Prince's Master (Calluvia's Royalty 4)

Eridan winced a little. The long ride was going to be terribly uncomfortable if his Master continued ignoring him.

“Was it really necessary?” Castien said, setting course for the town.

Eridan breathed out. At least he was talking to him. “Well, you know me, Master,” he said in a light tone. “I can’t help myself when people say stupid shit.”

Castien continued to look straight ahead, even though it wasn’t actually necessary now that the autopilot was on. His expression was a little tight. “Tethru is right. I am too lenient with you.”

“That prick deserved it. Didn’t you teach me that an insult should never go unpunished or they’ll start thinking I’m weak?”

“Brute force isn’t the answer, Eridan. All you managed to prove was that your emotions still rule you.”

“Can we not do this?” Eridan said with a sigh. “You have been gone for thirty-nine days.” He added softly, “I missed you, Master.”

Castien’s jaw tightened. He still wouldn’t look at Eridan.

Eridan folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. He didn’t exactly regret saying it—he wasn’t ashamed of his emotions—but his Master’s strange reaction to his words always confused him. Castien didn’t tolerate displays of affection and never was one to engage in them. Although he had expressed his disapproval numerous times, he hadn’t actually forbidden Eridan from expressing his affection. He could have, but he hadn’t. It was rather baffling, this strange middle ground.

“How was your trip?” Eridan said when the silence stretched.

A barely noticeable frown appeared on his Master’s face. “Eventful,” he replied. “The reports have been confirmed.”

Eridan looked at him in surprise. “You mean Tai’Lehr really wants to come clean to the Council?”

Castien gave a clipped nod. “It is troubling.”

That was an understatement. If the Tai’Lehrians came forward as the renegades that had once fled their grand clans after refusing to conform to the Bonding Law, and the Council of Twelve Grand Clans forgave them their transgressions, it would most likely draw unwanted scrutiny to the Order. As far as the rest of the Calluvians were concerned, the Bonding Law was introduced to protect them. But the renegades knew the truth: that the Bonding Law was introduced to give the High Hronthar ultimate power over the planet, since its members were the only telepaths on the planet not bound by it. If the Council discovered that the Order was not actually an apolitical organization of mind healers…

Eridan frowned. “What are you planning to do?”

“There will be a meeting of the Chapter in the morning,” Castien replied. “The Chapter will decide how to handle the issue, not me.”

Eridan snorted. “Please, Master. Let’s not pretend the Chapter doesn’t listen to anything you suggest.”

“I am not the Grandmaster. Tethru is.”

Eridan’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Did you know about the Tai’Lehrians? Is that why you didn’t want to be the Grandmaster when Kato died? So that Tethru takes the fall if the worst comes to the worst?”

Castien’s face was inscrutable. But he didn’t deny it, so Eridan took it as confirmation. He shook his head to himself, marveling at how his Master was always two steps ahead of everyone. It was a quality that had always annoyed Eridan a little. He always felt terribly transparent, while it was incredibly difficult to get a read on his Master.

“But how did you know about it before everyone else?” Eridan said. “We hadn’t yet gotten those reports about Tai’Lehr when Grandmaster Kato died.”

Although Castien’s face remained unreadable, some emotion flared in their bond, too quickly for Eridan to recognize it. “I have my own sources.”

Eridan shot him an exasperated look. “Don’t you trust me, Master?”

Castien’s posture was very straight, his eyes fixed on the mountains. “As much as I trust anyone,” he said.

Eridan pouted.

“Stop putting on that face,” Castien said.

“You aren’t even looking at me, Master. How do you know what face I’m putting on?”

Castien didn’t deign to reply.

Eridan scowled, his fingers playing with his thaal absent-mindedly. He had learned to navigate other telepaths’ minds without the grounding help of his thaal a while ago; the gemstone was more of a comfort thing at this point. Sometimes, when Castien was particularly distant and their bond was too quiet, Eridan just needed a reminder that his Master had chosen him, chosen him out of hundreds of initiates.

But did that really mean anything?

***

Eridan’s mood lifted a little when they arrived at his Master’s mansion. He followed Castien into the house, immediately at ease in the familiar surroundings.

This was home. Or at least the closest thing to a home Eridan had ever had. Well, it was likely he’d had a real home before he’d been given away to the Order, but his memories of his early childhood were nearly nonexistent. Eridan thought he remembered a beautiful woman with golden hair, who kissed him goodnight and called him “my little angel.” He also thought he remembered an older boy, a brother, but memories of him were even more confusing.