Page 70 of Stranger's Choice
Chapter 20
The stack ofmail sitting on the table taunted Sebin. It took months for mail to make it across the Mladin Ocean. Months during which he had heard nothing from home and Moial had faded from his thoughts. But here he had that reminder of home, pages of all that had happened in his absence. Reminders of the responsibilities he had abandoned.
Whatever news the letters held would already be at least a month out of date. He couldn’t do anything if there were problems back in Moial.
He felt guilty. Not because he was planning on staying in Pynth with Auraelie. No, he felt guilty because of how easy it had been to make that decision. He had spent years working behind the scenes, tempering the worst of his father’s excesses, and distracting his older brother so that Aster never cared enough to do anything that impacted the kingdom. There was only so much he could do without authority in his own right, though. He had set systems in place. He didn’t need to stay in Moial as oversight for his brother during his reign.
It was time for him to have his own life.
Sebin picked up the first letter. It was from his sister, Merine. He would miss her if he stayed in Pynth, but more than likely they’d have ended up only communicating by letter and very rare visits once she married, anyway. It would be just like his cousins, who had moved to Lhanaperi a couple of years before. The only family Sebin would have in Sintal, the Moialan capital, were his brother and father. He didn’t mind seeing less of them.
Sebin slipped his finger under the wax seal of the letter, unfolded the paper, and began reading.
When he finished, he let the letter fall to the table with a curse.
“What’s wrong? Bad news from home?”
He had noticed Auraelie enter the room as he read, but Merine’s news had kept him focused on the letter. He shook his head slowly. It wasn’t bad news—now. But it could have been.
“My sister is married,” Sebin said after a moment, holding out a hand. “You know how I mentioned the reason I had traveled to Pynth?”
Auraelie placed her hand in his and let him draw her into his lap. “The princess you didn’t want to marry?”
“Technically, Celedra isn’t a princess, just the niece of a king, but yes. Shortly after I set sail, her mother died. Since I was not around to marry off, my father engaged my sister to the newly widowed Prince Franscozo.”
“Wait, the father of the woman you were supposed to marry?”
“Exactly.”
“How old is your sister?”
“Twenty. No wait, twenty-one, now.”
“Your poor sister.”
Sebin heard the sympathy and horror in Auraelie’s voice. Yes, if Merine had married Franscozo, it wouldn’t have been that different from what Auraelie’s position with the Emperor was meant to be, if not for her inability to touch.
“She foiled our father’s marriage plans. She married someone else, but it was a close thing.” Sebin closed his eyes. “She thanked me at the end. She knows that if I had been at home, I would have stopped Father from sending her to Daalj, and she never would have met her husband and fallen in love.”
“And you feel guilty now.” Auraelie twisted and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Even though she thanked you, and is happy now, you feel guilty that you weren’t there to protect her.”
“I was just thinking about this before I opened the letter. I told myself that I have no reason to go back to Moial. I feel guilty about abandoning Merine, but I’m also relieved. There is no reason for me to return now.”
He looked over at the other letters sitting on the table. “I suspect that when I read each of these letters, I’m going to feel bursts of guilt for not being there, then relief because I don’t need to be there, and then . . . disappointment because I am not needed. It is a strange combination.”
“Just because you aren’t needed there doesn’t mean you aren’t needed, Sebin.”
He kissed her. “Thank you. I know it’s all a little irrational, I simply—”
Sebin forgot what he was saying. He had flipped over the next letter in the stack and the seal froze him in place. Black wax embossed with the Moialan royal seal not only held the letter closed, but it also secured two trailing bits of black silk ribbon to the paper.
Auraelie ran her hand down his arm to the letter. Her fingers brushed over the ribbon. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone died.” Sebin continued to stare at the letter, unwilling to break the black seal. “Either my father is dead, and this letter is from my brother informing me of the fact, or it is from my father telling me Aster is dead.”
It had to be one of them. Duirden wouldn’t send such a letter for anyone less than his heir. Merine was safe in Daalj. If something had happened to her after she had written her letter to him, the news wouldn’t have reached Moial in time to be included on the ship that had carried these letters. Especially since the news would probably have had to travel to Sebin by way of Lhanaperi—his cousins were the only ones who would take the time to inform him. They also wouldn’t be using the Moialan royal seal.
Auraelie kissed his temple. “Do you want me to open it?”
