Family of Lies: Sebastian

by Sam Argent

  “Some of them,” Lord Orwell corrected.

  “If you’re offended, Alice, nothing is stopping you from jumping into your wagon and going back home,” Lady Orwell said as she stood. She walked to the cabinets to remove cups, and James got up to help her.

  When two wine flagons were empty and several glasses were full, Lord Orwell took a deep breath and began his tale. “There were four of us under Master Uvel. He was years past his prime but decided to keep teaching anyway. A mistake on his part, but advantageous for us. No other wizard thought I was worth taking under his wing, and the other three could learn magic without their teacher knowing what kind of monsters they were. Feoras was the self-righteous sort, and he fell for Trenton’s swill like everybody else. Dalia was a murderer, so she didn’t need much persuasion. But I, Caspian Orwell, whose ancestors sold off most of the family land and lost so much of their magic, turned out to be the one with the conscience.” He stared into his goblet that was surprisingly still full and set it aside. “After Master Uvel died, they offered up our services to the highest bidder. They also made it plain that although I had little power, my participation was mandatory.”

  “Then your magic began to fade?” James asked.

  “No, I pretended that my magic faded.” Lord Orwell chuckled. “Only a madman would throw away his livelihood, so they believed me.” All of his children looked at him with shock while Lady Orwell sipped her wine.

  “All this damn time, your magic worked just fine!” Demetrius jabbed his goblet in their father’s direction, almost sloshing drops on Kraven’s shirt. “What about that winter three years ago when the wagon broke down? What about the time I frightened that stupid Tren skunk and you said there was nothing you could do to get the smell off me?”

  “You were wearing enough clothing, and you shouldn’t have been teasing it.” Lord Orwell shrugged.

  Demetrius leaped out of his chair, but Kraven and Diana grabbed his arms. “You’re a useless bastard! I bet you’re lying! You’re nothing but a washed-up old man who can only do parlor tricks! Trenton and whoever left you behind. You’re not better than anybody!”

  “I’m smart enough to remove myself from the company of men and women who probably tried to kill Prince Turren,” Lord Orwell said patiently. “I wonder if fate didn’t intervene and leave me so many stunted children. I doubt many of you would have made the same decision.”

  “Sobriety does wonders for your intelligence. Do you plan on making this a habit?” Sebastian asked.

  “For the time being.” Lord Orwell sighed. “If I don’t get my ducks in a row, we might be dragged into this mess whether we want to be or not. Trenton knows I’m in Larnlyon, and he’s not dumb. We stay away from the castle and Prince Turren.”

  “We can’t avoid King Harris forever. That would make us look even more suspicious,” his wife pointed out.

  “Our family’s safety trumps social climbing, dear.”

  “Are you sure it’s Trenton?” Sebastian asked.

  “I’ve had eyes on him since the last time he walked out our door. Due to recent events in Anerith, I’ve been waiting for him to make a move,” Lord Orwell said.

  “I was beginning to respect you, old man. Are you suggesting we do nothing and hide?” Kevin asked.

  “Um….” James blinked. “I was going to ask the same thing.”

  “I’m all for living privately and letting the royals look after themselves, but you know who attacked Prince Turren. What kind of home will any of us have if Turren dies and our country falls into a civil war?” Kevin asked.

  “Trenton is more powerful than Lord Pasley and the queen. Who exactly do you think stands a chance against him?” Silence met Lord Orwell’s question, and he spread his hands across the table. “Nobody in this family goes near the castle, or you endanger us all.”

  James raised his pointer finger. “Why hide your magic this whole time? Didn’t Trenton stop caring about you?”

  “You notice how you’ve lived almost forty years, and this is the only time we’ve had to worry about my past enemies?” Lord Orwell asked.

  “You say that as if it’s something to be proud of,” James said.

  “It is.” Lord Orwell smiled. “Passing myself off as a harmless, washed-up wizard is my greatest con yet.” He leaned back in his seat. “Now, since I told you ingrates the truth, I expect your full obedience.”

