Page 26 of The Call of Crimson
“We may share blood, but my brother is dead. You have not earned the title, and you only use it to elicit reactions out of Breyla and me.”
“Well, I can see it’s certainly working,” he says with a smirk as he sips on a fresh cup of tea.
“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” I mutter.
“You just did.”
“I can see you’re taking your role as annoying little brother seriously,” Breyla comments, taking a seat on the other side of Ayden.
I scowl at her choice of seating, but bite my tongue.
“You meanyoungerbrother. I assure you, there is nothing little about me.”
My eyes roll at his attempt to banter with her. We are evenly matched in nearly every aspect, but he has a solid twenty pounds of muscle on me. It wasn’t much, but we had proven nearly identical in strength in our last brawl on the library floor.
“Perhaps you and Breyla should compare notes on how to best be the annoying younger sibling,” I say sarcastically.
Ayden raises a dark brow. “But Breyla is an only child.”
“Yes, but she’s always perfectly embodied the traits of a youngest child. Not sure where she learned it from, but she excels at it.”
“Most would call that being a brat,” Ayden says.
“For two males who would like to be on my good side, you sure are doing a terrible job of acting it,” Breyla says, then throws a biscuit at Ayden’s head. It hits him square in the jaw, but doesn’t faze him.
I see the food coming at my head and catch it before it makes impact. Taking a bite, I say, “I see we’ve moved from throwing knives to breakfast pastries. And why would I lie when that was what got me in trouble in the first place? I thought you wanted the truth; the truth is, you are a brat. Always have been.”
She glares at me before spitting, “If I’m such a brat, then why did you pursue me so ruthlessly?”
I resist the urge to tell her she hasn’t seen ruthless yet and settle on, “I never said I didn’t like you being a brat.”
Red creeps across her cheeks, and she turns back to her breakfast. Ayden sighs and returns to his own food before muttering, “Today should be entertaining.”
“Someone pour me a drink,” Ayden mumbles, rubbing his temples. Turning to me, he asks, “Are they always like this?”
Breyla had spent the last twenty minutes arguing with most of the members of her council. The only two that seemed exempt were Elijah and Ophelia, who had taken her late father’s place on the council. “Breyla threw a dagger at Lord Seamus in the lastcouncil meeting, so yes. At least, if she’s involved. Subtle isn’t her style.”
“All I’m asking,” Lady Daphne starts, “is how you plan to take the throne here in Rimor, maintain your position as General,andmarry Prince Ayden. You are talented, but last I knew you couldn’t occupy three places at once, Your Majesty.”
“And there is the line of succession to consider,” Lord Rion unhelpfully adds. “This kingdom is in a precarious situation, and whether you like it or not, it is vital to establish an heir as soon as possible.”
Breyla’s jaw ticks as she shoves to her feet. I watch carefully as her shadows swirl and begin to form in her palm. Realizing the mistake she’s about to make, I swiftly stand behind her to quietly whisper, “I would advise you to put that shadow blade away.” Gently, I caress her wrist, urging her to recall the shadows. After a moment, she acquiesces, shrugging off my touch.
“Fuck your line of succession,” she snarls at Lord Rion.
Elijah stands, placing a placating hand over Breyla’s. “We’re talking in circles. B, take a deep breath.”
And because it’s Elijah, she complies immediately.
Her willing obedience to him was something that once bothered me, even driving me to the point of jealousy. And while I was still envious of how well he knew her, perhaps even better than she knew herself, I was no longer envious of his position in her life. He held a place that was meant solely for him, and it was undeniably different than mine or anyone else’s.
Ayden studies them, his gaze sharp and contemplative. “He has impressive sway over her.”
“It’s as infuriating as it is impressive,” I grumble.
Ayden stands, leaning against the table. “At the risk of starting another fight, perhaps I can put this matter to bed.Breyla will not be coronated as the Queen of Rimor, nor will she be acting as General.”
“Excuse me?” she asks in disbelief.
