Midday sunlight poured through the windows, casting colorful fragments of light across the classroom. Agneyastra sat at her small desk, nestled beside a larger one that belonged to the instructor. The energized chatter of students filled the room as they settled into their seats, awaiting the arrival of their teacher.
With a sigh, Agneyastra glanced down at the stack of papers that lay in front of her. She was engrossed in grading assignments, a task that seemed to never end. Lost in the monotonous rhythm of her work, her senses suddenly heightened as she caught snippets of a conversation floating through the air. Intrigued, she tuned in to the voices of two students seated at the front of the classroom.
A young female, her voice soft and melodic, spoke with a hint of excitement. “I am sure it would be okay to marry a Dweller Warrior,” the girl mused, her eyes shining with curiosity. Her words driftuned sweetly, carrying a weight of adventure and the unknown. Agneyastra''s interest was piqued, her grading momentarily forgotten.
The girl continued, her voice now tinged with a touch of awe. “During this past summer, while assisting my father in delivering lunches for the war, I encountered Fire Kingdom soldiers. Clad in silver and gold armor, they were a sight to behold. Each one possessed an otherworldly beauty that captured my breath.”
Agneyastra sat at her small desk, diligently grading the stack of papers before her. Her deep concentration was suddenly interrupted by the whispered conversation between two students at the front.
“My father says the Fire Kingdom is no more, and we are not allowed to talk about it,” one girl divulged, her voice tinged with a hint of secrecy.
The other student leaned in, her eyes filled with curiosity. “But my father told me that wasn''t true. The Fire Kingdom has no heir after Prince Tyson. They are practically done as a Kingdom.”
Curiosity piqued, Agneyastra couldn''t help but interject. “Why not?” she inquired, her voice filled with intrigue.
The girl shot Agneyastra a disapproving look. “It''s rude to eavesdrop,” she admonished, her words laced with a touch of annoyance.
Just as Agneyastra was about to offer an apology, the arrival of Aurgelmir, drew her attention. He strode into the classroom, his presence commanding attention. Making his way to the instructor''s desk, Agneyastra stood up abruptly, “I am not feeling well,” she uttered hurriedly, her voice trembling with urgency. Without a moment''s hesitation, Agneyastra darted out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she burst out of the building.
The sunlight shined on the towering Dweller Archives, casting vibrant hues of red, blue, and gold across the vast expanse of the room. Agneyastra''s footsteps echoed softly against the polished marble floor as she ventured further into the heart of the archival sanctuary.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of countless rows of tall shelves, adorned with weathered books and delicate scrolls. Each shelf seemed to house an entire world of knowledge, waiting to be discovered and unraveled. Agneyastra approached the Archivists who were diligently engrossed in their scholarly pursuits behind the grand wooden desk that served as the focal point of the room. The Archivists, adorned in flowing robes and adorned with intricate emblems, were a testament to their dedication to the preservation of knowledge.
But as Agneyastra neared them, her eyes caught sight of two empty sections amidst the rows of books. An Archivist, engrossed in reading from a weathered scroll, momentarily looked up at the sound of Agneyastra''s footsteps. His aged face wore an expression of weariness mixed with curiosity. With a gentle but firm voice, he declared, “I can''t help you.”
A surge of disappointment washed over Agneyastra as she questioned, “Why?”
The Archivist, as if accustomed to such inquiries, slowly rolled up the scroll, his gaze descending from the lofty height of the desk to meet Agneyastra''s inquisitive eyes. He seemed to assess her presence, gauging her purpose. “Aren''t you supposed to be in training right now?” he inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of skepticism.
Agneyastra straightened her posture, the determination in her voice evident as she replied, “But, I am the instructor''s assistant.”
The Archivist''s aged brow furrowed, contemplating her words. After a moment of silent contemplation, he relented. “Fine. Did he send you here for something?”
The Archivist''s piercing gaze locked onto her. With a careful flick of his wrist, he rolled up the ancient Scroll he had been studying, his eyes never leaving Agneyastra''s face. From his elevated desk, he seemed to tower above her, an imposing figure with a wealth of knowledge at his fingertips.
As the silence hung heavy in the air, Agneyastra searched for the right words to defend herself. “Yes,” she finally replied, her voice betraying hints of uncertainty. “He sent me to research the Fire Kingdom.”
