The pale blue moonlight glimmered on the silver window panes. Thealos could hear the sharp voices of Correl and Sorrel arguing in the keeping chamber across the main hall. In between the hard-edged voice of Correl he heard angry words that spoke of his mother’s pain. He listened, pausing in the darkness to savor the sounds. He rarely heard her curse.
“I told you that we couldn’t trust Nordain,” Sorrel said. “He is a greedy, conniving thief. He’ll ruin us – ruin you! I’d sooner trust little Arielle to the Dos-Aralon army than that back-stabbing…”
“I did what I could!” Correl thundered. “He’s our son. They were planning to hold him tonight.”
“No!”
“I know, I know! This will cost us dearly enough. But what else would they get him to confess? That I’d prompted him to shout off to the Council Elder of Vannier? Sons of Fire, he did it in front of everyone!”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m dispatching a messenger to the palace – to the Princess. Maybe she’ll speak for him.”
“Against her father?” Sorrel was incredulous.
“What other choice do we have? I’ll send messages to the members of the Sunedrion who owe us favors, but I don’t have many friends from Keasorn or Shenalle. Normally, this would never go so far so quickly. Nordain planned it from the start.”
Thealos bowed his head and tried to bury the rage in his heart. He knew what he was doing would cost his family. He only hoped they would come to forgive him. Opening his eyes, he stared out at the moonswept gardens, filling his eyes with its sights. He’d miss all the comforts of the manor house, but it was the family gardens that would tug at his soul. He’d miss his parents and brothers, but it was his little sister that he would regret leaving behind. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to trap the good memories inside. Pushing away from the window, he went to the door and opened it.
“I hear him,” Sorrel said. As he crossed the hall, he saw Correl and Sorrel face him from the doors of the keeping chamber.
“I am sorry,” Thealos said as meekly as he could pretend. He looked at Correl. “I’ve failed you yet again.”
Correl’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve always had your own will, Thealos. Ever since you were a boy. Why couldn’t you, for once in your life, have sought the family good instead of your own?” He shook his head, too choked with anger to speak.
“How could I expect you understand me now?” he replied softly. “You’ve never tried to before.”
“You’ve been doing things your way for so long,” Sorrel said with great bitterness. “But you are still our son.”
“I always will be.” He sighed, hating that it had to be this way. “I’m going to talk to Arielle for a little while. Maybe we can talk later? I thought the worst that could happen would be an exile. I never thought Nordain…” He sighed again and shook his head.
Sorrel nodded, folding her arms and pacing the tiles. Thealos smiled inwardly. He’d gotten his pacing habit from her. But she didn’t try and comfort him. No, she was still too angry. Their eldest son was abandoning the Shae tradition of manhood. Not only that, he had committed a serious crime. This would humiliate them. Giving Correl a final look that tried to be conciliatory, Thealos went up the long flight of steps and down the wide hall, running his palm over the flat banister. He stopped at the hall cross-way where a huge silver-gilt mirror faced him and swallowed the image of the room behind. He resembled Sorrel more than Correl, with her wide forehead and narrow face. But he had Correl’s green eyes, a startling color that matched his temper. The face staring back at him was a handsome one – Thealos knew that. He was an incorrigible flirt, especially at parties. But he stared at the image and wondered why the glass didn’t show his heart, his thoughts – all the ideas twisting and struggling to come to life inside his mind. It was only an image, and it revealed nothing of the person within. Much like the Shae. What they were on the surface, the polish, glitter and flash, was nothing what they had become deep within themselves. Frightened, reclusive, stubborn. Nordain was hiding from it. So many did.
After closing the distance, he rapped on his little sister’s bedroom door. He waited a moment and then entered. Arielle was flinging the sheets away like a thrush caught in a thicket.
“Thealos!” she gasped, running up to him and squeezing him so tightly around the middle it hurt. “I was scared that you weren’t coming back. They were yelling so loudly. I couldn’t tell what was happening.”
“Shhh,” Thealos said soothingly, leaning down and kissing her hair. He cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. She was a beauty, the darling youngest of the Quickfellow family. “I’ll be all right, Arielle. I don’t want you to worry.”