Prince's Master (Calluvia's Royalty 4)

Eridan knew he should despise Castien—he was easily the most horrible person he had ever known—and he did despise him, but truth be told, at this point, he was kind of desensitized to his Master’s horribleness. Eridan blamed their bond. Over the past seven months, it had become so strong that he could always vaguely feel his Master on the other end of the bond, something that should have felt invasive and creepy but didn’t. Eridan found their bond weirdly comforting, especially since he knew how much his Master disliked it.

Castien Idhron disliked anything he didn’t control, anything that wasn’t something he had manipulated into existence, and that only made Eridan like their bond more. And it was all Castien’s own fault, anyway. The “controlled exposure” to his mental touch only strengthened their bond, and Eridan’s “distasteful” addiction problem wasn’t going anywhere, to his Master’s displeasure and Eridan’s amusement.

Though it did worry Eridan a little that he wasn’t making any progress on that front. He might despise his Master, but he hated disappointing him even more. Castien’s disappointment was the worst. It wasn’t at all like normal people’s disappointment: it was one of the two negative emotions his Master allowed himself to display. Unlike Castien’s displeasure, which was his equivalent of anger, it wasn’t amusing in the slightest. His Master’s disappointment made Eridan feel small. Inadequate. Unworthy.

He knew he shouldn’t feel this way—he shouldn’t strive to earn the approval of such a horrible person—but he couldn’t help himself. Castien’s rare praise never failed to put Eridan in a good mood, and his disappointment never failed to ruin Eridan’s day. He hated himself for feeling this way, but it was what it was.

At that moment, he felt a nudge through their bond. “Come here,” his Master’s voice said in his head.

Eridan frowned and headed downstairs, allowing the bond to lead him toward Castien.

It appeared he was in his study.

Eridan didn’t knock, since he was summoned. He entered the room, a little anxious. He couldn’t remember a single occurrence of his Master actively using their bond in such a way. Castien usually liked to pretend their bond didn’t exist when he wasn’t using it for training purposes. The bond did make learning the mind arts easier: it helped Eridan to be more focused, and he could actually meditate when he used the bond as his anchor.

“You wanted me, Master?” Eridan said, trying to read Castien’s inscrutable face as he walked closer.

“Sit.”

Eridan sat in his usual chair and looked at his Master curiously. “I thought you had a Chapter meeting today.”

“It finished early,” Castien said, eyeing him with a strange expression. “Today is your nameday.”

Eridan blinked. Was it? He’d completely forgotten.

It was custom for members of the Order to celebrate their nameday instead of their birthday: the day they had gotten their new, unique name and started a new life. Eridan, like most initiates, didn’t even know his birthday. He only knew that he was registered as three years old on the day he was Named. This was his sixteenth nameday, which made him biologically nineteen years old, though he had probably been nineteen for a while.

It was probably a little pathetic that he hadn’t even realized that this was his nameday: it made it glaringly obvious that he didn’t have any friends to congratulate him, which was pretty much why Eridan had always disliked namedays. They just made him feel even more lonely than usual.

“Oh,” he said, averting his gaze.

“I summoned you to discuss your progress,” Castien said.

Eridan’s stomach dropped. It had been stupid to think even for a moment that his Master actually cared enough to congratulate him. Castien Idhron was the last person who would care about such sentimental things as namedays.

“Your progress in most subjects has been satisfactory,” Castien said.

Eridan’s lips twitched. Satisfactory meant “good” in Castien-speak.

“With a few notable exceptions,” his Master added.

Eridan pouted, which earned him a flat look.

“Your mind-reading ability isn’t where I would like it to be,” Castien said. “And you are still abysmal at meditating without me.”

“But Master,” Eridan said. “It’s not my fault I can’t focus without you guiding me. It’s a condition; it’s not something I made up!”

Castien gave him a pinched look. “You are going to milk this for all you can, are you not?”

Eridan grinned. “Of course. Healer Zchen did confirm that I suffer from a mild form of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.”

“I am quite certain the ‘mild form’ was the key part of your diagnosis,” Castien said dryly. “In any case, I can hardly waste so much of my time on meditating with you. Therefore, I have decided that from now on, you will be meditating with Master Tker—”

“No!”

Castien’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I beg your pardon?”

Eridan swallowed. He was well aware that the Master had ultimate power over the apprentice’s education. Technically, he had no right to object to any decision Master Castien made concerning his studies.