Politics had brought him here. He did not like this place, the ownership of which he shared with his brother. He had not liked it when they were children, and he did not like it now. Too many old memories, he supposed, too many recollections of long evenings of illness and infirmity. It reminded him too much of a hospice or one of those temples of euthanasia where the old and the weary of life went to end their lives in peace and comfort.

He dismissed these thoughts. Even as he did so, the earth quivered. It was very mild. The wine in his goblet merely rippled. The walls of the old palace barely quivered. It might have been a natural earthquake, but he doubted it. All the signs were clear. Something was interfering with the ancient spells that bound the island continent of Ulthuan together, that stopped it from disappearing once more beneath the waves. And if something was not done, his nightmares would come true.
Aldreth, one of his oldest servants entered. Teclis knew it was important. The old elf had orders not to disturb him for anything less than a summons from the Phoenix King himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with you,” he said.
Teclis smiled sourly. There was no way of denying he was at home. This place was as much Tyrion’s as his own, and the servants were as loyal to his twin as they were to him. More loyal, he thought acidly. Of course, his brother would depart if he indicated a wish for privacy. His manners were as perfect as everything else about him. Teclis turned his gaze back to the sea. You are in a vile mood today, he told himself.
“Show my brother in,” he said. “And prepare food if he wishes it.”
“It is a little early to be drinking that vintage,” said Tyrion as he strode out onto the balcony. There was a hint of reproof in his voice that was equivalent to a thunderous chorus of disapproval from anyone else. Teclis looked up at his brother. So tall, so straight. The limbs so clean and so unbent, the face so honest and open. The voice as beautiful as a temple bell being rung to greet the dawn. Astonishing, he thought, that this golden creature should be my twin.