  “WHY DIDN’T Ophelia see it?” Sebastian asked his father after his siblings had gone to sleep. His mother was outside chopping wood. His father was still seated at the table, stroking the cup of wine.

  “It’s been centuries, but she isn’t the first seer to appear in my line. I know a few tricks to dodge her visions, and Ophelia is considerate of my privacy more often than not.”

  “Seeing into the hearts of others. In a way, your magic is a weaker copy of Ophelia’s. How much do you know?” Sebastian stood next to his father’s chair.

  “You should continue hiding your magic until Trenton is out of the country, and I would tell you to sleep in Prince Turren’s bed once if that would lessen your desire, but you were always the sensitive one.”

  “You are a shitty, shitty old man,” Sebastian said. “Why do people call you weak? Whether Trenton admitted it or not, he needed your magic.”

  “My gift is common, and the only thing that separates me from the others is that I had a better teacher.” Lord Orwell shrugged. “If Trenton thought me powerful, he would have killed me years ago. Don’t see Prince Turren. You’ve chosen family before. All I’m asking you to do is continue life as if you never saved the prince. He is nothing to us, and you will endanger Ophelia. He’s exactly the type of person we protect her from, and we don’t need his attention on us.”

  “We both know you’re using her as an excuse.” Sebastian wouldn’t let his father persuade him with guilt.

  “Fine, you care about him. But why should we get killed for your lust?”

  “Why does he deserve to die? So that we can cower?” Sebastian countered. “He’s a good man, and what will happen if Trenton succeeds? It’s not about the throne. Trenton is after him for a reason that has something to do with Anerith. Do you know more?”

  “My old friend had a hand in persuading the former king, Alchone, to kill his own parents.”

  Sebastian grabbed the goblet out of his father’s fingers. He upended it and finished the wine in a few gulps. “Was he the one who turned them to stone?”

  “No. Those kinds of spells are meant more for punishment than for killing. It wasn’t Trenton’s style either. I always assumed it was a wizard settling an old grudge who underestimated Alchone’s practicality and skill with a hammer.”

  Sebastian licked his lips. “If I ask if you know which wizard started that whole mess, would you answer truthfully?”

  “No.”

  “I should have known your well of honesty would dry up soon. I’ll stay away from Prince Turren on one condition.”

  Lord Orwell lifted his chin and glared at his rebellious son. “No.”

  “Take it or leave it.”

  “You mean to tell that damn wizard everything. This is family business, Sebastian!”

  “It’s not my business to let innocent people die. You give me leave to tell Harold, or I’ll ride to the castle tonight.”

  “No contact with the prince?”

  “None.” Sebastian put the empty cup on the table.

  “I liked it better when you had no friends.” Lord Orwell knocked the cup over with his hand.

  “I live to please you and Mother.”

  “Ha! I’m surprised such a great lie doesn’t choke you.”

  Sebastian squinted at Lord Orwell, looking at the shape of his hands and receding hairline. Completely normal down to the size of his damn fingernails, but I know that’s not true. “What are you?”

  “What are you on about now?” Lord Orwell asked.

  “You slipped up, old man. James and Kevin are the only ones who can pick up that pot
ion pot when it’s full. I assumed their abnormal strength was from Mother.” Sebastian tilted his head at Lord Orwell. “But something always bugged me about you two. Despite all of your faults, I know you love each other, so why is Mother unbothered that she’s married to a human with a shorter lifespan?”

  Lord Orwell shrugged. “Your mother is an open-minded woman.”

  Sebastian smiled. “One day you’re going to slip up again.” He turned his back on his father. “Have unpleasant dreams, old man.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “TRENTON KEYES?” Harold asked while he and Sebastian placed a new shipment of books on shelves.

  “Have you heard of him?”

  “Arrogant, powerful, nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to wizards seeking fame. I didn’t know much about him while he was in Larnlyon, but rumors of his crimes in Anerith have reached here. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him that I forgot he and your father shared a teacher.”

