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Lyney’s mouth tasted metallic. The words he’d just spoken to the Traveler seemed to have left his head as soon as they passed his lips - a dangerous, emotionally charged position to be in.
He should be able to remember them.
He should have realized they were being played.
Should, should, should.
Freminet and Lynette’s apologies didn’t make a dent in the regret that was coursing through his veins. From the look in her eye, Lynette knew it - so she kept talking, unlike her.
“We all dropped the ball at some point.”
He knew she was trying to comfort him. He knew it was well intentioned. But the words just made another bolt of guilt lance through him, a fresh wave of blood coating his tongue as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.
“I guess so,” he managed to wheeze out, hoping it didn’t sound too strained.
Freminet was still looking at the floor. His face remained flushed, despite the medicine that nurse had administered, and Lyney had to restrain himself from pressing his palms into Freminet’s cheeks to check for himself.
“Primordial seawater,” he murmured under his breath. A fact so overwhelming, a revelation so large, that he couldn’t possibly begin to hypothesize on its implications. “Freminet, I - if I’d known, I’d have never -”
Freminet’s eyes lifted, and behind his usual stoic expression, a confused light lit his features. “I know that,” he said softly.
There was a beat of silence as Lyney swallowed. “Right,” he said, his heart thudding in his chest. “I just - I want to make sure you know I don’t think you’re expendable.”
“Lyney,” his twin said, a shocked reproach.
His head snapped towards her, and suddenly, it was like all of the frantic panic that had slowly settled upon seeing them alive was back. “I - I need you to know that. Even if - if “Father” had told me -” his throat tightened.
Lynette’s wide purple eyes reflected back his own tight expression, and he could see the thoughts clicking into place in her mind.
Inheriting the House wasn’t a responsibility he wanted, but it was one he knew was coming. He feared the day that it would happen - not because running it would be difficult. No, he was confident that he’d be able to do that.
It was the next steps that terrified him. What it would mean for the expectations of the next steps. Since La Signora’s death, the entire Fatui had been set aflame with rumors of what it meant for the Harbringers - would someone take her place? Would the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh move up, opening a new spot for fresh meat? Would candidates selected by each active Harbringer fight to the death, or show their loyalty in some other way? Would Pierro select the next one? The Tsaritsa herself?
Lyney didn’t know, but he already knew himself to be the Knave’s successor. They all did.
But to what extent?
He flinched as Lynette’s hand found his own, a ragged breath stuttering from his lungs. “I won’t abandon my family,” he gritted out.
Saying it sounded like a challenge for fate - a contract he was signing, sealing his own downfall with five words.
He’d failed their task. Some distant part of his brain told him that perhaps the Traveler would be able to salvage the situation enough to keep them from total failure - though it was a crapshoot whether the blond would recover information enough for them to succeed, if share it at all. “Father” was going to be disappointed.
“Lyney.”
Feminet’s voice jerked him out of his head. He looked up, surprised to see his brother standing on the far side of his bed, hands braced against the mattress. “What are you - you shouldn’t be up yet -”
“Move your legs,” Freminet said, ignoring his protests.
It took another few shallow breaths for Lyney to do as he was told. With a grunt, Freminet shoved their two cots together, then climbed back up - before collapsing with a wheeze.
“Freminet!” Instantly, both he and Lynette were kneeling at his side. Lyney fumbled at Freminet’s wrist, searching for his pulse point.
“I’m...fine,” he said, weakly pulling his arm away. “Just...lie down. Rest.”
For a moment, the infirmary was quiet once more. Then, Lynette gave a resigned sigh. “You’re right. I can still feel the tranquilizer.” She lowered to the mattress, curling up in her cat-like way, and then looked at Lyney. “You were shot, too. Rest before Sigewinne or the Traveler return.” Or the Duke, or Chlorinde, her eyes added.
Lyney still hovered on his knees, watching his siblings - the people he cared about most in the world. After another sharp look from Lynette, he crawled between them - careful to avoid Lynette’s tail, making sure not to disturb Freminet’s shallow but steady breathing.
The mattress was thin, the pillows flat as he settled - but they had piled like this in worse situations. With the ease of familiarity, Freminet’s head found a spot on his thigh, and Lynette leaned into his chest. The weight was grounding, and Lyney released his first full breath since he’d walked into the infirmary hours earlier with the Traveler. One arm wrapped protectively around each of his siblings, Lyney let his eyes fall closed. For a moment, he could pretend that they were miles above sea level, young and much more free.
For a moment, things would be alright.