“You.” Aruis seethes, pointing at Casimir. “You leave Aeton alone. Do you hear me? Leave him alone!”
His voice rises, and Valentina looks toward the door. She walks quietly, closing it. We can only pray that the shouting doesn’t cause anyone to come investigate.
Aruis spits at Casimir’s feet. “He was trying to stay away from you. He’s in therapy so that he won’t be some cocksucker like you! You’re ruining him!”
My breath catches in my throat. A hand drifts to Valentina’s mouth as she stifles a gasp. And for once, Casimir doesn’t look as though he’s strong enough to respond. His lip quivers as he takes another reluctant step away, staring at Arius’s spit on the top of his foot.
Red hot anger rushes through my veins, pounding through me with every wild beat of my heart. For a moment, I forget about all my own aches and pains as I witness the devastation written all over Casimir’s face. I stand and my knees start to buckle.
Casimir lifts his hand to stop me, pointing me back onto the couch. I lower but pin a deathly glare on Arius, who doesn’t even turn my way.
“He doesn’t need to be in therapy,” Casimir says quietly but sternly. “There is nothing wrong with him. He’s perfect.”
“He was perfect before you turned him intoone of you. And now look where that has gotten him.” He points to his brother, and Casimir’s gaze softens and lowers to Aeton. “Look what you have done. If he was in his own bed, he would have been fine. Now this is a whole damn mess, and I’m meant to clean it up all over again.” Aruis runs his hands through his hair, sending the blonde strands into disarray. Then his hand moves to his own throat as if he is the one who’d been cut.
Casimir dares to amble forward toward Aeton, angling himself around Arius. He’s stopped as Aruis throws himself in front of Casimir. There are subtle differences between the twins, but what does Casimir feel when he sees the same face he loves on Aeton looking at him with such disgust?
“Don’t touch him. Don’t you fucking look at him. Don’t you dare breathe the same damn air as my brother. Father should have left your bastard-born ass on the streets with your beggar mother.”
“Aruis!” Valentina scolds.
“Shut up!” he bellows in response, pointing a shaking finger at the queen.
Casimir tries to take another step, his hand reaching for Aeton, but Arius is a blur of movement shoving him away. “Stay away from my brother! Go away! Get out of here!” His shouts have risen to a decibel so loud, I swear the castle shudders.
This time, I stand and cross the room, held up by my own throbbing frustration. I place my hand on Casimir’s chest, gently turning him toward the door. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, and every movement he makes is stiff and clumsy.
“Let’s go back to my room and examine the body. Let’s figure out who did this,” I say quietly between us. He dips his chin, and I can see how bloodshot and glassy his eyes are now that I’m at his side. “Thank you,” I murmur to Valentina in passing.
As we open the door and exit, the air is split with Arius’s cry of despair as he crumbles at his twin’s side.
* * *
A sullenness strangles the room. I lean against my door, staring down at the assassin’s body while I wait for a guard to invite Bramwell, if he’s still awake, to join us. Casimir sits on the edge of my bed, his elbows propped on his knees, and his head in his hands. The copper scent of blood isn’t as strong in my room as it was in Casimir’s. It makes breathing that much easier.
“Aruis shouldn’t have said any of those things to you.”
“But what if it’s true?” Casimir covers his face with his hands, curling further into himself. “What if something is wrong with me? Withus? Should I be in therapy too?” He sniffles against his palms, saying much more quietly, “I didn’t even know he was in therapy.”
“There isnothingwrong with you. And there is nothing wrong with Aeton.” I peel away from the door. Despite my reservations, particularly because Aeton and Casimir share the same father, the root of their attraction—that desire to love another man—doesn’t deserve to cause him so much pain.
“Then why are we different? Why does every other man love women in a way that I could never?” His voice is breaking and with it, so does my heart.
“I don’t know why you’re different. But different doesn’t meanwrong.”
He looks up, wiping away a stray tear with a huff. His brows furrow, creating wrinkles across his forehead that aren’t usually there. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the time for my own personal pity party.” He sits up tall, not meeting my gaze. “We need to figure out who sent the assassins so I can personally dismember them.”
My throat bobs as I tuck away this conversation and save it for another time. “Yes, let’s figure this out first and then deal with Arius later.”
A knock at the door tells us that Bramwell has finally arrived. Casimir stands and walks to my window, his back to the door.
“Come in,” I beckon.
Bramwell enters. Unlike us, he is fully dressed in black trousers and a tightly tucked tunic. A thick belt sits at his waist, holding up an arrangement of blades, and perfectly polished boots shine under my bedroom lights. “I helped the guards search the castle,” he says by way of greeting as though he sees the question on my face. “Glad to see you are both in one piece.”
“As am I.” I sigh before finally stepping up to the body. Bramwell is hot at my heels.
I start by looking at the assassin’s hands. Scars cover his hands so thoroughly, it’s almost hard to find any unmarked skin. Under his nails, longer than most males keep theirs, I notice something almost like sand. The nearest beach is not within our own court...
