eyes still shut, and let her pour the tea down his throat.
"What's in that?” Joori asked, all suspicion and anxious bravado.
Shaking her head, Umeia turned, looked Joori up and down—heavens, but he did look like his brother, especially with that glare burning holes in Malick—then pinched at the bridge of her nose.
She only had secondhand knowledge of what had gone on tonight, but she'd heard enough, and now she'd seen enough. With a heavy sigh, she left Fen to Malick and stepped over to Joori, caught his fiery gaze, and made her own as nonjudgmental as she could manage toward someone who'd just spat poison at her brother and all but accused her of drugging Fen for purposes all too clear. Then again, if she'd suspected that someone was doing to Malick what this one obviously thought Malick was doing to Fen....
"He doesn't want you to see him like this,” Umeia told Joori quietly. “It isn't that he doesn't love you—it's that he does."
Joori's jaw clenched tight, and he jerked his chin at Malick. “But he doesn't mind him seeing him like—?"
"Malick can make it quiet for him.” Umeia kept her voice low and patient. “Understand? Quiet .” She paused as Joori's face wrenched into something pained and close to resentful. “After whatever went on tonight,” she continued more gently, “I think he'll take anything that comes along with the quiet. Wouldn't you?” She took a step in closer, lowered her voice even further. “He's clinging to the edge by his fingernails, lad.” And the gods help them all if he lost his grip, because Umeia was sure it wouldn't be pretty—it wasn't pretty now. Good job they'd thought to take his weapons away.
"He—” Joori's eyes filled, and he blinked, looked away from his brother, and turned his gaze slowly to Umeia again. He leaned in, nearly whispering, “Please—what does he make him pay for it?"
She could have smacked him. She could have hugged him. She rolled her eyes. “Just because he lives in a whorehouse,” she said evenly, “doesn't mean he is one. Or that anyone expects him to be. Save your worry for someone who needs worrying about."
Joori's mouth tightened. “Have you met my brother?"
Umeia didn't answer, only turned an almost-thwack into a pat on his cheek and gave Samin a nod. “Let him go. He'll behave.” A narrow glare at Joori. “ Won't you, lad?"
With a look that wasn't entirely unpleasant but mostly was, Joori shrugged out of Samin's grip, stared at Umeia for a moment, like he was thinking about saying something, then just shook his head and pushed past her toward the bed. Ignoring Malick's wary glance—which was not, again to Umeia's surprise, the least bit victorious—Joori crouched down. He grimaced at the mess that was Fen's right leg then peered up at his brother's face.
"Jacin.” When Fen only shook his head, Joori reached up, hands coming up to either side of Fen's face, turning his head and holding him still. He leaned in until they were brow to brow. “Jacin. Look at me."
Fen's own hand rose, shaky and tentative, and he laid it to Joori's arm. “Sorry, I'm sorry .” Pushed out on a strangled whisper.
"Stop it,” Joori said. “Look at me.” It took a moment, but Fen eventually did as his brother asked, tears spilling out the corners of his eyes the second he opened them. “I won't look, if you don't want me to see.” Joori's tone was soft, artless. “But you're my hero, Jacin. You always have been. Don't you know that?"
It was sweet. It was touching. And still, it made Umeia's teeth clench. Couldn't the lad see he was just making it worse? Couldn't he see his brother was already under too much pressure to rescue... well, everyone he loved? And now Joori wanted to go and wrap “hero” around his neck?
"You're the other half of me,” Joori went on. “You're my heart. I could never, ever see whatever it is you see when you look at yourself.” His voice went wobbly, and now his eyes were leaking too. “Don't make
"What's in that?” Joori asked, all suspicion and anxious bravado.
Shaking her head, Umeia turned, looked Joori up and down—heavens, but he did look like his brother, especially with that glare burning holes in Malick—then pinched at the bridge of her nose.
She only had secondhand knowledge of what had gone on tonight, but she'd heard enough, and now she'd seen enough. With a heavy sigh, she left Fen to Malick and stepped over to Joori, caught his fiery gaze, and made her own as nonjudgmental as she could manage toward someone who'd just spat poison at her brother and all but accused her of drugging Fen for purposes all too clear. Then again, if she'd suspected that someone was doing to Malick what this one obviously thought Malick was doing to Fen....
"He doesn't want you to see him like this,” Umeia told Joori quietly. “It isn't that he doesn't love you—it's that he does."
Joori's jaw clenched tight, and he jerked his chin at Malick. “But he doesn't mind him seeing him like—?"
"Malick can make it quiet for him.” Umeia kept her voice low and patient. “Understand? Quiet .” She paused as Joori's face wrenched into something pained and close to resentful. “After whatever went on tonight,” she continued more gently, “I think he'll take anything that comes along with the quiet. Wouldn't you?” She took a step in closer, lowered her voice even further. “He's clinging to the edge by his fingernails, lad.” And the gods help them all if he lost his grip, because Umeia was sure it wouldn't be pretty—it wasn't pretty now. Good job they'd thought to take his weapons away.
"He—” Joori's eyes filled, and he blinked, looked away from his brother, and turned his gaze slowly to Umeia again. He leaned in, nearly whispering, “Please—what does he make him pay for it?"
She could have smacked him. She could have hugged him. She rolled her eyes. “Just because he lives in a whorehouse,” she said evenly, “doesn't mean he is one. Or that anyone expects him to be. Save your worry for someone who needs worrying about."
Joori's mouth tightened. “Have you met my brother?"
Umeia didn't answer, only turned an almost-thwack into a pat on his cheek and gave Samin a nod. “Let him go. He'll behave.” A narrow glare at Joori. “ Won't you, lad?"
With a look that wasn't entirely unpleasant but mostly was, Joori shrugged out of Samin's grip, stared at Umeia for a moment, like he was thinking about saying something, then just shook his head and pushed past her toward the bed. Ignoring Malick's wary glance—which was not, again to Umeia's surprise, the least bit victorious—Joori crouched down. He grimaced at the mess that was Fen's right leg then peered up at his brother's face.
"Jacin.” When Fen only shook his head, Joori reached up, hands coming up to either side of Fen's face, turning his head and holding him still. He leaned in until they were brow to brow. “Jacin. Look at me."
Fen's own hand rose, shaky and tentative, and he laid it to Joori's arm. “Sorry, I'm sorry .” Pushed out on a strangled whisper.
"Stop it,” Joori said. “Look at me.” It took a moment, but Fen eventually did as his brother asked, tears spilling out the corners of his eyes the second he opened them. “I won't look, if you don't want me to see.” Joori's tone was soft, artless. “But you're my hero, Jacin. You always have been. Don't you know that?"
It was sweet. It was touching. And still, it made Umeia's teeth clench. Couldn't the lad see he was just making it worse? Couldn't he see his brother was already under too much pressure to rescue... well, everyone he loved? And now Joori wanted to go and wrap “hero” around his neck?
"You're the other half of me,” Joori went on. “You're my heart. I could never, ever see whatever it is you see when you look at yourself.” His voice went wobbly, and now his eyes were leaking too. “Don't make
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