A few hours passed after that commotion. Julian ate his breakfast, had his painkillers, and a bloody concoction he couldnât even recall how he swallowed. And now, he had begun to watch Lucius scribble on a large parchment, a few things that made sense and didnât make sense at the same time.
He watched Lucius with interest, glad that his pupil wasnât slacking off.
And then, he raised his gaze to look towards the balcony window where the Duke was sipping tea after a light snack.
The Duke has a sweet tooth.
He had discovered.
He ate a couple of macaroons first and then had a parfait. He offered some to Julian, but Julian declined. He could already see where the parfait scene was going.
After all that commotion, he thought something crazy would happen next. Like the emperor coming in person or sending guards to drag them away, but nothing happened. It was just quiet, and he loved the silence.
The afternoon sun began to dip, and Lucius began to feel sleepy. Julian watched him, assuming it was time for his afternoon nap.
"Come here, Lucius," he called, tapping the bed at his good side, and Lucius got up from the floor. He sluggishly walked up to the bed, got up ad laid by Julianâs side, his small hand tucked under Julianâs arm.
Julian watched him, thinking once again about how adorable he looked. He stroked Luciusâs hair and let him sleep comfortably. But just when Julian felt he could close his eyes for a few minutes, a sound came.
It wasnât a knock, but the distant, unmistakable blare of a royal horn at the estateâs outer gates.
Julian turned his gaze to the balcony, as if he would be able to see what was going on just by looking from there.
Duke Alaric tightened his grip on his teacup until it cracked. Who was it this time? Who was disturbing this quiet and peaceful moment?
He stood up and walked out to the balcony. Below, a carriage bearing the gold-and-black crest of the Viremount throne had pulled up, flanked by a dozen riders in silver plate.
The Duke frowned at the sight of this.
"He didnât even wait for the sun to set," He muttered and then turned back to Julian, his expression turning hard. "The Emperor has sent a formal escort. An annoying summons."
Julian tried to sit up, but the sharp flare of pain in his leg pinned him back to the pillows. "Your Grace," he called worriedly.
He didnât like the sound of this one bit.
"Itâs fine, Julian," he said as he began to head for the door.
"But..." he pursed his lips. He didnât want the Duke to go, and it was written all over his face.
The duke appreciated the worry, but even if he could ignore the summons, he didnât want to. He needed to see his brother face-to-face and finally confront him.
"I have to go, Julian."
He gave one long, lingering look at Julian and said, "The bell, make sure to ring it if you have any problems. This time, Lucius is with you, so you are not alone."
The last thing he wanted was for Julian to have a fear seizure.
He walked to the bed, leaning over Julian and brushing his cheek with his rough thumb.
"I will be back. Do not let anyoneâanyoneâinto this room. My knights will be at the door, so even if your father tries to enter, they have orders to treat him as an intruder."
With one last look at his son, Alaric strode out.
Julian stayed there, staring at the door as if the Duke would suddenly walk back in. It was all a mess now. So much mess that he dint know how things were going to go back to normal.
He looked at his bandaged leg and bit his bottom lip in spite. If only he hadnât fallen into that pit, they wouldnât be in this situation.
And once again, he blamed his carelessness, but... Was it really his carelessness, though?
The Duke got to the palace and marched without stopping, heading to the hall where the Emperor was likely waiting for him.
But when he pushed the double doors open with a heavy thud, he didnât find his brother on his throne. Instead, he was standing by the high balcony, looking out over the forbidden garden. He didnât turn even when he knew the Duke had arrived.
The heavy thud of the double doors was the only warning Aurelian received before Alaricâs shadow stretched across the marble floor. The Duke didnât stop until he was exactly ten paces behind the throneâa distance that felt less like protocol and more like a tactical evaluation.
"Youâve grown arrogant in the North, Lucien," Aurelian said, his voice smooth, carrying a deceptive lightness as if they were discussing the weather rather than a diplomatic insult. "To humiliate the Sanctumâs healers is to humiliate the crown that sent them."
"I protected a member of my household from unwanted interference," Alaric replied, his voice like grinding stone. "That is my right as a Grand Duke."
Aurelian finally turned. He searched Alaricâs face, looking for the usual stoicism, but instead, he found a cold, piercing gaze that stripped away every lie. Alaric didnât speak the words, but his eyes said it clearly:
I know what you did. I know you let Julian for dead and I am not okay with it.
Aurelian let out a soft, mocking sigh, leaning back against the stone railing as if the weight of Alaricâs silent accusation was merely a minor annoyance.
"He didnât die in the end, did he? So what is the issue, Lucien?" Aurelian asked, spreading his hands with a casual shrug.
The Duke frowned, his brows knitting together.
"What?"
"Oh, I just assume your little tutor reported that he saw me when he was dying in the pit, and I wasnât gracious enough to help him," he brazenly stated, no sign of remorse in his tone. "I assume thatâs why youâre throwing a tantrum here and there, Brother."
This displeased the Duke far more than heâd like it to. Where was his shame?
At this point, he might actually believe it if someone tells him the Emperor had dug that pit and waited for Julian to fall inside so he could smile at the dying manâs face. He clenched his fists.