The Archivist''s cold voice sliced through the tension, his words laced with skepticism. “Your pause gave away your lie,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Furthermore, there is no mention of a Fire Kingdom within the confines of these sacred Archives. Only the Kingdoms of Water, Wind, and Earth are documented here.”
Agneyastra as she tried to make sense of The Archivist''s words. “What do you mean? Why would information on the Fire Kingdom be missing?” she questioned, her voice filled with genuine confusion.
A flicker of knowledge danced in The Archivist''s eyes as he leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Long ago, certain items were deliberately removed from these Archives. It is believed that they pertained to the enigmatic Kingdoms of Elements and the fabled realm of Loftyworld.”
Agneyastra''s curiosity was piqued, her mind racing with questions. “Why would anyone want to erase such vital information? What is the connection between the Kingdoms and Loftyworld?”
The Archivist''s tone grew even more solemn as he revealed a secret seldom spoken of. “Have you ever had the privilege of meeting a Keener?” he inquired.
Agneyastra shook her head, her curiosity growing even more. “No, I have not.”
A faint smile played at the corners of The Archivist''s lips. “Ah, I thought not. Encountering a Keener beyond the boundaries of Loftyworld is a rare occurrence, much like the births of princesses endowed with the power of fire.”
The Archivist hastily gathered a stack of aged scrolls and scurried away towards the dimly lit back room. Agneyastra, desperate for answers, followed in hot pursuit, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridors. Breathless, Agneyastra pleaded, “Please, tell me more.”
The Archivist turned, their eyes filled with a mixture of knowledge and caution. “If you wish to uncover the truth, seek out those who have whispers of Prince Maccoy and the enigmatic Keener girl, Hanina.”
Before Agneyastra could grasp hold of further information, The Archivist faded into the shadows, leaving them standing there, feeling both frustrated and intrigued.
As Agneyastra made her way back towards the building''s exit, a guard appeared, stern and unyielding. With a voice that dripped with authority, the guard coldly declared, “Do not ever return.”
Agneyastra stood firm, determination blazing in their eyes, as they replied, “I will honor your request.” With measured footsteps, Agneyastra turned away and took their leave from the building.
***
As the sun painted the sky with hues of golden orange, Ramil''s heart raced with anticipation. Breakfast had been quickly devoured, and now he hurriedly made his way out of the dining room, a sense of purpose propelling him forward.
Agneyastra caught up with him at the threshold of the house, a small lunch sack in hand. “Me and Sinai made you lunch,” she said with a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. Ramil graciously accepted the offering, his gratitude evident in a soft, appreciative smile.
With a deft turn, Ramil stepped out into the cool early morning air, his footsteps echoing against the cobblestone pathway.
A quickening in his heart led him to a tree. Behind it, obscured within the shadows, lay a mysterious box. Intuition guided his hand to pry open the lid, revealing a startling sight - a pile of ashes resting within.
A knowing smile graced his lips as he whispered, “Come my friend,” his voice barely a breath carried on the wind. And in an enchanting display of magic, the ashes seemed to come alive, dancing and swirling until they transformed into a majestic creature. Before him stood a horse, crafted from ethereal ashes, its ebony mane cascading like smoke in the wind. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a testament to the power that lay dormant within.
Embracing the spirit of adventure, Ramil leapt effortlessly onto the horse''s back. Together, they galloped down the street. As the early morning sun cast its golden rays across the sprawling city of Dweller, Ramil''s figure galloped into view, mounted atop his majestic horse. The pounding of hooves resonated through the empty streets, a symphony of determination and urgency. With a swift leap, Ramil dismounted, his horse crumbling into a pile of charred ashes upon impact.
In the distance, his keen eyes caught sight of a huddle of figures - his father, Marudeva, engaged in conversation with Saichi and Aurgelmir. With a sense of purpose, Ramil strode towards them, his grip tight on the lunch sack he carried.
“I am here,” Ramil proclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and impatience. “When do I begin my warrior training?”
Aurgelmir''s response was tinged with a hint of regret. “The entry exam for new recruits was conducted last week.”
Ramil''s laughter resounded through the empty courtyard, a bold declaration of his self-assurance. “But why would I need an exam? I already possess the knowledge and skills to wield the sword.”
