Surah took the deep armchair across from him. “Maybe if you grew up a bit, we wouldn’t all feel the need to motheryou.”
“Do you understand why half your nobles are begging me to depose you?” Malin asked. “Are you even taking this seriously? You shouldn’t have come here,Geza.”
The younger male’s eyes rose to meet Malin's. “And why not? My older brother would never betray me–at least not without a fair warning. You haven’t given me fair warning, so why shouldn’t I comehere?”
Malin sighed, began to pace. “I blame myself, mostly, for how you’ve turnedout.”
Geza swished the wine in his glass, eyelids lowering. “Am I such a disappointment,then?”
“You don’t apply yourself,” Surah said. “You spend too much time wenching and drinking and not enough timeworking.”
The Prince snorted. “I don’t spendnearlyenough time wenching and drinking. Do you know this is the first time in my life no one can tell me what todo?”
“That’s naive,” Malin replied,stiffly.
“Don’t be such a fucking martyr, Malin,” Geza snapped. “Everyone already feels sorry that you pulled the short end of the genetic stick–you don’t have to milk it for all it’sworth.”
“I didn’t approach the rebels to take the throne–they came tome.”
Geza rose, setting the glass down with a click. His expression hardened. “And you should have told them, unequivocally, no–instead you’re entertaining them, giving them notions that you’ll actually go through with it. So I’m here to ask you,brother,are you going to go through with it? Are you going to try and kill me and take mythrone?”
Silence descended. Surah watched her mate and her brother, wanting the answer to the question as much asGeza.
“It's not that simple,” Malin saidfinally.
Geza snarled, wings rustling. “That pussy non-answer tells me all I need to know. I’ll meet you on the battle court,Malin.”
