“
When the first day of the festival had concluded, I retired early, my feet aching and my body exhausted. Narian had left us after our tour of the grounds, and I had not seen him since, although I hoped he would come to me now. He did, but even as he dropped through my window, he seemed distracted, far away inside his own head. I tried to engage him in conversation, but found it to be mostly one-sided, for I could not hold his interest. Though there was no smooth way to launch into the necessary topic, I did so anyway, doubtful that he was even listening.
“Are you upset that your family was with us today?” I asked.
“You invited them?” Judging by the tone of his voice, I had landed upon the correct issue.
“Yes. It made sense to do so.”
“I suppose,” he replied, but I knew the answer did not reflect his actual thoughts.
“They’re old friends of my family, Narian. And I thought perhaps you would…enjoy seeing them again.”
“Alera, they don’t want my company.”
“Your mother does.”
His eyes at last met mine.
“I spoke to her about you. She would give up her husband to regain her son.”
“I doubt that’s true,” he said with a short laugh.
“It is,” I insisted, reaching out to run a hand through his hair. I might have changed her words a little, but I understood her intent. “She told me so herself. Believe it.”
Narian stared at me, a flicker of hope on his face that quickly faded into his stoic façade.
“Even if what you say is true,” he said at last, “in order to have a relationship with her, with my siblings, I need to have one with Koranis.”
“You’re right,” I admitted, for my dinner at the Baron’s home had proven that to be the case.
He sat on the bed beside me and drew one knee close to his chest. “Koranis doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, and to be honest, I have no interest in a relationship with him. I have no respect for him.” Narian read the sympathy in my eyes. “It’s all right, Alera. I don’t need a family.”
“Maybe you don’t need one,” I said with a shrug, playing with the fabric of the quilt that lay between us. “But you deserve one.”
I thought for a moment I had hit a nerve, but instead he made a joke out of it.
“Just think--if I’d had Koranis as my father, I might have turned into him by now. I’d be brutish and pretentious, but at least my boastful garb would distract you from those flaws. Oh, and this hair you love? It would be gone.”
I laughed at the ounce of truth in his statement, then fell silent, for some reason feeling sadder about his situation than he was.
”
”