Chapter 217: I’ll make sure to chase the new sun

One hour later...

Julian sat at the breakfast table, trying to focus on his porridge, but his mind kept drifting back to Zane’s amber eyes for no other reason aside from the fact that it somehow reminded him of the late Empress.

They were not related.

The relation to the Empire’s throne was through Alaric’s birth mother, who had been a princess from the south.

So, why did his eyes remind him of the late Empress?

Across from him, Lucius was eating with a strange, quiet intensity. The boy was observant; he had clearly picked up on the shift in the manor’s energy.

Lucius looked up, his pale eyes meeting Julian’s. He didn’t reach for his slate. Instead, he simply tilted his head, his gaze drifting toward the door as if someone would barge in at any moment.

He had seen the delegation from the manor windows and had taken note of the particular flamboyant peacock.

Who is the bright man? Lucius seemed to ask with a lift of his brow.

Julian took a moment to piece what he was saying together and then answered,

"Your father’s cousin, Lucius, and your Uncle," Julian said, forcing a small smile. "A very loud, very golden uncle. But you don’t need to worry about him. He’s just... visiting." 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Lucius didn’t look convinced. He looked at his father, who was brooding over a cup of black coffee, then back at Julian. He picked up his slate and finally wrote something:

[He smells like the Sun, my other uncle. I don’t like it.]

Julian nearly choked on his tea. Even the child knew. The ’Sun’ of the Empire had tried to burn them, and now a new, Southern sun was knocking at the door.

"Well, I don’t know what to say to that, but I believe we’ll need to be hyper aware of our heads from now on," Julian said, and the boy tilted his head in confusion. "It means we need to try not to get burned by the sun, so watch your head."

Lucius’ eyes twinkled with understanding, and he nodded right away, quite frantically. It was cute.

"You don’t need to worry about getting burned." Alaric finally said, his voice heavy. "I’ll make sure to chase this new sun away before then."

The Duke didn’t look up from his coffee, but the steam rising from the cup seemed to carry the same frost that coated the courtyard outside.

"The South doesn’t understand boundaries," Alaric continued, finally meeting Julian’s gaze. "They see everything as an extension of their own desert. Zane is here to test the waters, Julian. He wants to see if the ’Saint’ is as valuable as the rumors say."

"Lucien, did you know about the Saint rumor?" Julian asked, and after two seconds of thinking, the Duke nodded. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I felt it didn’t matter. It was irrelevant if the world saw you as a saint or not, because you are not leaving the North for anywhere else." That was his reason, and while it was fair, Julian felt he should’ve at least known.

But if he had known, what would it have changed?

This was why Alaric did not want to tell him about it. Things like this made Julian’s mind race unnecessarily.

Julian set his spoon down, the porcelain clinking softly against the bowl.

"Prince Zane mentioned the Pope, Lucien. I’m guessing the light from the trial was a really big deal. If word has reached the Sultanate, then it’s reached everyone."

Zane was far too unpredictable. He was loud, vibrant, and wore his curiosity like a suit of armor. And those kinds of people, like Alaric said, did not have boundaries.

Just so he could satisfy his curiosity, he would cross every line drawn in front of him.

Across the table, Lucius tapped his slate again, drawing Julian’s attention.

[Is the bright uncle a teacher too?]

Julian smiled, almost laughing. Imagine Zane as a teacher... the class would be in chaos. Who was teaching whom?

"No, Lucius. I don’t think Prince Zane has the patience to be a teacher. He’s more of a... collector. But don’t you worry. Your lessons will stay exactly as they are."

Lucius nodded, though he cast a weary glance toward the heavy doors of the dining hall. The boy’s intuition was sharp; he knew that when ’bright men’ arrived, they usually brought shadows with them.

The rest of the morning was spent in a restless sort of domesticity. Alaric retreated to his study with Kaelen to discuss border security, leaving Julian to guide Lucius through his arithmetic.

By the time the afternoon sun hit the library, Julian was alone. Lucius had gone for his nap, and the manor felt unnervingly still.

Julian sat at his desk, the Chronicles of Astrea open before him. He was trying to focus on the passage about the ’Golden Sand,’ but the words were swimming with symbols he could not decipher.

Even pouring all of his intellect and focus, he could not get anything out of it. And now, it was starting to give him a headache.

"It’s rude to ignore a guest, Master Julian."

Julian jolted in shock, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He turned around right away to see Zane leaning against the bookshelf, his leopard-fur cloak discarded to reveal a tunic of embroidered silk that looked far too thin for the drafty library.

"You... Prince Zane," Julian breathed, his hand instinctively covering the purple-glow of the book’s title. "Why are you here?"

His heart was hammering violently from the shock, as he had just been caught in a secret.

"You were supposed to be in the guest wing. There are guards stationed there."

"Guards?" Zane laughed, a sound like clinking gold coins.

He strolled forward, his amber eyes scanning the titles on the shelves with a bored sort of interest.

"Northern guards are like Northern winter—predictable. I’ve been slipping past shadows since I could walk, Scholar."

He stopped at the edge of Julian’s desk, looming over him. Up close, he didn’t just smell like expensive oils; he smelled like heat.