Right at the top of the stairs, Isador stood with his hands at his sides, fingers flexing. His eyes lit with such a brightness that Simon couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable. As Simon reached the landing, Isador offered his hand to take. Simon did not reach for it. He hadn’t done that since they were kids.

”My mom is really excited to see you,” Isador said. “And Katherine will be there, too! You love Katherine.”

That was a strong descriptor. Katherine was intimidating, cool and calculated. The perfect heir. But Simon had found himself enamored with the way she used magic when they were younger. “Her Royal Highness is back?” he asked, raising a brow.

Isador nodded, guiding Simon through the door and down winding halls. The rest of the palace was built with the same ostentatious architecture as the archives, but the main halls and the spaces closer where the royal family’s quarters resided were so much more decorated, with stained glass in the windows and ornate framing on stunning paintings. “She found a husband. It hasn’t been announced yet, but she’ll be here to plan the wedding now. And that makes all three of them engaged or married.”

Simon didn’t know what to say to that. He kept quiet. Isador was the youngest of the four royal siblings. It wasn’t expected for him to marry quickly— or even at all. He was the fourth. Both his married older sisters had already had children. Katherine was betrothed. He was never going to be the heir. There was no burden that he needed to carry in terms of marriage.

But that was not what Isador was getting at.

Tonight was going to be long.

The commotion in the dining hall could be heard even with the doors shut.

Isador straightened himself, broad shoulders pushing back. He glanced quickly toward Simon and offered his arm once more.

As the servant at the door grasped the knob, Simon took it.

Isador’s tense shoulders relaxed and his smile returned. Simon understood. Family was hard, even one as tight knit as Isador’s. And with Katherine being home, the dynamic was shifting again.

The dining hall was too formal for a family. The gold on the crown molding and the carvings and flowers on the table were mind boggling feats of artistry, something that Simon felt he ought to be reveling in. However, the illusion of majesty was shattered by the loud chattering of the young woman near the head of the table, dark umber curls bouncing against her back as she reached out an arm to smack the man beside her.

”Salvador, if you do not stop insulting my fiancée—“

”Then, by all means, select a handsomer husband,” the man said, electric blue eyes rolling in his skull. “Isa understands that, at least. Look at him.”

Simon wanted to pull his own skin off of his body. Instead, he bowed his head. “Princess Katherine. Prince Salvador.”

Katherine’s mouth fell open. “Why if it isn’t Simon Kahn. Isador said that he had a guest. You’ve grown so much. Come, sit.” She waved him over with a slender hand, a sapphire ring catching the light. “Salvador, move. I want to sit with our guest.”

The young man groaned. “I don’t want to sit next to Isador.” Salvador was thirty-two, but he whined like a child. Still, he moved two seats down, making room for the two of them. Isador pulled a chair back for Simon to sit. Always a gentleman when under his family’s watch.

”Tell me, how has our little brother roped you into this?” Katherine said, leaning closer toward him.

”All he had to do was tell me you’d be here.”

Her cheeks flushed. Even ten years his senior, she always fell hard for flattery. “I am betrothed, Simon Kahn.”

Simon nodded. “And I congratulate you for that.”

”And you?” she asked, raising a thin brow.

”I am engaged with the archives, nothing else.”

Her grin was like ice. “A pity. It would be so pleasant to have you in the family.”

”Katherine.” Isador’s voice was whispered, but it was harsh.

Simon didn’t need to say anything, and it was better if he did not. The royal sibling had always been like this. Anything Katherine said was a trap. Anything Salvador did was to tease Isador. Responding was always a delicate thing, and if Simon was careful, he could wait for the group of them to occupy themselves without his input.

Footsteps against cool marble pulled Simon’s attention to the front of the room. He moved to rise, but a warm, firm hand clutched his shoulder. Isador just shook his head.

As the king and queen entered with their third son in tow, Simon did not stand to bow. That felt resoundingly like a trick, and if it had been Katherine who attempted to keep him from rising, he would have assumed it was. Isador, however, could be trusted not to fool him. There were days when Simon wondered if the man even had the capacity to try.

Her Majesty Queen Winifred was the image of grace as she walked arm in arm with her husband. Stout with soft cheeks and smooth skin, she always appeared much younger than she was. That King Reginald had aged so rapidly and grayed early into his reign only made the contrast more apparent. Beside them walked Prince Dorian, tall and slender, with hair as dark as his father’s had once been tied back loosely behind him. He sat beside Salvador without a word.

When Her Majesty’s eyes landed on Simon, her grin was as unsettling as her daughter’s.” Simon. You’ve joined us again at last.”

Simon bowed his head. “I thank you for inviting me. It is greatly appreciated.”

Reginald laughed as he took a seat beside his wife. “It is we who should thank you. Keeping Isador entertained is no small task. But you’ve captured his eye so well. Please, a meal is the least we could do to thank you.”

Simon knew well what this was about.

As courses were brought out and the family bickered among themselves, he kept quiet unless spoken to. It was always going to be like this.

It was only Dorian who kept quiet, occasionally turning his head to peek toward Simon. He furrowed his brow when Simon simply nodded toward him, but what else did he expect him to do? Fall at his feet and profess adoration? Simon moved his attention back to the food before him.

Dorian had never appreciated a lack of attention from anyone, but he had been much more pointed about it in the last few years. With Isador and Salvador in between them, at least he wasn’t going to confront him.

Simon watched as the dessert plates were cleared and kept his hands folded neatly in his lap. It would be over soon.

Katherine was the first to leave. And then Salvador.

It was all that Simon could do not to reach out and grasp Salvador’s wrist, to beg him to offer some buffer for what he knew was coming.

”Simon,” Her Majesty said, resting her head in her hand. “You know we adore you, yes?”

His stomach churned. “I am grateful for all of your kindness.”

She had teeth like a carnivorous fish. “You know we would be happy to have you in our family.”

Dorian’s eyes were like ice.

The King’s hands were clasped on the table, each finger decorated with a ring worth more than Simon’s life.

”Thank you, Your Majesty,” Simon said.

Isador hesitated for only a moment before placing a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “I’ll walk you to a carriage so you get home safely.” When he stood, Simon took the offered arm.

His stomach had soured during the first course, but the way Dorian’s eyes scraped over him as they exited the room caused it to curdle.

With the door shut behind them, Simon let go of Isador’s arm. “I’m going home. Do not follow me.”

Isador looked at him with a pained expression. “They really do like you.” His eyes were so soft.

Simon sighed, gazing toward the floor, finding himself fascinated with his own shoe buckles. “I don’t doubt that, Isa.”