Damian stared at the ceiling. He had been lying with his eyes closed for what felt like a million years, waiting for sleep to claim him, but as usual, it never did. So, he resorted to staring at the ceiling in total numbness, ticking over everything that he could think of.

His father had chosen to come to the Imperial Ball after all, bringing with him a suit of bodyguards.

Demetrius was a test subject, and a successful telepath. He could even project his thoughts, like Anya could. (He tried not to think of how much it stung that he had not seen his brother in years, and yet Demetrius did not say a single thing out loud to him at all.)

Be careful, little brother.

Be careful.... Of what? Demetrius ' words made no sense. Not what he said to Damian, or what he had said to Anya either. They had spent too many hours on the phone trying to figure it out together, but it was a futile attempt.