Marudeva''s voice, filled with a firm resolve, pierced through the air. “Ramil, just one week ago, you assured me that everything was under control.”
Curiosity laced Ramil''s gaze as he looked upon his father, Saichi, and Aurgelmir. A question tumbled from his lips, seeking answers in the faces before him. “What does this mean?”
In response, Saichi stepped forward, his expression carrying the weight of responsibility. The air around him seemed to shimmer, as if charged with an unknown energy. “Follow me,” he beckoned, his tone imbued with a sense of authority. “I will handle this.”
Ramil followed Saichi into the dimly lit office, the window offering a glimpse into the training grounds. Outside, Dweller warriors moved with fluid grace, their blades gleaming in the sunlight. Ramil''s eyes sparked with determination as he beheld the scene before him.
“How can I get on that field?” Ramil exclaimed, his voice filled with a fiery determination. “I know, I will be the best warrior.”
Saichi, with his typical calm demeanor, reached for a worn sack filled with books and documents. He turned to Ramil. “Use this time to study,” Saichi advised, his voice low and steady. “The next Entry exam will be in six months. I wouldn''t miss the next one if I were you.”
Ramil eagerly took the books and papers from Saichi, his hands trembling with anticipation. “I will not miss it,” he declared.
With the weight of his dreams resting on his shoulders, Ramil walked out of the office, his books and papers clutched tightly in his arms. As he made his way towards the training grounds, he could feel the watchful gaze of Marudeva upon him.
“They will not go easy on you,” Marudeva warned, his voice laced with caution. “Being the leader''s son will put a target on you and the men that fight with you.”
Ramil''s resolve hardened, his eyes meeting his father''s gaze with a mix of determination and disappointment. “Father, I don''t need you to support my dreams,” Ramil said, his voice filled with a touch of sadness. “But I was hoping for it.”Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Marudeva''s keen eyes caught sight of the book precariously slipping out of Ramil''s grasp. As the weight of the knowledge threatened to escape his friend''s clutches, Marudeva swiftly stepped in to assist, deftly balancing the stack of books in his arms. Together, they made their way towards the exits of the ancient library, its walls whispering secrets of centuries long past.
But just as they reached the threshold of the grand entrance, Marudeva''s gaze was drawn to a peculiar sight; a mound of ashes scattered near the stone steps leading into the outside world. The telltale signs of incantation were evident, an unmistakable residue of magic lingering in the air. His heart sank as he turned towards Ramil and questioned him in a hushed yet stern voice, “Tell me you didn''t use your powers.”
Ramil''s face wore a sheepish expression, his eyes casting downwards in guilt. “Yes, I was late. Agneyastra didn''t see me. I had to...,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice filled with regret.
Summoning his composure, Marudeva hailed a passing carriage, commanding it to halt at their side. With a flourish of his hand, he gestured for Ramil to enter the elegant vehicle. As they settled into the plush interior, Marudeva''s tone carried a hint of admonishment, “You are far too careless. You will take a carriage home.”
Ramil''s gaze met Marudeva''s, offering a hint of defensiveness. “But these ashes...” he began, a flicker of nostalgia flickering within his eyes.
Marudeva interrupted, his voice firm yet patient. “I will gather these ashes for you, Ramil. Now is the time for you to focus on your studying for the Dweller warrior entry exam.”
Ramil stepped into the cozy carriage, his arms burdened with a stack of books and papers. As the carriage began its journey back to his house, he sank into the plush seat, lost in thought. The rhythmic sound of the horse''s hooves on the cobblestone streets provided a soothing backdrop to his contemplation.
When the carriage came to a halt outside his home, Ramil emerged, his belongings still clutched tightly in his grasp. The sunlit facade of his house greeted him, casting a warm glow that seemed to invite him inside. With determined steps, he crossed the threshold, the weight of his responsibilities ever present on his mind.
In the living room, Agneyastra and Sinai were engrossed in a chess match, their minds focused solely on the intricate dance of strategy. Agneyastra, however, caught sight of Ramil''s arrival and noticed the heaviness in his footsteps.
“Are you okay?” Agneyastra inquired softly, concern etched on their face as they abandoned their concentration.
