Chapter 11
Elias was taller than me.
I hated that immediately.
He noticed.
“You’re measuring.”
“Obviously.”
He smiled.
Same crooked smile as my father.
For a moment I could not speak.
We sat.
Coffee between us.
No bodyguards at table.
Rafe far enough away.
Elias looked at my hands.
“Signet ring.”
“Yes.”
“Dad wore his on the right.”
“I know.”
“He said you copied him.”
“I did.”
He smiled again.
Then silence.
What do brothers say after forty years?
Apparently:
“Did he love you?”
I asked.
Elias looked out the window.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“Badly.”
That answer was perfect.
Alexander loved him privately and failed him publicly.
Loved me proudly and failed me through secrecy.
Both.
Elias asked about Rose.
Then Mila.
Interesting.
He remembered her.
“She gave me the tablet.”
“Yes.”
“She was brave.”
“She was terrified.”
“Same thing sometimes.”
Good line.
Then I asked:
“Why didn’t you contact me after escaping?”
He laughed.
“Because every person who said they loved you also said meeting you would destroy the family.”
There it was.
He was twenty? No, older. Five years ago he was forty-one. Still conditioned.
He believed approaching me might start war.
Then once free, he realized he wanted no part of Blackwell.
“So you stayed away.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still want that?”
He looked at me.
“Mostly.”
Fair.
I laughed.
Then he added:
“But coffee is okay.”
Enough.
No dramatic reunion.
No immediate return.
No title.
No bloodline ceremony.
May you like
Coffee.
That was healthier than anything our father would have planned.
