A Strange and Stubborn Endurance (The Tithenai Chronicles #1)

by Foz Meadows

“My apologies, envoy.” “It is not your place to apologise, but his to have done better.

The effort was such that I passed out again almost instantly, but in the space between dreams and waking, I heard Father whisper, “Yours is a strange and stubborn endurance, Velasin.” And then, more softly still, such that I might almost have imagined it: “Just like your mother’s.”

Maybe I can be angry at him for not giving me any legitimate reasons for anger,

“Of course I’m afraid, tiera. I’m just more scared of myself than of your brother.”

Slowly, Caethari nodded. “As you wish.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not … good, at accepting praise.” “I’ll have to help you practice, then,” said Cae. Unhelpfully, his brain reacted to this by conjuring up an image of Velasin, dishevelled and panting in his bed as Cae whispered filthy endearments into his ear. Cae slammed a mental door on that (very intriguing, absolutely to be considered later) prospect and returned his focus to the moment.

“Ahh,” she said, grinning. She didn’t pat me on the shoulder, but she looked very much like she wanted to. “Well, I’m looking forward to our having a proper conversation at some point, but right now, there’s too much wine in this blasted hall going tragically undrunk, which situation I am honour-bound to remedy. Excuse us, please.” And with that, she somehow corralled all three of her dais, gave Caethari an affectionate punch in the shoulder and beelined towards the nearest drinks-bearing servant.