Family of Lies: Sebastian (41 page)

Trenton glared at him. “I’ll use my own magic to finish him.”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian said as he raised his hand and pointed at Trenton. Like a candle snuffing out, the amulet went dark, and the world’s magic at his fingertips disappeared. Sebastian blinked. “Seriously?”
I want you to work, and now you fucking turn off?

“Sebastian, my lovely, when I deal with you, you’ll wish you were still under that love spell,” Trenton said as the floor buckled under the strength of his gathering power.

As Sebastian watched, Turren’s legs steadied, and he roared as his sword’s flames burst out anew. The flaming sword became a conflagration that blocked out Trenton’s magic. Turren swung his blade at the wizard, and a line of magic erupted from the sword. Magical flames cut through Trenton and continued into the wall. There was a loud cracking sound and the wall collapsed. Trenton fell to the floor in two pieces.

“Bastian!” Turren cried out and dropped his sword. He ran to Sebastian and sprawled next to him. “Are you all right? I’m sorry he almost overcame me. You hit the wall so hard, and I couldn’t think properly.” Turren brushed Sebastian’s hair out of his eyes. “Are you all right?” Tears filled Turren’s eyes, and Sebastian sighed.

“I had him, you idiot. Why do you always have to do everything the hard way?”

Turren grinned from ear to ear. “You’re just fine.” He frowned. “I think I used too much magic.” Turren’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he passed out.

Sebastian quickly checked for a pulse. The prince’s heart beat fiercely, and to prove his worries foolish, Turren began snoring. Sebastian shook his head but winced when pain arced across his temple. “How can you be such an idiot?” He leaned forward and kissed Turren gently.

“Isn’t that just the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen, James?” Kevin asked from the doorway.

“The prince and his adorable grumpy pants,” James said, nodding. “They’ll write tales about those two.”

“Shut up and get someone to heal me,” Sebastian said.

“Right away, my lord,” Kevin said. He shouted into the hall. “Sebastian’s safe and sharing an intimate moment with the prince.”

“What!” Alice shouted in outrage.

“It’s fine, Mama,” May said from the hall. “The prince beat the shithead’s friend, so he’s allowed to kiss Uncle Sebastian.”

“I don’t care who he beat!” Alice walked into the room with an arrow notched and looked down at the two men. She rolled her eyes and slapped Kevin upside the head.

Pratchett shoved his way into the room and whistled at Trenton’s body. “Sebastian might be marrying a man worse than Mernon the Black.”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian asked.

James smiled. “That’s a conversation for when we have privacy. By the way, Cecilia is here, and she’s madder than a hornet that we kept the Trenton business a secret from her.”

“I thought she would be in labor by now,” Sebastian said.

“She was or did,” Kevin said. “But she was so worried about us that she made Berados magic a wagon that could carry her and the baby without jostling them.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared,” Sebastian said.

Pratchett snorted. “I always choose the latter with her.”

S
EBASTIAN
STRETCHED
his hands over his head while Queen Anne transferred her energy to Turren. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Queen Anne smiled. “My boy loves you dearly, and I like you. We wouldn’t forgive ourselves if we failed today.”

“I don’t normally glorify death, but the way Turren cleaved him in two leaves me satisfied.”

“The ridiculous thing about this whole situation is that the soul binding wouldn’t have worked for long,” Lord Orwell said from a nearby chair. “I tried to tell him, but Trenton only listened to himself.”

Turren’s eyes opened and he smiled weakly. “I’m not dreaming. You’re safe?”

Sebastian stroked Turren’s hair. “Yes, you brash fool, I’m safe.”

“It’s only brash if I fail. I succeeded, so it’s bravery,” Turren said.

“Not just brave,” Lord Orwell said. “I was frightened that none of us could beat Trenton, but you surprised me, young man. If your intentions are honorable toward my son, I will respect both your wishes.”

“Let things between our sons run their natural course instead of trying to force a union,” King Harris said.

“My son’s reputation is probably ruined by that farcical marriage. We may know that Trenton kidnapped my family and threatened to kill all the priests, but others will talk. There aren’t too many with notable backgrounds who would have my son after this.”