Ramil paused for a moment, meeting Agneyastra''s gaze. The turmoil within him was evident, yet he managed a resigned smile. “Yes, just six more months of waiting and to take an entry exam,” he replied.
***
In the hallowed halls of the Earth Kingdom''s grand castle, bathed in the gentle glow of morning light, a room stood in somber silence. Within its expansive walls, Moriko, garbed in a vestment of ebony, was perched upon a plush couch, her eyes swollen from the weight of sorrow. Emathion, donned in a matching cloak of darkness, entered the room with a sense of urgency and purpose. He hastened to Moriko''s side, his figure a pillar of support amidst the tempest of her heartache. With tender care, he enfolded her within his strong embrace, her fragile form seeking solace within his comforting hold.
As tears cascaded down her pale cheeks, Moriko''s voice trembled as she uttered the unimaginable truth that had befallen their beloved Lacey. Every fiber of her being shook with disbelief at the cruel twist of fate that had robbed them of cherished lives. Lacey''s parents, her sister, her brother-in-law – all claimed by a horrific car crash. And yet, amidst the wreckage of this tragedy, a glimmer of hope emerged. Emathion''s voice, a soothing balm in the aftermath of anguish, offered a thread of consolation.
His words, laced with unwavering support, reminded Moriko that amidst the devastation, Lee, and Jeremy, had been spared. Emathion, unbeknownst to Moriko, had been working tirelessly to arrange the details of their mourning journey, seamlessly orchestrating a meeting between Jeremy and his dear friend Dylan. Together, they would embark upon the melancholic pilgrimage to bid their final farewells at the funeral.
Moriko, her tear-drenched countenance turned towards Emathion, gazed at him through watery eyes. A mixture of awe and gratitude swelled within her, mingling with the tide of sorrow that threatened to engulf her entirely. How could one soul possess such unwavering devotion, such selflessness in the face of despair?
The room, shrouded in shadows and adorned with mourning, bore witness to a moment of profound connection. Moriko, a fragile reed floating upon a tempestuous sea, found strength in Emathion''s unwavering presence, a beacon of light amidst the encroaching darkness. And as their eyes met, united in shared grief, Moriko whispered softly, her voice breaking through the weight of her sorrow.
“You did all that,” she murmured.
As Moriko nestled into Emathion''s embrace, her tear-stained face found solace. Though his own heart was burdened, Emathion spoke with unwavering determination, “I would do anything for you, Moriko. And I have news... We will have a companion on our journey.”
Her spirit momentarily lifted, Moriko''s eyes sparkled with hope as she asked, “Really? I thought he would never let her go.”
Agneyastra entered the room, her figure elegantly draped in black garments, a matching cloak swirling around her form. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as Moriko rose to her feet, swift and graceful, like a bird taking flight. The two women embraced tightly, their connection mirroring the deep bond between them.
Uttering words of empathy, Agneyastra expressed her apologies for the loss Moriko had suffered. The weight of those words hung heavily in the room.
As Agneyastra released Moriko from their embrace, the woman of sorrow glanced at her companions with newfound determination flickering in her eyes. “Come,” Moriko proclaimed softly, her voice interlaced with both determination and a touch of urgency, “We must not keep Jeremy and Lee waiting. I do not want to be late.”
As the sun began to cast its warm golden hues across the vast expanse of the Earth Kingdom, the towering mountain-like castle stood regal and proud. Emathion and Agneyastra, Moriko, followed her with unwavering trust. Leaving behind the deserted Stone City, they embarked through a narrow tunnel that led them to the enchanting Green Forest.
Moriko, adorned with a vibrant green bracelet, held sacred affinity towards nature. With a gentle touch, she awakened dormant powers within the ancient tree, causing a vibrant green portal to materialize before them. Stepping through the ethereal gateway, they were transported to a realm.
Guiding her companions like a luminary amidst shadows, Moriko led Emathion and Agneyastra through the dense foliage of the verdant woods. Emerging from the tranquil forest, they now found themselves on the outskirts of a bustling highway, its asphalt veins winding through the land like an intricate tapestry.
