Luminous

97 - Cross the Divide

The hallways of Hyacinth palace were deserted save for the occasional harried servant bustling by. Lunchtime was approaching, and all hands were busy preparing the Lady's daily feast.

Simon hurried back to the room he shared with Christopher and the other yeomen. Earlier, when he sidled into the kitchen for traveling supplies, the head cook snatched his old cloak, and upon it she heaped a handful of wrinkly dates, strips of dried goat meat, dried prickly pear fruits, and a log of goat cheese. 

As he was returning home, he didn't need to pack most of his belongings. Just a couple shirts and water skins, and his bundle would be ready. Hopefully, the dragons wouldn't mind the added dead weight. Him and the bundle, both.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, he slid open the door. Sudden movement at the corner of his eye startled him, and he dropped his bundle with a curse. Fortunately, the short fall wasn't enough to burst its knot. He cursed again in relief and annoyance. Thought he'd be chasing after dates rolling like spilled marbles down the hallway. As if he wasn't enough of a dunce already. He looked up to see who the squatter was, then blinked in surprise.

"Coris?" He strode up to his cousin, now standing beside Simon's mattress, "Shouldn't you be with your mistress? She'll need every ounce of company you can provide after that verdict."

The crease between Coris's eyebrows deepened.

"I'll return later. My wife is enjoying a well-earned siesta after helping me rehearse for my long overdue apology."

Simon sensed the hint of cold in his airy voice. He felt tempted to retort, so he strode off to the wardrobe instead.

Coris wasn't his logical self since the peasant girl arrived. It was luck that her Greeneye cause happened to align with Hadrian's centuries-old quest, for he was no longer sure if Coris would put Hadrian's—and Amplevale's—interests first if that wasn't the case. He could understand him risking it all to protect Zier. But Meya Hild? Even Christopher agreed.

Well, that would teach Mother. Little Coris isn't so flawless now, is he?

As much as the thought gratified him, Simon chided himself. After all, his days weren't numbered. He couldn't judge what Coris should do with what was left of his. And Coris had already sacrificed his share for their people. If Lord Uncle was satisfied, perhaps it wasn't his place to toss in his two Latts. Perhaps it wasn't proper of Mother to keep relying on Coris, either. Perhaps it was high time a true child of Amplevale defended it. Lord Uncle thought that was Simon. He was too optimistic in that regard, but what could Simon say?

"Freda bless her." He snatched up shirts then stuffed them into the bursting bundle. He'd repack them properly later. He didn't feel like basking in Coris's presence longer than he must, "Out with it. Uncle sent you, didn't he?"

"Why should that matter?" For a prodigy, he could be unbelievably dense. Simon rolled his eyes then slammed the wardrobe door shut.

"Because your opinion matters to my mother. And my mother's opinion is that I should stay." He spared a moment to enlighten him, then marched back to the door—

"Simon, from my experience, it isn't always wise to please our mother's opinion."

Simon froze with his hand on the doorframe. He couldn't help but consider it. If their mothers' opinions were to be pleased, both he and Coris would not have been born. Yet, he digress—it would be wise. Perhaps they would've been better off if Freda had planted their souls in other wombs, but these were the ones she'd chosen for them. What else could he have done if not accept the mother he'd been given?