Page 110 of The Prince's Fealty

It wasn’t quite like coming home, but it felt a bit like it all the same. He’d had nice visits with Ada before, and so the room felt much more personal than an inn—or a tent. Tor hoped they were going to be staying for a few days. If he was doing the math right, it was over a month since he’d stayed in the same place for two nights in a row, not since they’d been in the Tondian castle before they went after the exiles.

Pel looked around himself curiously, taking in the nicely appointed room. It had sturdy furniture, a large canopied bed, and a larger proportion of art made by small children than you’d find in most guest rooms. (It was also on the family floor, making it easier for those early morning bed-jumping incidents.)

“It’s nice,” Pel said, and Tor felt himself relax a little, though he hadn’t even been aware he was awaiting judgment.

It wasn’t like he’d designed the room or picked it out. But this was, if tangentially, the second time Pel had come to visit Tor’s family, and while just about anything would be better than the disaster of their visit to Nexa, Tor admitted to himself that he wanted Pel to like it here, to like his family.

Something of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because Pel came over and wrapped his arms around Tor, who happily hugged him back.

Tucked up against Tor’s shoulder, Pel asked, “Are we giving your brother a couple of days to settle?”

Ah, yes. Because things weren’t actually completely settled for them. Tor had let the familiar setting lull him into a false sense of security.

He sighed. “Yes, I think so. Unless he decides that he really wants to talk about it sooner. I know it’s super important, but I think everyone could use a few days to relax without any drama, and I don’t want to introduce more at exactly the wrong moment.”

Because it seemed to go without saying that Tor was full of drama. He’d argue that a bunch of this really wasn’t his fault this time, but… some of it definitely was.

Pel simply nodded, though Tor could feel the little thrum of tension through him, like he wasn’t totally relaxed.

Tor simply refused to entertain the possibility that he could be executed for treason. (Was he still an escaped prisoner? Technically, he had to be.) It definitely needed to be dealt with… just not right now.

Tor tightened his hold on Pel. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me. Maybe we can pretend this is a holiday together?”

Pel laughed. “Yes, let’s try that.”

So that was what they did.

Actually, that seemed to be what everyone was doing. Not quite pretending the events of the last week hadn’t happened, but pushing it away for a bit so that they could focus on the here and now without any complications.

The complications didn’t actually leave them, of course. In the morning, someone always looked heavy-lidded and sleep-deprived. (And not in the fun way.) But they ate regular meals and read books and took walks outside and played with the children, reminding themselves that this was normal and they were, indeed, at peace.

Stronex held several days of open court to address issues that had arisen while he was gone. Tor had never really imagined Solil as a ruler, but he didn’t know him that well. It was strange to think that he was now set to inherit the crown in Lotar.

But he seemed kind and amiable—in a real way, not like Nostex—and he declared himself perfectly content to go spend some time with Pamexa, Nawila, Rin, and Terila.

“You’re sure they don’t mind?” he wanted to know.

“Rin said specifically that he was looking forward to seeing you again,” Tor assured him.

Solil beamed, and Tor reflected that genuine amiability and a desire to assist others was probably exactly what they needed in the United Realms right now.

It took Tor a couple days before it occurred to him to ask his sister, “Did you want to Tendril?”

They were reading in one of the sitting rooms, curled up on the couch together because Ada liked having contact with someone. It made Tor wonder just how touch-deprived she’d been before, and he was doubly grateful for Hena and Par, who’d filled at least some of that gap in her life.

(But he was beginning to think Thurnil hadn’t died slowly enough.)

The children were doing something super secret with their father. They’d announced that. They were so not subtle; Tor loved it. Tor had been trying to make sure that Ada wasn’t alone, and since Var and Stronex seemed to be doing the same thing, it was working quite well.

(He might also have been asked to keep her distracted this afternoon, but he’d never tell.)

Her brow furrowed.

“Like we did as kids,” he offered. “I thought maybe you’d like that now. Sorry if that’s foolish.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm. “No, that’s a really nice offer. It’s been a long time since I thought about Tendrilling and Blending as anything but unpleasant, but that would actually be really nice.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want to be afraid of it.”

Tor held out his hand and let his magic fill him, spilling out so that it danced around his fingertips. Ada drew in several deep breaths, and a moment later, her own magic was visible, writhing around her hand.