Page 65 of Bloom


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“No!”

Zacharie jabbed a finger in his direction. “Yes, you did. They were all over the yard!”

“I didn’t know what he was going to do, and what was I supposed to do? Wrestle with him for the cards?”

“Fuck you both!”

Aleric opened his bedroom door and leaned on the doorframe. “This is how I like being woken up. By a spoiled brat’s yelling. It’s even better after I’ve been ill.”

Zacharie clutched the box. The lid was cockeyed, showing the hinges had broken. “Did you look inside before tossing them outside?”

“Yes, I looked.”

The silence stretched out for a long moment with something like shock on Zacharie’s face. Aleric gazed right back with a bland expression. Zacharie turned a whole shade darker before he flung the box. “Fuck you!”

Aleric shut the bedroom door just in time to avoid being hit by the box. Ivory cards flew out and littered the floor, and the lid came off entirely. Jaime lunged for Zacharie who tried to rush his brother and locked his arms around the man.

“That’s enough. It’s time for you to go.”

“Get your hands off of me!”

Jaime hauled him backward. “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome, and-”

“I’ll have you arrested!”

“-I’m not watching you two go at each other’s throats.”

“If you don’t let me go-”

“You’ll rip my head off and make me eat my intestines or whatever. Sure.” Jaime dragged him toward the door despite his kicks. It was like trying to put a cat into a bath. “You're not staying if you’re going to attack Aleric. I don’t think Lord Monet will take your side.”

“I don’t care! A couple of the cards are gone!”

“Too bad.” Jaime forced him out into the hall. “Don’t come back unless you can be polite.”

The rage on Zacharie’s face that a commoner had mouthed off and kicked him out was almost comical.

“One could technically say you're a bastard child,” Aleric shouted just before Jaime got the door shut and locked. “It’s not like I care what you think.”

“Be quiet,” snapped Jaime.

“Don’t tell me to be quiet.” Aleric was snatching up the cards.

Zacharie kicked the door before stomping off, and Jaime waited until his footsteps faded. “Did you have to call him a bastard kid? He’s not really one. You said he was planned.”

“So?” Aleric stood with a wad of cards in one hand. “Whether or not he’s trying to kill me, he’s still a piece of shit, an absolute brat, and an idiot.”

“How about if you don’t rile up the guy with the lord who definitely wants you dead?” Jaime came closer. “He’ll probably whine to Lord Monet now, and your attitude makes you look worse. ‘His big oaf of an aid manhandled me! Waaah!’”

“You try living with that and see how calm you stay.” Aleric grabbed the box and shoved the cards in. Jaime spotted one on the floor that bore a black wolf with blue eyes, and he picked it up. Fenrir, son of Loki. His sapphire-blue eyes seemed to stare right at Jaime. “You have no idea what it’s like to live in fear in your own home and know your Father isn’t safe-”

“Yes, I do! You’re not the only one who's been through shit like this.” Jaime cursed himself for spilling that, especially when Aleric’s eyes narrowed slightly. If Aunt and Uncle were alive and had heard that, they’d be smacking him upside the head.

“And just how would you know what this feels like?”

Jaime’s mind raced to make it sound reasonable with his fake story. “I watched them die. You can’t kill a fever with a sword, bargain with it, or…run away once you have it. It comes in your house, and that’s it. It doesn’t care who you are or that my parents had a little boy. It didn’t care that my Mother was pregnant either. I know what it’s like to be helpless when danger is right fucking there.”

He hadn’t quite meant to mention Mother’s pregnancy either. His words seemed to work since Aleric’s face softened, but only a little bit.