31. Florian

Chapter 31

Florian

I could feel the tension around me, heavy in the air. Moving my body, even to breathe, felt like I was trying to swim. Like the air was somehow thicker than it was supposed to be.

Cove was struggling. I could see the sweat on his brow as he stared at Father, even if that was the only outward sign. It was more than he usually gave away with his glacial demeanor. At least Father seemed to be having the same amount of trouble, far easier to see with the vein on his forehead throbbing in time with the rage in his eyes, and the way every muscle in his body was tensed with effort.

His expression was the worst of all. His jaw clenched, teeth bared, and nose scrunched in a snarl that made him look almost feral. Father was never a beautiful man, something I’d well and truly taken to heart, since everyone was always saying how much I looked like him, but in that moment, he looked monstrous. Unhinged.

He wanted Cove dead more than he’d ever wanted anything in the world.

It was all eye-opening, in a strange way.

Part of me had thought that if this happened, if Father and Cove were too evenly matched for one to easily prevail, that I could simply draw my sword, swoop in, and gut the bastard myself. But my hand froze on my sword hilt, and I couldn’t do it.

No one was stopping me. No luck stones slid against my mind, trying to force me into inaction. No time stones froze me in place. No person stood in my path.

It was just me.

Was I a coward? No. I wasn’t afraid.

I just...didn’t want to murder someone. Not even my father. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be—the person who rushed in and gutted a distracted man.

Courtney, on the other hand, had no such compunction.

Teeth bared, he came at me, knife in his hand.

It looked like a steak knife stolen straight from someone’s dining set, with only one wickedly serrated edge. Had he armed himself in a dining room? It wouldn’t be a surprise, I supposed, as Navia and I neatly slipped out of his way, letting him lunge past, then turning to face him where he stopped behind us.

It almost seemed unfair to draw my sword, but it was the weapon I had. I’d brought it—of course I had—but I hadn’t brought a dagger. I certainly hadn’t brought a steak knife. The largest part of me had expected to get out of this mess without having to actually fight anyone. Not because I didn’t think Father would put up a fight, obviously, but because...because I didn’t want to fight at all.

Me either , came a sigh in my head. It was thready, almost hoarse, and so very sad. Don’t like it. Always fighting. Always angry. Always mean. Make them fall down, make them break a bone, make them hurt. So tired of hurting.

The words resonated deep down in my soul, not just because they clearly came from a stone whose song I could hear, but because I agreed, on every level. I was so fucking sick of my family and their bullshit. The way they made everything about hurting someone else. It was like they couldn’t win unless someone else lost.

Life wasn’t a fucking zero sum game.

If we weren’t selfish assholes, we could all win.

Everyone could be happy.

Joy? the voice asked.

Didn’t that sound fucking amazing? Joy. Yeah, that was what I wanted. Me and Fawn and Cove and the people we all loved, living in the estate house together. Or anywhere, really. A shack on the beach. That would be fine, as long as we were together. We could all just live our lives, making each other happy. The only luck anyone would need was good luck.

Yes , the voice whispered, shaking with the sheer emotion it packed into the word. Joy .

Courtney spun to face me but hung back, since I now had a few feet of reach on him, and a much more dangerous weapon than the one in his hand.

“You could just leave,” I told him. “Run back home to your awful mother and pretend you never did this incredibly unintelligent thing. I won’t even come after you if you leave now.”

He hissed at me. Honest to fucking emeralds hissed , like he was a snake. “I’m the heir now. I won’t let you steal my birthright from me.”

I blinked at him, momentarily confused, and he took the opportunity to slash at me with his steak knife. I brought my sword back up, scraping the edge of it along the serrations of his little blade, and he leaped back muttering about me having an unfair advantage. “You brought a steak knife to a sword fight, you ass. And you don’t have a birthright. Your mother has wasted every penny she ever had trying to look more important than she is. What you’re demanding is for me not to steal my birthright from you , because you think you’re owed.”

“He promised!” The words were a shout, some mixture of rage and impotence. More important, knowledge. He knew that father’s promises were worth less than the air he used to speak them. He simply wanted that to not be true.

I shook my head, saddened by the state of my own relatives. “You’re not owed, Courtney. None of us are. You’re just a selfish twat who thinks he has to win by forcing others to lose.”

On the other side of Cove, Frost gave something between a snort and a cough that was probably actually stifled laughter. I wasn’t sure if his brother had said something amusing, or if it was me, but it didn’t matter. I was right.

You are right , the ragged voice in my head whispered. They’re selfish. Bad. Always making others lose. Always bad luck .

“Fuck that,” I said, not bothering to keep the words in my head. “Fuck bad luck. Let’s never do that again. Bad luck is the worst, and it’s not what emeralds are for.”

There was a long pause, like nothing in the world moved for just a second, before the voice spoke again. It was stronger this time, and I felt the pressure of it not only in my head, but in my ears. On my face. In the very air around us all.

“ Yes. Only good luck. Only joy. No more bad luck. Not ever. ”

Had that been out loud? It had sounded like it, and even Courtney paused, looking around in confusion.

But I wasn’t confused. I was having a conversation.

I was having a conversation with Soz.

“Damned right,” I agreed. “Only joy. That’s the only thing that’s worth working for.”

The pressure in the air cracked like a thunderstorm and then fell away, nothing more than raindrops on the wind, and suddenly I could breathe.

Next to me, Cove neatly pulled his sword from its scabbard, the movement smooth and graceful as I’d always imagined it would be. Not a hint of a fumble.

Behind me, my father screeched in rage.