“Sebastian is innocent and I won’t let rumors spread.” Turren sat up. “But.” He placed Sebastian’s hands in his. “I will give you all the time you need, because I will never force you to marry me.”

“I know,” Sebastian said. He gently kissed Turren and reached into his pants pocket. His cloak hadn’t been found, but his clothes had been with the Orwells’ belongings. He pulled out the sapphire ring and slid it on his finger. “That’s why I accept your proposal.”

“Wait a minute. How long have you had that ring?” Lady Orwell asked.

“Since before Father’s old friend paid us a visit,” Sebastian said.

Lady Orwell blinked. “You received a proposal from a prince and needed to think about it?” She shook her head and stared at him.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m trying to solve where your father and I went wrong in rearing you.”

N
OW
THAT
both of them were on their feet, Sebastian had to visit Cecilia. He needed a cloak to go outside.

“Sebastian?”

“Hm?” Sebastian mumbled.

Turren whipped off his royal robe and laid it on Sebastian’s shoulders. “Do you mind?” he asked. Sebastian shook his head, and Turren tied the robe in place.

It was heavy and lined with fur. Sebastian tugged the hood over his head, and Turren grabbed its ends. Golden sigils appeared on the cloth and disappeared. Sebastian touched the spell with his magic, and it was identical to Ophelia’s work. “You didn’t tweak anything, and you still can’t see me.”

“Whomever you want to see you is your choice, and even though I made the new spell, I should have your permission too. But I didn’t increase its magic so I can still touch you,” Turren said as he brushed his hand down Sebastian’s cheek.

“Ah, there’s my disobedient prince.” Sebastian smiled under his hood. He grabbed Turren’s neck and kissed him, removing the memory of Trenton’s lips.

“Let’s go meet the last Orwell.”

“U
M
, S
EBASTIAN
,
what are you doing?” Turren looked over his shoulder as Sebastian dug through the pockets of uncollected dead soldiers.

“Mercenaries travel to many countries, making it hard to track the owners of their loot. Their treasure is usually distributed among people who’ve killed them.”

“You never seemed interested in jewelry before,” Turren said.

“It’s not for me,” Sebastian said as he moved on to another body. “Ah-ha!” He held up a large emerald ring. “This will do.” He stood just as footsteps entered the hall.

“What are you doing here?” Lord Orwell asked.

Sebastian frowned at his larger stomach. “Why am I not surprised that you’re stealing from the living?”

“Excuse me?”

“Those are liquor bottles, and I’m pretty sure they belong to the temple. They were coerced into helping Trenton, so you don’t have a legitimate reason to steal from them.”

“If I had a legitimate reason, they wouldn’t be stuffed in my coat,” Lord Orwell said. “Besides, there will be plenty on these ruffians to cover all damages.”

Turren looked at them and frowned. “I think we should see your sister while I have some plausible deniability left.”

“That is wise,” Sebastian said.

S
EBASTIAN
KNOCKED
on the carriage door, and his marriage-brother bade them to enter. Inside, faint magelight lit Cecilia sitting against a bedframe with a babe in her arms. Even so soon after childbirth she was gorgeous: violet eyes and black hair inherited from their father’s side, and a petite body that hid a personality as strong as Diana’s.

“You broke our record, Sebastian,” Cecilia said.

“Ten years without a kidnapping attempt.” Sebastian shrugged. “Father gets full blame for this incident.”

“The scoundrel has grown into quite a man.” Cecilia smiled as she looked at Turren. “Broad shoulders and everything.” She smirked. “But my husband is bigger.”

Berados stretched his huge hand over Cecilia’s legs without disturbing their baby and held it out to Turren. “I’m Berados of the Brog clan.”

Turren grasped it warmly. “I will be forever grateful to your clan for your perfect timing. I didn’t know if we would save him in time.”

“She was sure that you were in danger, and while a few of the Orwells can be insensitive, not all of them would miss her first birthing.”

Sebastian nodded. “Even Diana has been to all of Alice’s births.”

“Which brings me back to you asses. How dare you keep me in the dark? Ophelia’s death vision coming true, and not one damn message.” Cecilia’s lips trembled. “My whole family could have been killed, and I’m left ignorant thinking Pratchett got everyone too drunk to leave the house.”

