Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 3

“Princess Philomena.”

“Just Meena.” Quickly correcting the speaker, Meena’s mouth spoke the words before her mind fully recognized her older brother’s teasing voice. She crossed her arms, squinting her eyes into a glare at Onric’s approach.

“Sorry, Phil.” Onric lightly punched her shoulder as he strode by her without stopping.

“At least that’s better than Phil-o-mena,” Meena muttered, lurching forward as she attempted to punch her brother in return. Since he was already out of her reach, she stumbled forward as her arm swung wide. “Ornery.”

Her brother’s confident swagger faltered for a moment.

Meena felt her frustration bend into a wry grin. Running forward a few steps, she threw her arm over her brother’s shoulders. “You’ve been so good-natured since you met Ashlin, I haven’t had a reason to call you ‘Ornery Onric’ in far too long. Maybe I should tell Ashlin about that one. She’d probably find a better use for it than me.”

Onric shrugged her arm from his shoulder. “Don’t you dare mention that old name to her,” he hissed.

Meena batted her eyelashes and flipped her long braid over her shoulder. “Too late. Already did.” Dancing forward as quickly as possible, Meena skillfully moved herself out of Onric’s reach.

Fortunately, he was too frozen in shock to give her another good-natured punch.

Laughing at the look on his face, Meena decided to keep the upper hand by ending the conversation and continuing down the hall toward her destination.

“You didn’t? Right?” Onric called after her as she dashed away. “You’re jesting with me?”

Meena danced with her feet as she ran, swinging her hips just enough to flair out the edge of her skirt. Maybe she was too old to be acting like—well, like such a little girl—but she didn’t care. Teasing her brothers was more than worth it.

Another brother, the eldest, walked toward her. Ian’s stride held a speed and purpose which reminded Meena of their father. His face was tense, and his eyes hardly seemed to register her existence as he walked around her.

Meena knew her older brother had plenty of things to be legitimately worried about, such as the fact that the neighboring king had tried to murder Erich, or the fact that everything they knew about the exiled Majis had been wrong.

“Beware of Onric!” Meena called after Ian, ensuring her voice carried down the stone halls. She knew she was being cheeky, but even Ian deserved a reason to smile despite the current situation. “He’s feeling ornery today!”

Ian stopped, turning on his heel to face her. His frown had deepened.

Meena rolled her eyes. She should have known Ian would miss the silly tone of her voice.

“I was jesting,” she explained, feeling as though all the fun had been stolen out of the moment. “Ornery Onric?”

Ian nodded once in recognition. The confusion on his face melted slightly as he seemed to realize her words were not noteworthy enough to stop whatever important activity he was headed toward.

When his back was turned, Meena rolled her eyes again. He didn’t have to be so serious all the time. She was worried about all the same things, but at least she was keeping a cheerful face.

Meena squeezed her own eyes shut for a moment, missing a beat of the easy pace she was sounding on the stone floor. A small hollow feeling bloomed in her chest as she exhaled. Ian was the crown prince. Onric was the captain of the castle guard. They were both skilled tacticians and swordsmen.

Meena corrected the motion of her hips, adjusting her stride to mimic Ian’s purposeful movements. She was . . . just the youngest. The only daughter after four sons.

As she rounded the corner, Meena barely had time to recognize another body racing toward her. She quickly jumped out of the way as Erich tripped over his own feet, trying to slow down enough to round the corner.

Meena embraced the smile that naturally relaxed her face. It was typical of Erich to be making a mad dash through the castle halls. He knew how to enjoy himself despite the copious amounts of worry that were probably running through his mind as well.

“If you quicken your pace, you’ll fall flat on your face!” Meena raised her voice, hoping it sounded as commanding as her mother’s had all those times the queen had reprimanded Meena for running inside the palace.

Erich waved his hand dismissively without turning back to face her. “I’m late.”

“For what?” Meena called after him.

“Don’t tell Mum!” Erich disappeared down the hall.

Meena felt her eyes start to roll again, and she blinked away the instinct. Her mother had once told her that her eyes would be permanently stuck in the wrong position if she kept rolling them so frequently. Meena was fairly certain her mother had been jesting, but she didn’t want to find out.

Continuing down the now empty hall, Meena shook the worry from her mind. Perhaps she would show Celesta some of her favorite secret tunnels today. They could pretend they were spies and sneak around the castle, gathering information. She could even hide a treasure in the tunnel below the old ruins . . .

Meena stopped.

