Page 56 of Martyr

Lake’s smile died. “I know.”

Nix searched his expression, but it’d shuttered. “Does that bother you?”

“Yes,” he replied. “But you will. Eventually.”

“Cocky.”

“Confident.” Lake set the holo-pad down and turned to him. “Weren’t you going to sleep?”

“You said West was bringing me tea.”

“Do you even like tea?”

“I like that one. What’s it called?”

“Xuj tea,” Lake told him. “It’s a fruit native to Essence.”

Essence was a neighboring planet. “What’s West’s connection to it?”

“My mother.”

Nix thought he might have misheard. “Yourmother?”

He nodded. “She used to make it for us after school when we were kids. Or whenever West came over crying because his dad missed an event or berated him. It’s sort of become a comfort drink for him because of that. He’s been making it ever since her death.”

Over summer breaks, Branwen’s mom had cut thick slices of yeith melon for the two of them. They’d spend all day outside playing in the woods and then return just as the sun had started to set, already craving the slice they’d each get before dinner. It’d been a ritual that hadn’t changed even once they were too old and the playing pretend amongst the trees had turned into movies at the local theater and trips to the mall.

This past summer, Branwen had been too busy and the two of them hadn’t seen each other. The whole season had come and gone and Nix hadn’t had a single slice of yeith melon. He hadn’t even thought about it.

“You and West have a complicated relationship,” he said, mostly to distract himself from his tumultuous thoughts, and to keep Lake from asking about it. The Imperial was already giving him a funny look, so he must have picked up on something crossing over Nix’s expression.

For a moment, it seemed like Lake wasn’t going to let him get away with it, but then he sighed. “West is my brother. Family is always complicated.”

“Says the guy who was just telling me about how boring his family history is,” Nix replied in an off-handed tone. No one would truly consider Lake’s history boring. Orphaned at a young age, abandoned by his uncle, and then this only remaining living blood relatives die mysteriously? “All they’ve told the public is the Emperor and the Royal Consort both got sick. Is that really what happened?”

Lake cocked his head. “What do you think?”

“Before? I didn’t think anything of it. Now?” He grunted. “There’s got to be more to it. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of?”

“If someone can get to the Emperor, they can get to you.”

The Imperial stood and came over, settling down on the bed at Nix’s side. He reached out and brushed a coil of his blond hair off his forehead, tentatively at first, as though he thought Nix might push him away.

At this point, why bother?

He was too exhausted to fight with Lake for no reason.

Besides, he preferred him this way. When it was just the two of them and hushed tones. It felt intimate, but not in a sexual sense. Felt like there was something real between them. Something more.

“Don’t worry,” Lake said. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“That’s not at all what I was saying.”

“So,” he smiled, “promise you won’t let anyone hurt me either if you’re so concerned for my safety.”

“I’m not.” Stubbornly, he looked away.

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