Darkborn 2 - Lightborn by Alison Sinclair

Author:Alison Sinclair [Sinclair, Alison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2011-05-15T02:48:45+00:00

Fejelis

Fejelis found his younger brother on his balcony, standing in the one corner that was still not in shadow at this hour, and looking out over the late-afternoon city. Orlanjis had, by all reports, kept to his rooms all day. He was not dressed for a public appearance. His auburn hair was worked into a simple braid, held with a red ribbon.

He started as Fejelis’s name was announced, his shoulders stiffening.

“… I’m glad to see you didn’t suffer too many ill effects from breakfast,” Fejelis said, to his back.

Orlanjis turned, posture and expression braced, lower lip protruding slightly. “I spoiled it, didn’t I?”

“… If that was your intention, yes.”

“I didn’t want to, but Sharel … and I wasn’t feeling well anyway… .”

Sharel was their mother’s sister, younger by twelve years, who had joined Helenja’s entourage after the purge that had followed Fejelis’s poisoning. Fejelis was not surprised that Sharel had suggested the masquerade, or that Orlanjis had taken the suggestion; when he was younger, he had adored her, and even now, plainly he was under her influence.

“I’m ashamed of myself,” said Orlanjis, eyes downcast behind thick ginger lashes.

Which he might well be, as well as realizing that the potential consequences of offending Prince Fejelis were quite a bit more severe than the consequences of offending a mere elder brother. Fejelis rubbed thoughtfully at the callus on his right index finger, where his fencing glove had worn thin and the pommel rubbed, and looked around him. Of all the prince’s children, Orlanjis had spent the longest in their mother’s lands, in the desert, and was acutely homesick in the north. Along this narrow balcony, he had created a miniature desert, the sands sheltered and contained by glass.

Orlanjis said, dolefully, “I suppose if I want to go south for the winter, it’s you I should ask.”

Along the side of the building, blocking one of the windows, a portion of a canyon wall had been sculpted from porous clay and planted with cacti and epiphytes. Rather than answer his brother’s implied request, Fejelis crouched to study the feathery sprigs of the plants that lived on moisture from the air. After a silence, Orlanjis said, “It shouldn’t be that yellow on the tips. It needs more sun.”

Hand on the glass to balance himself, Fejelis stood, trying not to make it apparent he did so to avoid having his brother at his back. Orlanjis seemed not to notice. His eyes, dark like their mother’s, avoided Fejelis’s. “Jay,” he said more clearly, “I’d like to go south as soon as you’ll let me. I don’t want to be here while—”

While things worked themselves out around their father’s deposition, Fejelis understood. “… I’d miss you.”

Orlanjis took a step back. Fejelis shrugged, inviting him to believe it or not. “… I was thinking to ask if you would like the vacant rooms on the top floor. A far bigger balcony than this, and much more sun.”

Orlanjis blinked. “Those were Perrin’s rooms.”

Your sister sends her regards.

“… . Even if she were ever to come back to the palace, it would be as a mage.

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