Approaching a sleek and gleaming car patiently waiting by the roadside, the trio was greeted by the driver, Dylan, a man possessed of a crown of golden tresses. Moriko, Emathion, and Agneyastra climbed into the vehicle, their presence eliciting a sense of anticipation in the air. Warm greetings filled the confined space as familiarity blended effortlessly with respect.
As the car embarked on its journey, wheels spinning in harmony with destiny, landscapes and landmarks blurred by in a dazzling display. The passing scenery held echoes of forgotten tales and whispered secrets, a mélange of the mundane and the extraordinary. After what felt like an eternity, the car came to a halt in front of an imposing apartment building, its stature commanding attention in the urban landscape.
Dylan skillfully navigated the maze-like parking garage, effortlessly maneuvering through the labyrinthine structure. With a shared sense of purpose, they ascended towards the sanctuary of the apartment building.
As Moriko clutched Emathion''s hand tightly, the group made their way through the labyrinthine corridors, guided by Agneyastra''s unwavering presence. Each elevator ride seemed to stretch for an eternity, with every ding of the floor announcing another step towards their destination. Finally, the doors slid open, revealing a room filled with an eerie solemnity.
Every occupant in the room adorned themselves in black mourning attire, their tear-streaked faces reflecting the weight of their grief. Jeremy, numb and lost in his sorrow, stood near the window. He stared out into the distance, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. Beside him, his nephew Lee, dressed in a black flowing dress, mirrored his desolation, gazing out into the same melancholic abyss.
Dylan, leading Moriko, Emathion, and Agneyastra, silently approached Jeremy and Lee. Dylan''s voice, tender yet laced with emotion, pierced the solemn silence. “Jeremy and Lee, look who has come,” he said, his words softly breaking through the heavy air.
Jeremy and Lee stood side by side, their excitement evident as they embraced Moriko and Emathion in a warm hug. “I am glad you could make it,” Jeremy said, a genuine gleam in his eyes. “Lacey and Kasey would''ve loved it.”
But as Jeremy turned his gaze to the figure standing behind them, he was momentarily stunned, captivated by Agneyastra''s ethereal presence. She donned a flowing black dress, accentuated by a graceful cloak. Her purple skin seemed to shimmer in the light, complemented by her striking emerald eyes.
Agneyastra, demonstrating a regal demeanor, lightly bowed. “I am Agneyastra,” she introduced herself, her voice silky smooth. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Jeremy and Lee. Moriko and Emathion have always spoken highly of you and your esteemed family.”
Moriko''s voice interjected, her words shattering the enchanting aura around them. “Agneyastra says Jeremy is not a royal,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Agneyastra''s gaze shifted towards Jeremy, her apologetic eyes searching his. “I am sorry,” she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. “Your family seemed very noble, Jeremy.”
A profound sadness washed over Jeremy, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. “They were the best,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “It is nice to meet you, but please, give me a moment.” With a heavy heart, he stepped away, seeking solace, and Lee followed him without hesitation.
Meanwhile, Moriko stood steadfastly beside Agneyastra, a resolute expression on her face. In the face of Jeremy''s pain, “Let''s see if we can assist in another way,” she suggested to Agneyastra, her voice filled with determination and compassion.
***
Late afternoon enveloped the Water Kingdom palace, casting gentle rays of golden sunlight through the tall windows. Devereaux, clad in regal attire, paced purposefully down the ornate hall, his eyes filled with determination. By his side walked Marius, his brother, a hint of skepticism etched upon his face.
“I believe Evain is planning an uprising,” Devereaux whispered with a sense of urgency.
Marius, his voice laced with concern, replied, “What? I told you not to drink so much wine, brother. Your imagination is running wild.”
Ignoring his brother''s protests, Devereaux tightened his grip on Marius'' arm, propelling him forward. “I have been carefully observing our sister''s actions, Marius. There is a darkness looming within her.”
Marius shook his head slightly, disbelief etching across his features. “Evain would never act against father''s wishes. You are mistaken, Devereaux.”
The two brothers halted at a discreet vantage point, hidden within a dimly lit hallway. They watched as Evain, their sister, gracefully led two soldiers towards her chambers. Her eyes darted around, searching for any prying eyes before she disappeared into the sanctuary of her room.
Devereaux pointed towards Evain''s quarters, his voice hushed yet determined. “See, brother? Yesterday, she entered her room with three ladies from the court. Do you not find it suspicious?”
