Page 7 of By Mistake
Farthing.Oresti's hands curled into fists.That nasty little cretin, he should have known.Farthing always wantedmore more more, be it money or property or flesh, and he didn't care whether or not people agreed to give it to him.Oresti had been trying to pin the bastard for years, but he always wriggled free like the worm he was.
"Drink," Greivs said, pushing a mug into Oresti's hands."I know you weren't home long enough to get a proper meal, and I doubt you ate all day while you were running around trying to solve everyone's problems."
Oresti narrowed his eyes."I get enough grief from my siblings; I don't need it from you, too."
Greivs just grinned."There's food, both of you eat it.Honestly, you have a lot of nerve fussing over other people while letting yourself fall over half the time."
"Shut up," Oresti muttered, even as he did as told, though that was mostly so that Andrus would as well."Why does Farthing want your home so badly?"
Andrus shrugged one shoulder."I honestly don't know.There's nothing special about my house, save for the sordid tale of my great grandfather.At this point, I'm lucky it's still standing.Soon it won't be my problem anymore, even if—" He stopped and shook his head.
Oresti didn't press him; he didn't really need to.
Decades ago, Andrus's great grandfather, Lord Sendrus Bothwell, had assassinated Crown Prince Kolik.That death was the whole reason that Oresti's family line was on the throne now, instead of the branch of the family that had ruled since practically Esaria's founding.
It was a story Oresti knew well, a lesson in never trusting anyone, not even those you called your best friend.Maybe it was the investigator in him, but the whole sordid tale had never sat well.Sendrus and Kolik had been in the military together, had survived battles together, had shared death and grief and permanent injury side by side.Rumors had abounded they were actually lovers, but unable to be so publicly because of marital obligations on both sides.
He'd read Kolik's journals, and other journals and accounts from that time.He would never entirely believe that Sendrus had murdered Kolik; it simply didn't make sense.But ancient murder mysteries weren't his problem, not unless his father commanded it, and he'd always told Oresti to leave well enough alone.These days, he was too busy with current problems anyway.
"This house must belong to you, though."
"Doesn't matter if I can't pay property taxes," Andrus replied bitterly.
Oresti winced inwardly because that should have occurred to him.They must be years in arrears.He didn't bother trying to ask, though.He sensed he'd already gotten Andrus to say more than he ever did to anyone.
Instead he looked around the kitchen, taking note of what was there, and more importantly what wasn't there."Do you have enough firewood?Is there anything else I can bring you?"
"I'm fine," Andrus said."As I have told you more than once by now, I'm not your responsibility.I'm twenty-three.I've been doing this a long time."
Oresti held his hands up in defeat, even as he plotted what to have delivered over the next few days.When Andrus looked down at his tea, he shot a smirking Greivs a warning look.Which only turned the smirk into a grin.
Andrus yawned, drawing his attention back, and as strangely reluctant as he was to go, Oresti finished his food and tea before pushing to his feet."We'll leave you to rest.Thank you for letting me see you again.Can I push my luck and visit you tomorrow, or perhaps the day after?"
Giving him a faintly amused look, Andrus said, "Do as you please, Investigator.I don't know when I'll be home tomorrow as I have to… go out…" He looked briefly exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with needing sleep."I don't know when I'll be back.But it's not a crime to knock on doors, last I checked."His mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile."If I don't want to answer it, I won't."
Oresti grinned."I'll see you tomorrow then, Lord Bothwell.Pleasant dreams."He winked on impulse, and was entirely too pleased with himself when that earned more flushed cheeks.
Outside, it had begun to drizzle slightly, but Oresti was in such a good mood, he wouldn't care if they were caught in a torrent.
"Never thought I'd see the day," Greivs said as they walked.
"Huh?"
Greivs grinned."The day you fell smitten.You're sweet on him."
"I am not!"Oresti said."I don't have time for such nonsense.Anyway, it's impossible to be smitten with someone so quickly."
"Tell that to your father.How long did it take him to propose to your mother?"
Oresti's mood plummeted."Three months.And a month of illness to lose her."Oresti had been twelve when his mother had passed, wasting away a day at a time, until there was very little left of her by the end.
People loved to call his father's wives the Cursed Queens.The first had died from an overfondness of her 'medicinal powder,' the second had taken a nasty fall from her horse, and his mother had been destroyed by illness.
The only thing people loved more was trying to pit him and his siblings against each other, as though because they had different mothers they should naturally hate each other.As though they hadn't all endured the brutal loss of their mothers as children, as though they hadn't seen their father grieve each one, as though they didn't put up with the same nasty rumors.
His eldest sister was a magnificent crown princess.His brother was well on his way to becoming commander of the entire army.His second-eldest sister was one of the best mages in the whole of Esaria, and his baby sister could dance circles around the most experienced diplomats.And Oresti was perfectly happy with his covert work.They were a team, the five of them.Every drama stirred up by the court just made their bond stronger.
Greivs squeezed his arm affectionately, smiling softly when Oresti looked at him."What's next on our to do list for the night?"
