the table. They sit locked in their silent duel, pointed stares aimed and ready to strike the moment one blinks.

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