Dearly Despised (Calluvia's Royalty 5)

That was why Samir wasn’t very surprised when one morning he woke up to the news of Eridan leaving the palace and returning to the monastery.

Calluvian Society Gossip

PRINCE ERIDAN: I MISS MY HOME

In an unexpected turn of events, Prince Eridan of the Fifth Grand Clan doesn’t wish to be a prince. Raised by the mind adepts of the High Hronthar, the prince reportedly feels more at home at the austere monastery than he does at the lavish palace of his brother.

“I love Warrehn very much, and I’m ever so grateful that we have found each other again,” Prince Eridan said. “But the Order has been my home since I was three years old, and I’m so grateful to my brother for allowing me to return to the life I’m used to. My greatest ambition is to become a certified mind adept of the Order, but it doesn’t mean I will stop being Warrehn’s brother. I support him in everything.”

Samir closed the article and thought of the ramifications of it.

One thing was for sure: his mother was going to be thrilled.

Chapter 6

Samir stood beside his mother on the grand staircase of the palace as they watched Warrehn say his goodbyes to Eridan. The brothers hugged, Eridan’s slim form almost comically tiny in the king’s arms.

“What a turn of events,” Dalatteya said quietly, her tone thoughtful.

Samir made a noncommittal noise, watching the brothers part. Warrehn’s face was like stone despite the tight hug he’d given his brother.

“Look at him,” Dalatteya murmured. “He feels so angry. Lost. Lonely. His brother has abandoned him. He’s so alone. Now is the perfect time to act, my dear.”

Samir looked at Warrehn’s tense, hunched shoulders and nodded in agreement. Warrehn did seem angry and lonely, even though he was clearly trying not to show it for Eridan’s sake.

“What are you suggesting, Mother?” Samir said, suppressing a sigh. It appeared that now that Eridan was out of the picture, the plotting against Warrehn was on.

“Provoking a public uprising isn’t possible right now,” his mother said, drumming a manicured finger over the railing. “Eridan has garnered quite a bit of public sympathy for his brother in the past few months. Unless Warrehn makes a huge misstep, that sympathy won’t evaporate overnight. So there are only two options: either Warrehn abdicates willingly or he’ll have to be removed.”

Samir nearly laughed at the casual way his mother was discussing murder and regicide. The worst part was, he couldn’t even tell her that he’d take no part in this: if he did, she would just have Warrehn removed, Samir’s opinion be damned. This way he could at least know what she was planning.

“I don’t think I can seduce him,” Samir said. “He saw right through me the last time I tried.”

“It’s all right, darling,” she said, still watching Warrehn. “It doesn’t matter. I may have found another solution.”

Samir narrowed his eyes. “Mother, what are you planning?”

Dalatteya just smiled and started talking about the ball she was going to attend that night.

Sometimes his mother was absolutely infuriating.

***

Since Eridan’s departure, Samir noticed that Warrehn had been avoiding social functions. But the court day was obviously an exception. It didn’t matter how much Warrehn might detest socializing; he was the king, and the court day was one of the social functions he wasn’t allowed to avoid. Warrehn also couldn’t forbid Samir from attending without giving the gossipmongers a lot to talk about. Traditionally, the king had his heir next to him as he greeted his lord-vassals, and with Eridan gone, that role fell to Samir.

Warrehn certainly didn’t look happy to have him there, judging by the stony expression on his face as Samir sat down in the seat to the left of his throne.

Not that he ever looks happy, Samir thought uncharitably, dragging his eyes away from the king, a little annoyed by how often his gaze seemed to gravitate toward a man who hadn’t even deigned to give him more than a glance since Samir’s arrival.

It wasn’t as though he wanted Warrehn to look at him; Samir didn’t exactly relish being the object of his disdainful gaze. It was just… It irked him that Warrehn had no trouble ignoring him when Samir couldn’t do the same, hyperaware of the king’s presence beside him. Warrehn was just so difficult to ignore. Maybe it was his size—the way his tall, powerful body occupied the throne, somehow both relaxed and tense. Samir could see Warrehn’s hand on the armrest of the throne in his peripheral vision, and there was a fine tension in that hand, the veins standing in sharp relief despite Warrehn’s seemingly relaxed posture. The signet ring on Warrehn’s finger gleamed brightly, a stark contrast to his otherwise somber, dark attire.

His fingers were elegant despite their size, and well groomed, which somewhat surprised Samir. He had trouble imagining Warrehn giving a fuck about how his hands looked. Though the fact that he hadn’t bothered to remove the dark hair on his knuckles was well in character.