Sebastian leaned down and looked closely at his new niece. She had her father’s wider-than-human cheekbones and freckles. “Don’t be so negative and tell me her name.”

Cecilia’s smile returned. “Mabel after Berados’s aunt. They’re closed for now, but she has Auntie’s dark brown eyes with orange flecks. They remind me of the stones by the lake that Diana chips off for healing tonics. So many hours of labor alone, but she was worth it.”

Sebastian frowned. “They probably spoiled you rotten because they felt sorry for us not being there.”

“I was in the process of being spoiled, but you louts wouldn’t answer any mirrors,” she hissed, and the baby girl woke up crying.

“Let me hold her.” Berados held out his arms.

“You traveled nonstop for days and then fought a battle. Sebastian needs to take responsibility,” Cecilia said.

“No,” Sebastian said. “We are not doing Quiet Time.”

“What’s Quiet Time?” Berados asked.

“I have been forced to do it four times. Berados has a troll’s stamina. He’s perfectly fine to hold Mabel.”

“Sebastian, take off your hood,” Cecilia demanded as Mabel’s cries grew louder.

“Fine!” Sebastian took off his hood, and Mabel quieted instantly. She stared at Sebastian in wonder, and Cecilia sighed in relief.

“Wow,” Berados said. “That’s the quickest she’s calmed down.”

“It lasts among the children until they turn five or six, and then Sebastian is just another uncle,” Cecilia explained. “It works even better when he’s holding them. You may take her, Sebastian, and let us sleep,” she said while holding out her child.

Sebastian sighed and carefully took the tiny baby. “Only today am I doing it for free.”

Cecilia laughed. “No, little brother, all this drama is worth at least a year of Quiet Time. And if I go into labor again and you lot aren’t there, half of you better be missing limbs. Now that we have that out of the way, what did you bring me as a birthing gift?”

Turren blinked. “I have nothing.”

“Reach into the inner pocket of the robe,” Sebastian said.

Turren did as ordered and pulled out the emerald ring. “Ohhhhh.”

“H
IS
HAIR
looks fine, Cecilia. Stop messing with it,” Kevin said as they applied final touches to Sebastian’s person.

“I don’t need advice from someone who cuts his hair close to his head just because he’s too lazy to do anything with it,” Cecilia said. She faced Sebastian again. “Now remember, raise your hands slowly, clutch the top of the hood for a few seconds, and then lower it. I want everyone dying with anticipation.”

“It’s a wedding, not a carnival,” Kevin said.

“It’s the only time Sebastian will reveal himself to such a large crowd,” Lord Orwell said. “Stop being a spoilsport.”

“Father, why don’t you say the reason why you want everyone excited?” James asked.

“I get to shut up everyone who calls us frauds and says all my children are plain. It’s a special occasion.”

James rolled his eyes. “The more excited people get, the more money they bet. By the time you’re down the aisle, who knows how much gold will be on the line, and taking your time adds in late betters.”

Sebastian looked at his father. “Twenty percent.”

“What!” Pratchett shouted. “This was my idea!”

Lord Orwell glared at James. “You and your big mouth.”

“Why should you get twenty percent?” Rebecca asked. “You’re walking in a straight line while we’re doing all the real leg work.”

“It’s my face, and there are a lot of drunk rich people out there. Who knows how much they’re willing to lose.”

“When I bet on chariot races, I don’t pay the drivers a cut if my bets pay off,” Pratchett said.

“And you already have your prize,” Demetrius said. “A prince and living in a castle.”

“I could stick my head out that door right now and make the results fair for everyone,” Sebastian said.

“You’re outnumbered, and I can bind you faster than you can use those vines of yours,” Lord Orwell said.

“I don’t care what you do, but if his clothes or hair are mussed, all of you will pay,” Lady Orwell promised. “Sebastian, take fifteen percent and behave.”

“That’s still too much,” Pratchett said.

“Take it or leave it,” their mother said. “I will never advise my children to throw away money even if they’re marrying royalty.”

“We’ll take the deal,” Demetrius said. “But you better sell it properly.”

Sebastian smiled. “I know what I’m doing.”

Cecilia adjusted Sebastian’s robes one more time and carefully placed the hood on his head. “Perfect,” she said.