Obviously, Fynn wasn’t as much of a morning person as Sebastian was. His hair was uncombed, his eyelids were still heavy from sleep, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“We’ve got to report to the King in an hour,” Sebastian reminded him. Fynn’s eyes widened as he remembered.
“Right, my lord. The reporting,” he mumbled, moving away from the door. Knowing that Sebastian might decide to come inside, Fynn left the door open. “I was just about to get around for it.”
Rolling his eyes, Sebastian stepped inside his brother’s chambers and said, “Of course you were.” With a raised eyebrow, he looked around, taking in the mess surrounding him. There were clothes tossed on the floor, the curtain on his window was falling off of it, his bed wasn’t made, and crumbles of food dusted the floor. “Have you never heard of cleaning, Fynn?”
Fynn glanced up from his search for a clean shirt. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he apologized immediately. “If I’d known that anyone was coming over…” He trailed off, looking at Sebastian’s amused expression in puzzlement.
“I was kidding, Fynn,” Sebastian said dully, pulling his dagger out of his belt and moving a pair of dirty socks off a chair with it so that he could sit. “Although, you might want to know that finding clean clothes gets easier if you do laundry more than once a month.”
“Yes, of course,” the older boy mumbled, finally pulling a clean shirt from under a pile of comic books and putting it on. “I’ll remember that.”