Mal had never received one.
No ring had ever been forged for a fourthborn.
Kage’s fingers drummed against the armrest. ‘Perhaps it is for the best,’ he said carefully. ‘She is fourthborn, without duty to our realm. If her marriage can forge alliances, who are we to stand in the way of such a fate?’
‘She isoursister.’
‘And she will remain so, even in another land. We will all marry eventually, brother—whether we wish to or not.’
Kai clenched his fists. ‘My duty as secondborn is to protect. How can I do so when she is away?’
‘Your duty is to protect the futurequeen. The rest of us are irrelevant.’
A flicker of movement—a scholar shifting nearby—drew Kage’s attention, and in that brief moment of distraction, Kai allowed himself to study his brother more closely. They were alike in many ways, both bearing the family’s jet-black hair and dark, depthless eyes, their pale skin a stark contrast to the shadows they ruled. Yet, differences set them apart. Kage was leaner, his frame built for a life spent poring over tomes rather than wielding steel. WhereKai’s features were sharp, chiseled like the edges of a blade, Kage’s face was softer, rounder—an illusion of gentleness that often led others to mistake his nature. But Kai knew better. Beneath that quiet exterior, his brother’s temper burnt as fierce and unyielding as their bloodline itself.
Kage exhaled. ‘Centuries ago, oath marriages between the kingdoms was common. Alliances were built not through parchment and ink, but through blood and vows. That all ended when our ancestors shattered their oath to House of Flames.’
Kai scoffed. ‘We amended such betrayal by fighting against the witches. It is not our fault that other kingdoms seized the war as an excuse to carve their own empires.’
‘No, but we were the spark that ignited the destruction of the Eight Kingdoms’ unity.’ Kage’s voice was grave, the weight of history pressing upon each syllable. ‘Perhaps now we can mend what was broken.’
‘So you are willing to sacrifice Mal?’
Kage’s dark eyes flashed with something unreadable. ‘It is our duty, brother, to correct the mistakes of our ancestors. Whether we like it or not.’
‘If this happens, we will also be expected to marry beyond our borders. Our wives will not be wyverian. They will be foreigners, raised with customs we do not share. Our children will no longer be pure-blooded.’
Kage’s expression softened. ‘And would that be such a terrible thing?’
‘It has been our way for a hundred years—to keep our lineage untainted.’
‘And before that?’ Kage challenged. ‘Before our betrayal, before the war—our ways were different. Change is inevitable. If we resist it, we doom ourselves to stagnation.’
Kai’s jaw tightened. ‘Perhaps stagnation is better than extinction.’
‘Is it?’Kage leaned forward, his tone eerily calm. ‘What have we gained from isolation? Our people grow poorer, our lands colder, our future uncertain. The witches were shattered, yes—but in their silence, they have sharpened their hatred. And when they return, if we are still fractured, we will fall.’
‘Mal is just one girl, Kage. She cannot stop an entire war.’
Kage tilted his head, watching his brother carefully. ‘She is one girl, yes. But she may be the key to saving us all.’
A long silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the distant howls of wyverns circling the castle.
Kai finally rubbed his face in frustration. ‘The witches are a myth. No one has seen one in decades. Those that remain are ghosts in a wasteland. Why do you believe in bedtime stories spun to frighten children?’
Kage rose from his chair, gathering his tomes.
Spirox cawed from its perch, the sound chilling in its finality.
Kage met his brother’s gaze one last time. ‘You only need to look at our sister’s eyes to know the truth, dear brother. Just because we do notseethem does not mean they are notwatching.’
Then, without another word, he turned and walked into the shadows, his crow following in silence.
They say we are different.
The only true difference I see is the one in which we are told there is a difference.
I am a witch.