Devereaux''s grip tightened on Marius''s arm as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway of the Water Kingdom Palace. The air seemed heavy with an unspoken tension. Each step they took echoed off the marble floors, a stark reminder of the gravity of their mission. Their destination - Evain''s bedroom.
Marius, his voice filled with caution, urged his brother to halt. “Devereaux, stop!” he pleaded, his eyes scanning the corridor nervously.
Devereaux''s eyes burned with determination, his voice low and intense. “She grows stronger every day, Marius. If she plans on overtaking father, we need to confront her.”
Marius stepped closer to Devereaux, his hand on his brother''s shoulder pleading for reason. “Devereaux, I think you are projecting your own desires onto Evain. We cannot jump to conclusions.”
But Devereaux brushed off his brother''s concerns, pushing past him and marching closer to Evain''s room. Marius blocked his way, knowing the chaos that lay behind those doors, the pleasurable moans that reached their ears.
“I don''t want to hear or see our sister engaged in such activities,” Marius said, his voice filled with a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. “Come on, Devereaux. This isn''t right.”
But Devereaux couldn''t be swayed. His eyes ablaze with righteous anger, he took one step closer to the forbidden room. “We must tell mother,” he declared, his conviction unwavering.
Marius recoiled at the suggestion. “No, Devereaux. Mother''s wrath knows no bounds. Those soldiers will be killed.”
Devereaux''s footsteps echoed through the grand hallway of the Water Kingdom Palace as he strode away from his brother Marius. Anger burned in his eyes, and his voice carried a weight of disappointment and disbelief. “Why? So, those soldiers can get away with dishonoring our Kingdom by carrying on with our sister in such a disgraceful manner?” With each word, his frustration grew, and he quickened his pace, leaving Marius behind.
Marius hurriedly made his way back to Evain''s bedroom. He knocked repeatedly on the door, desperately calling out for her. “Evain, Evain!”
The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the sound of the latch being lifted. Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing Evain standing before her brother in nothing but a thin robe. Confusion and concern etched upon her face, she gazed at Marius, waiting for an explanation.
Marius wasted no time as his eyes landed on the two men sprawled on Evain''s bed, their clothing carelessly thrown aside. With a resolute determination, Marius strode over to a pile of armor and clothing discarded nearby. Grabbing the garments, he tossed them forcefully at the men on the bed, urging them to cover their shame.
“You have to leave now!” Marius commanded, his voice filled with a mix of anger and protectiveness.
As the men hurriedly dressed themselves, Evain''s eyes darted between her brother and the soldiers, the implications of their actions dawning on her. Conflicted emotions crossed her face, and she finally whispered, her voice a blend of confusion and disappointment, “What are you doing, Marius?”
Marius he declared, “They are in danger.”
As Marius urgently urges the two soldiers to hastily dress and flee from Evain''s bedroom, a sense of tension fills the air. The soldiers stumble, trying to collect themselves, their faces reflecting both confusion and a hint of fear. Evain, her eyes downcast and filled with remorse, musters the courage to speak. “I am sorry, brother,” she whispers.
Marius paces back and forth in front of Evain. The dim candlelight in the room accentuates the shadows of worry and frustration etched onto his face. With a controlled tone, Marius directs his words towards his sister, his voice tight with concern. “Evain, you must understand the gravity of every move you make. Devereaux has observed your interactions with these soldiers, and I fear he may report it to mother. We cannot risk their lives any further. They must leave, and they must leave now.”
The weight of Marius''s words hangs heavily in the room, causing a lull in the atmosphere. Evain, her heart heavy with guilt, finally lifts her gaze to meet her brother''s eyes. Her voice barely above a whisper, she seeks reassurance. “Brother, are you angry with me?”
In response, Marius stops his pacing and stands directly in front of Evain. Their faces a mere breath apart, the tension between them palpable. With a mixture of frustration and love, Marius speaks with measured firmness, his words reverberating in the confined space of the room. “No, Evain. I am not angry. But you must understand the consequences of your actions. Devereaux watches your every move. You have endangered not only their lives but their entire family. In the future, you must be more discreet.”
Evain, filled with determination, looked his brother in the eye and declared, “I promise you, I will improve.”