Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Julian

“Did we really have to involve him, Evie?”

“To help us construct a plan to overthrow the king? Yes, Julian, I’d say it serves us well to have my uncle here.”

Julian glared at the man in question, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor and glaring right back at him. “He has been less than useless so far. All he’s done is make things worse.”

“So you keep saying,” Francis fired back, “yet it appears that you are the only one with a body count to your name.”

“You –”

“Both of you, stop!” Evie begged. “Uncle, you said my father wasn’t far behind you. When might we expect him?”

“By sunrise for sure,” he said, still glaring at Julian. “Which is good for Julian’s magic, I suppose. If he has the heart to use it.”

“Julian being unable to kill a man is not a flaw, uncle.”

“It is in this particular situation,” Julian and Francis said in unison, which only served to further their dislike of each other.

Evie sighed. When she dragged her hand across her face in exasperation Julian burst out laughing; it was a gesture he was very familiar with, considering the numerous times he had done it in Evie’s presence.

She frowned. “What is it?”

“I think you’re beginning to understand what it’s like to look after a brat,” Julian explained, before sliding an arm around her and pulling her closer towards him. Evie blushed even as she rolled her eyes at Julian’s insinuation.

Francis watched their interaction with disapproval. It only served to make Julian want to show off how close he and Evie were even more, but for her sake he resisted.

“It doesn’t matter if Julian can’t kill Pierre, anyway,” Francis said, after a moment of crackling tension between the two of them.

Julian’s eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m going to take care of my brother personally. All you have to do is incapacitate his army so it’ll be a fair fight.”

“You will kill him?” Julian asked incredulously. To his left Evie let out a small gasp of surprise. “You’re old and tired, Francis.”

“Not so old and not so tired that I can’t pierce my brother’s heart with a sword or shoot him with a pistol,” Francis said, smiling grimly. “I was a better swordsman than he was in the war, and he’s grown slow and spoiled in the palace. He will not be able to beat me.”

“And if he does?”

“Then I guess, for everyone’s sake, you better set him alight this time.”

Nobody said a word in response to Francis’ jibe.

Hours later, after the sun had long since dipped below the forest, Julian and Evie lay huddled together, enjoying the breeze that came through the window to flutter at the curtains surrounding them. Francis had insisted on spending the night in the forest, where his supplies were, so he could be ready on the ground for his brother’s arrival. Julian had, unsurprisingly, not bothered to convince him to stay.

“Why do you hate my uncle so?” Evie asked, when all they could hear was silence. Owls and songbirds alike were both resting; soon the sky would lighten and everything would change. The air would be full with the sounds of a midsummer morning.

And gunfire.

Julian sighed, rolling onto his front and propping himself up on his elbows before answering. “Because he followed us for so long. Because he thinks he knows me, but he doesn’t. Because he thinks he knows you –”

“He is only trying to help,” Evie said. She smiled softly. “Nobody knows me better than you, Julian. Certainly not as an adult. But my uncle isn’t a bad man; far from it. He and your father were the only reason the country functioned for the first ten years of my father’s rule.”

Julian grumbled incoherently. He knew Evie was right, though he didn’t want to admit it. He tucked a lock of Evie’s hair behind her ear, allowing his fingertips to linger around it long enough to send a small wave of magic pulsing through her. The resultant flush of pleasure that crept up Evie’s neck and cheeks had Julian kissing her before he could stop himself, though he knew that what the two of them had would eventually have to end.

He’d done something unforgivable to Evie, after all. Julian had imprisoned her for his own selfish reasons, never mind the fact that he’d also lied to her and made decisions on her behalf without considering what she thought of them. Julian didn’t deserve her.

But he couldn’t break away from Evie now, not with the king approaching and with her nestled into the crook of his arm, yawning herself to sleep. When the sun rose, and her father was dealt with, Julian would say his goodbyes.

“I love you,” he murmured, just as Evie slipped into unconsciousness.

He wondered if she heard him.