“I am.”
He held her hand as they walked from her room and down staircases and halls through the castle, not saying anything more as she memorized every stone around her. Her home. Her kingdom.
And she was forced to run from it.
“Fleeing off to the Forest, are you?”
The noise of Rhaif’s voice made her fists curl as they reached the last hallway. Draven snapped around at her side—
The bag on his shoulder fell to the ground. Draven’s fist collided with Rhaif’s face, and the noise of Rhaif’s breaking nose vibrated in Aydra’s ears.
“Ah!” Rhaif grunted and stumbled backwards, hands clenching at his nose. Flames pulsed to life at an instant, but Draven didn’t care. He shoved Rhaif backwards and Rhaif fell onto the floor on his back.
“Little shit of a King—” His fist railed into Rhaif’s face again— “Is this how you rule? Cowering behind your fire like a—”
“Draven!”
Draven grabbed Rhaif up by his shirt and slammed his back into the ground, the wind billowing around them and pushing Rhaif’s flames low. His arm drew back again, but Aydra grabbed Draven’s arm before he could strike into her brother a third time. The noise of armor sounded in her ears, and she pulled Draven to his feet, pushing herself between the pair.
“Not now.”
Draven’s nostrils flared down at her. “You would rather I do nothing after what—”
“I don’t want to see you in chains,” she said through gritted teeth, just as she noticed two Belwarks come around the corner. “Wait for me at the gates,” she pleaded with him.
Draven swallowed hard, the veins in his neck pulsing as he stared at Rhaif over her shoulder.
“Draven, please—”
Breath left him, and he stepped forward again, towering over her. She thought for a moment he would push past her, dive into Rhaif’s face again, but then he took a step back and met her gaze.
“If you’re not with me in five minutes, I’m coming back to slit his throat,” he promised.
Draven turned on his heel.
—Every great double window in the hall burst as the wind broke through their glass, and Draven slammed the door behind him.
The two Belwarks at the other end of the hall stopped in their strides, hands on their swords. Aydra held up a hand to them.
“Go back to where you came,” she demanded. “There is nothing to see here.”
The pair gave her a short bow and turned on their heels.
Aydra watched Rhaif pick himself up off the floor. He held to his bleeding nose, flames and ashen skin receding back.
“He will pay—”
“Come after he or I, and you’ll never daylight again,” she promised.
Rhaif stared at her and wiped his face with his sleeve, gaze fuming through her. “Go ahead, sister. Have your fun in the forest. But when he hurts you, don’t come running back here looking for your crown.”
“My crown comes with me,” she argued. “I go to the southern realm not only to get away from you but also to help them protect our borders, to fulfill my duty.”
“If you leave this kingdom, you forfeit your place as Queen.”
Aydra stared at him. “That crown is my birthright.”
“For the Queen of our realm, yes. But if you leave, you’ll no longer serve this realm.”
