Page 11 of Ravenrose

Shaking off the tears that threaten to form, my attention narrows on my oldest brother. “And how is the Crown Prince of Sitara, Felipe Benedict Valrose?” I tease in the mocking tone of the court herald. “Rumor has it he is just perfect in every way.”

Fel rolls his eyes at the reference to the never-ending headlines about him in the village papers. “Oh, you know, same as usual. The ever uptight, pretentious, god-king-heir,” he replies with an embellished flourish of his hand.

I smile. As much as Riven and I like to poke fun at him, he really is the best of the three of us. Born to be king, he embodies the role wholeheartedly and without complaint, though I can see a difference in him.

Smile fading, I sit up a little straighter, turning to face him so I can see his eyes. “No, but seriously, how are you, Fel?”

To the rest of Sitara, Fel might be the heir, but to Riven and me, he’ll always just be our stinky older brother. And as stoic as he might appear, I know his duties weigh more heavily on him than he’d ever admit.

I don’t miss the small, almost sad smile when he looks down at his boots, or the flash of grief in his eyes that's gone nearly as quickly as it appeared. Two contradictions. His eyes, a warm amber gold unlike the dark green belonging to Riven and me, betray his true feelings.

Fel takes a deep breath, lifting his head to meet my gaze. “Starving. Shall we find something to eat?” He stands, his back stiff as he extends an arm out to me. The dutiful prince once more.

I don’t take it. Fel is here for a reason. His sudden appearance, and so soon after our father’s announcement last night—my engagement—is not a coincidence.

“You have news.” I stare him down, daring him to try evading me again.

Riven is silent beside me; he too held in rapt attention as we watch our brother uncomfortably rake his hand through his hair. It’s longer than I’ve ever seen it. He’s long overdue for a trim; the reddish-brown locks are close to falling into his eyes just like Riven’s.

Fel gives me a knowing look. “I thought we could discuss over dinner.” He gestures to the door but still avoids my gaze.

I take one small step in his direction before stopping, slowly shaking my head. “No.”

Fel stiffens.

This time, it’s Riven who speaks. “You’re a shit liar, Fel. Always have been. Come on, out with it—while we’re alone.”

It’s true the guards have all resumed their posts outside of the closed double doors across from us. And recently, it's become so rare for the three of us to be together—and to be alone. You might think it was our father’s new mission in life to keep us apart.

There had always been assasination attempts, but after our mother was killed in a demon attack, Father sent the three of us away—to Rosecliff, where we could be kept safe.

Rosecliff sits so far on the edge of Sitara’s territory that it is practically in Daekhar. Buried deep within the Wyldewood forest, the castle itself is an impenetrable fortress. After thousands of years, the walls have never been breached by fae armies, demons, or monsters alike.

But for the last year, aside from a few impromptu visits, Fel has been splitting most of his time between the military and the Starlight Court in Sitara’s capital. Father’s been preparing him for his role as heir just as he has Riven and me.

Except Father still prefers to keep the two of us far away from court.

The three of us stand in silence for a long moment. We know each other so well, Fel can’t hide anything from me, any more than I could hide something from him. Patiently, I wait for it to come out as he stares hard at the ground. Not wanting to say… whatever it is… yet.

“He’s moved it up,” he finally breathes out, his jaw tense.

“The wedding,” he confirms when I just stare at him.

I sigh in defeat. There goes my two weeks.

Riven lets loose a growl next to me, and there’s a sharp bite of anger to his tongue when he speaks up. “We only just received word of the engagement last night. There’s supposed to be a period of courting.”

“There’s growing tension on the border,” Fel offers weakly, as if some kind of explanation. “I was already on my way here when Father sent a falcon with the news.”

“With Kovaria?” I pry, seeing as Fel dragged a Kovarian prisoner back with him.

“No. But that’s an additional concern now, thanks to Theo.” Fel runs a hand down his face. “No, the King of Miselys appears to be amassing soldiers along the east border as we speak.”

That explains why Father left so quickly after his announcement last night.

Riven gives a start at his words, and his eyes find mine immediately. “Do they mean to attack?” A war with Miselys would be—well, devastating. For both sides.

Fel’s jaw tenses. “Not yet.”