  “Why isn’t he imprisoned with King Orsen’s other wizards?”

  Harold pulled off his glasses and removed a cloth from his vest. He breathed on his glasses and wiped the lenses. “Trenton liked to delegate. He made a persuasive case that he was only obeying Orsen’s orders to stay alive. After Orsen killed the other ruling candidates and stole the crown, Trenton said he was too terrified to oppose him.”

  “They bought that?” Sebastian shelved the rest of the romances and dragged another pile of books to his side.

  Harold sighed. “Of course not, but the man is skilled at disposing of witnesses. There was no proof, and the new ruler didn’t want to come to power with his first act being imprisonment without evidence. It doesn’t help the situation that Trenton has accrued a small army over the years, most from Larnlyon. That is part of the reason King Harris intervened in the war and agreed to accept responsibility for Trenton.”

  “And now he’s sending his goons out to kill Prince Turren. Anerith’s king could have at least orchestrated an accident,” Sebastian groused.

  “Are you forgetting the man’s personal army?”

  “They’re probably a band of mercenaries who follow coin and power. Kill the leader and they disperse,” Sebastian said.

  “Love makes you bloodthirsty.” Harold shook his head and continued stocking.

  Sebastian pushed to his feet. “I’ll go open the door because it’s obvious you need fresh air.”

  Harold waved him away. “Off with you, stew in denial.”

  Sebastian meandered his way through the stacks of books on the floor, unlocked the door, and opened it with a quiet click. He repeated the action, and there was still silence. He let it shut a third time and rejoined Harold in the shop. “Your bell is broken.”

  “I’ll check on it later. What are you going to do about Prince Turren? I appreciate you telling me, but those were ridiculous terms your father gave you.”

  “I have taken care of the situation with Turren. We are friends, and he has agreed with my decision.” Sebastian lifted away extra cloth from his sleeve so he could see the bottom shelf titles. “Ah.” He located the correct spot and carefully made space for the book.

  “More like humoring you until you break down. How long do you think he’ll cooperate?”

  “For as long as he wants to have any contact with me.” Sebastian scooted a foot away from Harold and placed a stack of books between them.

  Harold’s glasses slid down his nose, and he stared at Sebastian without saying a word.

  “You’re too young to show that kind of expression,” Sebastian complained, but he moved the books out of the way.

  “Do you have feelings for the man or not?”

  Sebastian’s cloak weighted down his shoulders even though it was magicked to be the least cumbersome to him. “Why does it matter?”

  “Yes or no?”

  Sebastian sighed. “Yes.”

  Harold grinned. “Then I’ll help you capture your prince and try not to involve your family.”

  “Lord Bast! Your bell is broken!” Mr. Jenkins called out to them.

  Thank you, old man, for your perfect timing. “I’ll take care of the customer while you work.” Sebastian jumped to his feet and hoped Mr. Jenkins could keep him busy all day.

  HAROLD AND Sebastian worked side by side, and by late afternoon, had moved to different floors.

  “Sebastian!”

  Sebastian shouted back, “What do you want?”

  “Fourth bookcase, back wall, sixth shelf, middle section, dark blue binder!”

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. The sexual education section? “Why?”

  “Your future needs.”

  “I’ve been educated on the subject.”

  “I doubt that. Just read it while business has died down. It’s better to be prepared,” Harold warned.

  Sebastian rolled his eyes and made his way to the book. “I have no reason to be prepared. Why does a book on male sexual liaisons have to be so huge?” He hefted the book off the shelf and almost dropped it. Sebastian lugged it to Harold’s downstairs desk and sat down. “I know enough to… oh. These are very…. Harold! You did not say they were spelled images!” He quickly looked over his shoulder and made sure the shop was still empty.

  “I do not order second-rate books,” Harold shouted. “Kevin is willing to answer any questions you have if you can’t figure out all of the instructions.”

  “What?”

  “Did I forget to mention that I spoke with Kevin?”

