RHEIN'S POINT OF VIEW
I pounded hard on his door, the echo filling the hallway. A few long moments passed before it creaked open.
Brother Dylan stood there, half-asleep, eyes barely open, hair tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed.
"Hm?"
Irritation boiled over. Every ounce of rage I'd been holding back surged, ready to snap his bones in return for what he did to me. "You—"
"Oh, you're here," he cut me off with a smile.
Before I could react, everything blurred. He bent time. The next thing I knew, I was lying on his bed—right beside him.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, my voice sharp with anger.
"Hugging you," he said casually, as if my fury meant nothing. His grin widened even as his eyelids drooped with feigned drowsiness.
I shoved at the arm draped across my stomach, but he didn't budge. His grip was too strong.
"Let me go, or I'll tell Sister Rona," I threatened, glaring daggers at him.
"How could a stuffed toy possibly have a sibling?" he murmured.
Stuffed toy? My brows furrowed. Is he... dreaming? I studied his face, but he only seemed more amused.
His arms tightened around me. "Damn. You're so soft." His voice dropped to a whisper, sending a shiver down my spine. He pulled me closer, bare chest against me, only a pair of black shorts covering him. His breath brushed my neck, far too intimate, far too close.
Flustered, I let my gaze wander around his room. The cream-colored walls and neatly arranged furniture were surprisingly simple compared to my own. Everything's orderly, too perfect. Not at all the messy lair I expected from him.
Where is Tyler? The window stood wide open—he must have slipped out.
I shoved at his arm again. "Brother Dylan, wake up!" I shook his shoulder hard. He only smiled and closed his eyes tighter. "Hey!"
"A bee stuffed toy that talks," he muttered with amusement. "Awesome."
My jaw clenched. First, he broke my bones. Now he dared insult me, comparing me to a bee plushie of all things?
No matter how much I struggled, he refused to let go. At that point, I wasn't sure if he was asleep or just pretending.
My anger reached its limit. With a snap, I twisted his arm until it cracked.
"Aaahhh!" His scream echoed through the room.
Before he could process what happened, I teleported. Unfortunately, my spell was still unstable, and instead of landing in my own room, I reappeared inside a vacant guest chamber. I burst into laughter at my own miscalculation.
Well, I could always add more injuries to him later. What I'd done was barely enough payback.
DYLAN'S POINT OF VIEW
"How was it?" Tyler asked as he slipped in through the open window, smirking.
I glared at him. "Here. Broken arm," I snapped, dripping with sarcasm.
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I carefully pulled a white shirt over my head with my good arm, cradling the fractured one to avoid another sharp stab of agony. The skin was already darkening—proof of Rhein's wrath.
"You already wronged the princess, then you went and pulled a stunt like that. What did you expect?" Tyler shook his head.
I winced but let out a bitter chuckle. If I hadn't pretended to be dreaming, maybe I wouldn't have ended up with a broken arm. Still... it was worth it.
A smile crept across my face as Rhein's scowling expression replayed in my mind. She was unbelievably cute when she was serious—and furious.
"You're smiling again," Tyler teased.
I shook my head, still grinning. "She never fails to amaze me."
RHEIN'S POINT OF VIEW
I still felt proud at the thought of Brother Dylan's broken arm as I returned to my room. Inside, I found Forelody and Natre perched on my bed, their heads bowed, looking like they were deep in prayer.
Forelody glared the moment she saw me. "Pracien, seriously? You broke Dylan's arm?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You retaliated without thinking?"
I smirked and nodded. "Serves him right. I was ready to fight fair, but instead, he pretended to be asleep and decided to toy with me. I couldn't let that slide." My irritation flared again at the memory.
A bee stuffed toy? Of all the things he could compare me to, why that? Am I buzzing? Fat? What was he trying to say?!
"Tyler already admitted Dylan's prank when we went there," Natre explained. "He apologized on his pracien's behalf."
My brows furrowed. "If you knew the reason, why are you mad at me?" I asked Forelody.
She sighed. "The nhar passed by the hallway earlier. Her Majesty already knows what happened, and she said you'll be having a talk later." She crossed her tiny wings. "And as for me? I'm frustrated at your recklessness, Rhein. You don't control your anger. What happens when the time finally comes?"
I blinked. "What do you mean by that?"
She looked away, then darted out the window without another word.
"Forelody!" I called after her. But she was gone.
I turned to Natre. She only shook her head. "Maybe, she meant the time when you'll take part in leading Mnarra."
That made sense. I nodded slowly. "Perhaps."
We made our way to the dining hall together, stopping by Rona's room on the way. She didn't answer, and Natre said she probably worked late last night. For some reason, I had always thought princesses had an easy life, but after learning what my sister had to endure, I knew better.
"Good morning, Princess," I greeted the maids we passed. They bowed, and I gave them small smiles in return, though their deference still made me uneasy.
When we entered the dining hall, everyone else was already there. Silence weighed heavy over the room, broken only by the clinking of silverware.
I kept my eyes on my plate, avoiding Forelody's gaze. She was still sulking.
Lifting my glass, I risked a glance at Brother Dylan. His arm showed no trace of injury. He must have already gone to the royal healer.
"Rhein, Justin, Dylan," Father's voice cut through the silence, his tone was low. "We'll talk after this."
My stomach knotted at the weight in his voice.
"Yes, Your Majesty."