The torrent of wind parted for Sol and Neven, opening in front of them and gently pushing them from behind, guiding them through the dark forest.
The last thing Sol heard from their pursuers was the angry voice of the mage. “This dust storm is not natural, fools, they’ve unlocked their magic.”
Sol felt a glow of accomplishment in his chest, though it wasn’t big enough to bring a full smile to his face. If his plan worked out, he would never let his magic be locked again.
Chapter 3
“Princess Philomena.”
“Just Meena.” Quickly correcting the speaker, Meena’s mouth spoke the words before her mind fully recognized her older brother’s teasing voice. She crossed her arms, squinting her eyes into a glare at Onric’s approach.
“Sorry,Phil.” Onric lightly punched her shoulder as he strode by her without stopping.
“At least that’s better than Phil-o-mena,” Meena muttered, lurching forward as she attempted to punch her brother in return. Since he was already out of her reach, she stumbled forward as her arm swung wide. “Ornery.”
Her brother’s confident swagger faltered for a moment.
Meena felt her frustration bend into a wry grin. Running forward a few steps, she threw her arm over her brother’s shoulders. “You’ve been so good-natured since you met Ashlin, I haven’t had a reason to call you ‘Ornery Onric’ in far too long. Maybe I should tell Ashlin about that one. She’d probably find a better use for it than me.”
Onric shrugged her arm from his shoulder. “Don’t you dare mention that old name to her,” he hissed.
Meena batted her eyelashes and flipped her long braid over her shoulder. “Too late. Already did.” Dancing forward as quickly as possible, Meena skillfully moved herself out of Onric’s reach.
Fortunately, he was too frozen in shock to give her another good-natured punch.
Laughing at the look on his face, Meena decided to keep the upper hand by ending the conversation and continuing down the hall toward her destination.
“You didn’t? Right?” Onric called after her as she dashed away. “You’re jesting with me?”
Meena danced with her feet as she ran, swinging her hips just enough to flair out the edge of her skirt. Maybe she was too old to be acting like—well, like such a little girl—but she didn’t care. Teasing her brothers was more than worth it.
Another brother, the eldest, walked toward her. Ian’s stride held a speed and purpose which reminded Meena of their father. His face was tense, and his eyes hardly seemed to register her existence as he walked around her.
Meena knew her older brother had plenty of things to be legitimately worried about, such as the fact that the neighboring king had tried to murder Erich, or the fact that everything they knew about the exiled Majis had been wrong.
“Beware of Onric!” Meena called after Ian, ensuring her voice carried down the stone halls. She knew she was being cheeky, but even Ian deserved a reason to smile despite the current situation. “He’s feeling ornery today!”
Ian stopped, turning on his heel to face her. His frown had deepened.
Meena rolled her eyes. She should have known Ian would miss the silly tone of her voice.
“I was jesting,” she explained, feeling as though all the fun had been stolen out of the moment. “Ornery Onric?”
Ian nodded once in recognition. The confusion on his face melted slightly as he seemed to realize her words were not noteworthy enough to stop whatever important activity he was headed toward.
When his back was turned, Meena rolled her eyes again. He didn’t have to be so serious all the time. She was worried about all the same things, but at least she was keeping a cheerful face.
Meena squeezed her own eyes shut for a moment, missing a beat of the easy pace she was sounding on the stone floor. A small hollow feeling bloomed in her chest as she exhaled. Ian was the crown prince. Onric was the captain of the castle guard. They were both skilled tacticians and swordsmen.
Meena corrected the motion of her hips, adjusting her stride to mimic Ian’s purposeful movements. She was ... just the youngest. The only daughter after four sons.
As she rounded the corner, Meena barely had time to recognize another body racing toward her. She quickly jumped out of the way as Erich tripped over his own feet, trying to slow down enough to round the corner.
Meena embraced the smile that naturally relaxed her face. It was typical of Erich to be making a mad dash through the castle halls. He knew how to enjoy himself despite the copious amounts of worry that were probably running through his mind as well.
“If you quicken your pace, you’ll fall flat on your face!” Meena raised her voice, hoping it sounded as commanding as her mother’s had all those times the queen had reprimanded Meena for running inside the palace.
Erich waved his hand dismissively without turning back to face her. “I’m late.”
