Luminous

58 - Oblivion

Zier's pounding footsteps had died away, but the stifling air bristled with the tremors of the row. The witnesses remained rooted, staring at the door, reeling from the impact, too numbed by shock to think or feel.

As expected, Coris was the first to recover. Or seemingly, at the least. He filled his lungs with a long draw of breath then emptied them in a labored sigh. He turned to the two remaining Greeneyes—half-breeds as his brother branded them.

"Meya. Heloise. I'm so sorry." He lingered in turn on each pair of green eyes, one glowing and reproachful, the other dark and subdued. Trembling with shame, he steadied himself with a hand on the desk then bowed deeply,

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. He's just in denial. He'll come around. And he'll give you both his most contrite apology. You have my word."

Even as her fury and hurt subsided with Coris's promise, Meya shared a worried look with the others. Coris had settled on his chair, drew up a piece of linen parchment then scribbled away with his trusty hawk-feather quill, pausing for thought at intervals, before adding more bullets and intructions.

"Coris," Meya called. Ignoring her, Coris pushed himself to his feet and handed the paper, now folded thrice so it would fit snugly within a palm or stashed under a belt, to his father's two squires.

"Chris. Simon. We'll need preparations for our dragon training. Please see to this by tomorrow."

Simon took the note with numb fingers, still staring in wide-eyed disbelief at Coris along with Christopher. Coris turned next to Arinel, who remained shaken. She seemed to be relying on Heloise's hands on her shoulders to keep her on her feet, while Fione gave her nervous pats on the back.

"Arinel," Lady Crosset surfaced as if from a stupor. Coris gave her a slight bow, "I apologize for the short notice, but you have tonight and tomorrow to decide whether you'd like to travel on with us, or stay behind in Jaise."

Arinel seized up in horror, eyes bulging from their swollen sockets. Coris dipped his head once more,

"Your mother's research could be crucial to retrieving The Axel. Naturally, you'd want to continue it, but there's also the matter of finding Klythe."

Arinel shivered. She seemed to have forgotten her missing brother in light of all that had been going on. At long last, she dipped a deep nod of resignation, then folded herself between her arms. Heloise tightened her embrace, then glanced around along with Fione at the next command directed to her.

"Fione. As maid-of-honor to the lawful Lady Hadrian, your post is with Arinel."

"What about Zier?" Fione narrowed her eyes as if to capture the barest flick of emotion from her perpetually equanimous master. If Coris was taken by surprise, his denial was honed to perfection.

"If he agreed to undergo the surgery, he'd need to be examined by Jaise's healers." He cocked his head. "He'd have to stay. If he doesn't, then he'd travel on with us to Everglen. He'd have to contribute in some way."

Silence fell. Even Fione seemed to have been robbed of her inherent ability to talk in any situation. Coris's calm leadership and eloquence, though soothing in the midst of a crisis, was unnerving when the crisis was that of his own. It seemed fitting—destined, even—that the Hadrian brothers would repeatedly clash. A being of selfish freedom without restraint, Zier was bound to be alienated by his inhumanly logical brother.

Meya shook her head in frustration. He seemed accepting alright, back then when they were talking on the pillow. Yet, once the opportunity arose for vindication, Coris hadn't heeded a word of her advice on how he should portray himself to Zier.