Dark Prince & the Doe

Chapter Seventeen: Bothering Brothers

Chapter Seventeen: Bothering Brothers

Calden

It took Kiren less than twenty minutes to collect everyone and gather them in his room – which had to be a record. Gale, half-dressed, sweaty and grumpy. Larken and Prusen, their hair sopping wet from the cave springs. And Nocturn, who didn't look much in the mood to humor anyone as Kiren dragged him into the room.

"Kiren, I don't see why this can't wait till morning," Nocturn complained, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Oh, hey. Why's everybody here?"

"I told you, this is important. We need to discuss this now," Kiren said, shoving Nocturn the rest of the way into the room, before pulling the door closed.

"Important? Like Larken and Prusen downing a rare bottle of wine important or you've finally driven the Hawkmaster insane important?"

"Like Great War important!" Kiren snarled and pointed at an empty armchair. "Sit!"

"Oh, shit," Prusen said, lifting his lips from the bottle of expensive wine he'd been guzzling. "Is this wine valuable?"

"Was valuable," Kiren snapped, "give me that!" He yanked the bottle of wine out of Prusen's hand and finished off what was left. He slammed the empty bottle onto the table then dropped onto the red velvet couch, casting his arm over his eyes theatrically.

"Well," Larken said, sitting down in an armchair and lacing his fingers together. "Anytime you're ready Kiren."

Kiren pointed an accusing finger in Calden's direction. "Ask him! He's the reason we're all going to die!"

"Oh, Cal." Gale grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "What'd you do this time?"

Before he could get the words out, Kiren answered for him. "By Right of The Hunt, Calden is betrothed to Princessa Cezanne of Atrezino and she hasn't given him a Gift of Denial!"

Gale threw his head back, laughing loudly. Even Prusen let out a few of his weird little hiccup laughs. But Nocturn knew better, his eyes were locked on Kiren and he could read the truth in his tenseness.

"This isn't a joke," Nocturn stated, his voice low. His dark eyes turning to Calden with a shadow's frightfulness.

"Oh, come on. You're not being serious. Are you, Kiren?" Gale said with a grin.

"It's true," Calden said, staring down at his boots. "And she wants us...me and her...to make our countries..." He laced his fingers together. "Form a peace treaty?"

Larken made a wheezing noise which he'd normally take to be a laugh, if not for the anger in his eldest brother's eyes. Larken had been old enough to participate in the war and he did not take such jokes kindly. "Calden –

"I'm not joking, Larken. I need help, otherwise we may end up knee-deep in the Great War again," Calden said and began to explain everything that happened, leaving out the part where he'd shot the princessa – they'd strangle him for that. He paced waving his hands, as he told them what happened at the feast. And for once in his life, none of his brothers interrupted him. Not even Gale. In fact, Gale looked ill. Which was odd, since in all his years, Gale has never caught a single cave chill.

Calden finally told them how he'd left the city in haste, sitting down on the only empty chair and holding his head in his hands. No one spoke. But he knew what everyone was thinking: Calden the Cursed had struck again. And this time his hide hadn't been skinned nor had he thrown up on a priestess's lap during a vigil nor had he run off and hid forcing an unprepared Kiren to give the Solstice Speech for him.