The coach began moving back to the estate. Ronan stared out the window, watching people again.

"Depends on how shitty it goes with Declan," he said, knowing full well how heavy the bombs he was about to drop on his brother were. Declan had plans. Ronan wasn't an idiot; he had lured him back to the estate for more than just ration a few of their father's personal belongings. He was old enough to marry, old enough to inherit, and had done enough damage to their name as it was.

"I gotta visit Gansey at some point. We wrote some while I was gone, so I know what's going on, more or less, but that guy's always getting into shit. Maybe I'll do that." And by wrote some, he really meant that Gansey wrote him slews of letters while he didn't really respond outside of a letter or two. That was simply how they worked. Not that he clarified that.