that was the thing– artyom didn’t know their parents. all he’d ever heard were stories, and stories of stories. stories of how alike he and his father were, stories of how their mother damned herself when she married a grisha, stories of how they died. artyom didn’t remember much of anything of his family, only what people told him, and he had no choice but to believe it.
artyom snatched their arm from yuliya’s grasp, but only after a moment. they were confused, they didn’t know how to react to anything yuliya told them. she had to have been lying to his face, right? how could one interaction unravel decades worth of teachings?
“mama and papa died going through the fold, like countless others. it’s no fault of the king. besides, i serve him on my own accord,” he said through gritted teeth, but he didn’t feel as certain as he spoke. at her question of their cousins, artyom tensed up even more. he had never been close with them, they always left him out– and when they died he only resented them more. unfair, yes, but he couldn’t help it. “i am uncle’s only heir now.” he said quietly, bitterness steep within his words.
she wouldn’t lie and say she wasn’t hurt by artyom’s actions. yuliya did want nothing more than just hug them, hold him as if he was still that same four-year-old boy of her memory. but, now, she accepted it. someday the healer would be able to do that again --- walk arm in arm with her brother, and laugh in the same way they used to did when their parents were still alive. yuliya knew hope was a dangerous thing, but she would do anything to have artyom’s love again. anything.
“ it may be that, but mama only returned to the army because the king asked her so. ” and their father because of the darkling, but they didn’t enter that subject yet. “ it is the king’s fault, because if he wasn’t a bloodthirsty fool, they would probably be still here. they left the army because of us, sobachka, and the king and the darkling made they come back against their wishes. ” was that going to happen to her too, if yuliya ever managed to have children ? leave the army for a while, and suddenly going back and dying ? it wasn’t fair to a child, as it wasn’t fair for them too. but yuliya wouldn’t be surprised if that happened. the pain in hers --- and in artyom’s, too --- veins was hereditary.
it was hard hearing artyom saying such things. yuliya could endure him cursing her countless times, but hearing they saying about serving the king with such naturalness was sickening. “ do you, really ? or uncle put that into your head, too ? ” it was the only explanation. their uncle already poisoned him against her, she wouldn’t be too surprised if pro monarchy propaganda was in his indoctrination too. however, artyom’s next words took her by surprise. “ i beg your pardon ? ” yuliya asked breathless, her brows arched. it couldn’t be true --- for years, she imagined her brother having a life where they could choose whatever they wanted to be, and to know that such duty was bestowed upon him made her heart break into a million pieces. “ you must be joking. please, tell me you're joking. ”
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