"Since I've had no one else to talk to. And, since you said you weren't sure you could trust her, Darian. You're my only real family."
Darian said nothing, unaware of how much his brother missed him until this moment. The youth was not too far off: Claire had been all Darian wanted to focus on since he'd met her. Their betrothal was short by White God standards, a matter of six days. His own father hadn't mated with his mother for ten years, until after Darian's birth. He'd mated with Claire five months ago. It dawned on him he really hadn't seen much of Damian at all since the ceremony.
As for trusting Claire, there were still days Darian wasn't certain her father wasn't still trying to be the puppet master. He'd heard the same rumors his little brother had, that Claire was sleeping with at least a couple other men. He dismissed them as the idle talk of jealous nobles at court, who'd wanted him to marry one of their daughters instead.
But she'd lied to him about small things. In his family, it would never happen. He excused her behavior, knowing she grew up in a different environment. Even though they made his instincts uneasy, they were harmless lies. At least, he kept telling himself this.
"I'll make up for it, Damian," he said. A full ten years older than his little brother, he'd raised Damian from the age of seven, after the death of their father.
"The court says she has no real Oracle powers," Damian said. "Did you know that before you mated with her?"
"I did," Darian said.
"She's not of much use to the White God."
"She pleases me."
"That won't defeat vamps."
"Wise, content leaders with bloodlines as good as ours will," Darian said with a smile.
"And warriors," Damian added.
"Exactly."
"You really want to send me to the Guardians?"
"It's your choice. If you wish to go, go. If not, then stay."
"There are a lot of adventures to be had outside of here," Jule said.
Damian appeared pensive as he responded to Darian's playful strikes. Darian wasn't sure what his little brother would decide. The boy had a wild streak that overcame his sense of decorum too often and landed him in duels every other day. He was also a favorite with Darian's advisors and court, with a knack for connecting with everyone, even the servants. Damian's wine goblet was never empty during the day, and he always had well-cared-for boots and more fresh flowers in his room than Darian. Despite his attempt to look down on the peasants, Damian had befriended many of them. He had a streak of honor that marked him the son of a White God as much as his golden eyes.