The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

12. A Song in the Dark

M'yu disappeared through the flock of homebound students, then flashed his linkcard at Aevryn's hover. The door opened, and he slid into the empty interior. As the door closed, the hover hummed alive to take him to its pre-programmed destination. M'yu leaned over the console, which displayed the vehicle chugging along a map of the city. He wondered if he could override the instructions and have it take him straight to the Prav'sudja. Would they recognize the hover as Aevryn's and let him pass?

M'yu sighed. He didn't know if the central system was in the Prav'sudja, and even if it was, he'd get caught finding it if he didn't get more information first. You don't go into plans blind. Especially not plans that could end up as your last one.

Shaking his head, M'yu picked up one of his textbooks and started reading. It wasn't long before the hover deposited him at Aevryn's house. At the door, Evriss offered to take his coat at the door, and M'yu juggled his books as he slipped it off.

"Dinner is on the table, sir," Evriss said. M'yu started to turn, but the old man held up a hand. "Sir? Be careful."

M'yu watched the man, but Evriss pressed his lips together, simply slipping M'yu's stack of material from his hands. Drawing a breath, M'yu readied himself for yet another hidden knife fight and walked steadily to the dining hall.

Aevryn sat at the table head, finger tapping against the polished wood. He glared down the table's length, stiff as ice, not even bothering to look at M'yu as he took his seat. The steam of red beet soup wafted up toward M'yu's nose, but he hesitated to reach for his spoon. The Knight's lay untouched beside his bowl.

"Aevryn?" he asked.

The ice of his posture melted some, and he scowled at M'yu, picking up his utensil. M'yu snagged his own, but remembering some tidbit from today's Etiquette class, paused until Aevryn took a bite. Then M'yu dug in and sighed as the sweet-and-sour warmth slid down his throat.

"I should like to congratulate you on your manners," Aevryn said.

M'yu smiled closed-lipped in front of a mouthful of soup and nodded his thanks.

Aevryn's spoon clinked against his own bowl. "Except you eat like a starving cat. For goodness' sake, boy! It's not running away from you."

The metal of the spoon cut into M'yu's tightening fist. "Right, sir," he clipped, blowing carefully over his soup and tipping it slowly into his mouth like Aevryn did. Lukewarm liquid dribbled down his throat.

"Better."

After a minute, Aevryn abandoned his spoon again, finger tapping absently against the table. They were left with the crackle of the hearth and M'yu's spoon scraping and clinking as he ate carefully, gently, slowly. He could have been done minutes ago, up in his room already, working on the mountain of studies he had to conquer, and instead he pretended to be proper while the only person that cared how he acted stared fixedly at the wall.

M'yu's stomach grumbled, but he pushed his now cold soup away and stood.

"I didn't dismiss you, boy."

"I've loved playing house, but I have actual work to do now, so—"

He turned, but Aevryn caught his wrist. "Your actual work is with me. Everything else is a tool. Do you understand me?"

"I'm sorry, was there a lesson I missed in your brooding silence?"

"Watch your tone, boy." Aevryn released him.

M'yu's tongue ran over his teeth. Slowly, evenly, he said, "If I watch my tone, may I go conquer my mountain of homework? Or would you prefer me to flunk out?"