Ugh. Endymion huffed and let go, because if Oz was going to be that condescending to him at a time like this, he could bloody well toss himself right out of the window. Endymion would have tried.
So he pulled a face and stalked off to the door, summoned a bottle and a glass – set aside ready for the reception, probably, but Endymion didn’t really care – and remained in Oz’s room with them. He put the glass down, poured out a drink, snatched up the glass and downed it himself. (He deserved that much for bothering to try.)
It had at least curbed his frustration for a minute or two, so Endymion turned back to his brother, folding his arms in loose disapproval. “Then tell me what you’re doing,” he demanded, because if no one else in this family took the thought of marriage seriously, he did, and he was offended by Oz’s – all this. He hadn’t witnessed everything in their courtship for himself, but he’d heard enough stories to be fairly confident of this next: “Because you clearly don’t love her.”
So he pulled a face and stalked off to the door, summoned a bottle and a glass – set aside ready for the reception, probably, but Endymion didn’t really care – and remained in Oz’s room with them. He put the glass down, poured out a drink, snatched up the glass and downed it himself. (He deserved that much for bothering to try.)
It had at least curbed his frustration for a minute or two, so Endymion turned back to his brother, folding his arms in loose disapproval. “Then tell me what you’re doing,” he demanded, because if no one else in this family took the thought of marriage seriously, he did, and he was offended by Oz’s – all this. He hadn’t witnessed everything in their courtship for himself, but he’d heard enough stories to be fairly confident of this next: “Because you clearly don’t love her.”