  “Yes, you forgot, you absent-minded wizard!” Sebastian hissed.

  “Are you angry or choking on something? Your voice sounds horrible.” Harold trotted down the steps.

  Sebastian hurriedly closed the book. “Angry, I am definitely angry. People were fine leaving me on my own, but one damn encounter with Prince Turren and suddenly everyone has to help me.”

  “Because underneath that bitter, cranky, and disgruntled attitude is a sweet young man innocent in the ways of love.”

  “Have you been speaking to my father?”

  “I’m hoping your situation doesn’t become that desperate. Why do you ask?”

  “He accused me of being too sensitive for a one-time dalliance with the prince. That’s why he forbade me from seeing him at all.”

  Harold’s lips wrinkled, and he looked as though he had swallowed a frog. “I agree with your father.”

  “That sounded genuinely painful. Perhaps if you stopped worrying about me, you wouldn’t be placed in such a distasteful position. Besides, what’s so special about bedding the prince? Or sex for that matter? Kevin slept around with damn near half the village before he found his husband, Luke. If I bedded the prince, he would be my first, and I doubt that he has the skills displayed in this book.” Sebastian peeked inside the book again and slammed it closed. “All right, he is equally endowed.” Harold raised his eyebrows and Sebastian shrugged. “He wears pants so tight that it leaves little to the imagination, and I had to manhandle him onto his horse. Never mind that, I am a logical man. I should be able to satisfy sexual needs without becoming emotionally engrossed.”

  “Having feelings before the act complicates matters. Please don’t make me side with your father again,” Harold begged.

  “No. You started this foolishness, so you deserve to suffer.” Sebastian left the book on the desk to find more busywork. If he looked at it again, he would probably kick the damn thing. “I don’t care what you or my father says. I’m perfectly capable of having sex with Prince Turren without losing my head.” Sebastian walked around a bookcase and almost bumped into a strange woman, Captain Pembrost, and of course Prince Turren. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Huh?” Harold asked before clearing the corner and bumping into Sebastian. “Why did you… ah. Well, then, I think I’ll retire upstairs.”

  Sebastian wanted to strangle his mentor for abandoning him, but he stood his ground.

  “Long enough to hear what I needed,” Turren said. “I am also willing t
o test your theory.”

  If Turren had been alone, Sebastian would have said damn to the world and struck him with his magic. Unfortunately, there were witnesses, and the strange woman had magic too. “Good day, Your Highness.” Sebastian stalked past them and clipped Prince Turren on his way by, but heard the woman say, “I thought he would be taller and scary.”

  When his hand touched the door, Sebastian roared, “Harold, fix your damn bell!”

  CHAPTER 15

  “IS HE still out there?” Sebastian asked while stuffing his mouth with cinnamon-dusted cookies.

  “Yes, and it’s getting dark. Don’t you think it’s sad that a grown man is hiding behind my apron?” Margaret asked.

  “Shame is a useless emotion.” Sebastian watched her measure out ingredients for the next morning’s baking. “How would you like it if Harold walked in and heard most of your secrets before you had a chance to examine them yourself?”

  “I would feel horrible and wish someone would put me out of my misery, or….” Margaret wiped flour under Sebastian’s hood. “An intelligent friend would tell me I was being foolish and to face my fears.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “Out of all the lessons we gave you, why was tact so hard for you to grasp?” Margaret made shooing motions toward the door.

  “I promised to avoid him.”

  “Nothing to be done about it, because he came to you. The prince standing outside will only bring more attention, so go deal with him.” Margaret dusted off her hands and guided Sebastian to the door. “He’s been patiently waiting outside this whole time. He’s not a bad person.”

  “Fine, but if things go wrong, I will blame you,” Sebastian promised. He squared his shoulders and left the bakery. “Turren, it’s been a week,” Sebastian said to the prince sitting in front of Brassel’s Buns ’n Meats eating a thin pocket of bread with strips of pork falling out.

  Turren swallowed. “You never specified how long until I could see you again.”