She slowly turned around, staring in the direction that Ian, Onric, and Erich had all been heading. Was Erich late for a meeting that involved all three of her brothers?

He had to be.

And of course she hadn’t been invited. They were probably trying to protect her from something as though she was still in her twelfth greenreign and not her eighteenth.

Or had they not invited her because she talked too much?

Meena blinked rapidly, inhaling sharply through her nose. They didn’t say it often, but Meena knew Ian and Aden found her constant chatter annoying. She’d seen the restrained patience in their eyes when she’d tried to join important discussions. Her father probably felt the same way, though his expression would never betray it.

Meena retraced her steps. Her stride was as purposeful as Ian’s now, and she wasn’t even forcing it.

As expected this late in the afternoon, the council room was empty.

She entered it regardless and made her way around the long table which ran the length of the hall. The far side of the room split into a low hallway. Her father often worked in a small study near the council room. It was the perfect place for a moment of peace between important meetings—or for holding more private conversations.

Feeling like a cypher, she quietly made her way down the hall. The door to her father’s study was closed.

Meena instinctively reached for the handle but her hand stopped just short of opening it. She had never before hesitated to bother her father while he worked. For all his stern facial expressions, King Frederich always welcomed her presence. If he was having an important conversation, he would merely ask her to leave and return at a better time—which is exactly what he would do if she burst into a private meeting between him and her brothers that she had not been invited to.

Stealthily hunching her shoulders, Meena sidled past the door and crouched low against the wall on the other side. A real cypher would likely have done a better job of hiding than sitting on the floor of a hallway, but no one came through this hall except to speak to her father. And no one would dare do that if he was in a private meeting. At least she hoped they wouldn’t, but she wasn’t sure if anyone else knew about the private meeting because then it wouldn’t be quite so private. The hallway was empty with nothing else to hide behind, so she didn’t have many options.

Breathing soundlessly through her nose, Meena strained her ears to hear what was being said on the other side of the door.

“They would never believe us.” King Frederich’s voice was quiet and measured, but Meena could still hear her father’s frustration through the wall that separated them.

“We have to try.” That was Onric, ever valiant and straightforward.

“What further proof do you need?” Erich’s voice was loud. Meena could imagine her enthusiastic brother throwing his hand to the side as he asked the question. “My wife can personally confirm everything. Gareth’s treachery, the lies about the Majis, the truth about the harmony magic, and how the Quotidian is using chaos magic in secret.”

“It’s not that simple,” King Frederich responded. “We need more . . .” His voice trailed off.

“You don’t believe her.” Erich’s voice had dropped to a lower pitch. “This isn’t about them, it’s about you. You don’t believe us.”

“No.” King Frederich’s voice was so loud, Meena startled in surprise. “No.” He dropped his tone back down. “You have my full trust and support—”

“And my wife?” Erich cut in. “Does she have your full trust and support?”

“Yes. I was referring to both of you.”

“And her people?” Erich continued to push. “The Majis. Are they still your enemy?”

Meena bit her lips closed so the sound of her breath would not pierce the silence that followed Erich’s question. She believed the Majis were no longer their enemy. Aizel’s revelation about the Isle of Exile and the way her people had been enslaved there appalled and angered Meena.

“No. They are not.” King Frederich paused again. “You are fixated on the wrong problem, it is not my trust you need to earn. I cannot approach the other kingdoms without more proof.”

Meena stood. She wanted to burst through the door and tell her father to see reason. He was a kind and just king—Meena truly believed there had never been a better. It made sense to her that the other kingdoms would not immediately accept Aizel’s statements, but surely they could still do something?

“They would believe us if we attacked Gareth first.” Onric’s direct approach made Meena nod.

“And if they still don’t believe us?” King Frederich’s voice was growing brittle. “If they side with Chendas and turn on us? We do not have the power to attack even Chendas alone, much less defend ourselves against three other kingdoms.”

“Allys would side with us,” Erich responded.

“Allys barely has half our fighting power. Their support would be appreciated, but would not turn the tide of this war.” Ian’s practical voice entered the conversation for the first time.

Meena’s stomach bent into the now familiar uncomfortable twist. The ideal solution wouldn’t involve going to war.

“So what do you plan to do?” Erich no longer sounded like her carefree older brother. “Sit back and wait for the battle to come to us? Just like we’ve always done? The attack is still coming. And it’s not the one we prepared for.”

“We don’t know what Gareth wants. His lack of communication is disconcerting. No threat, no attempt to reconcile—” King Frederich started to respond.

“He wants me dead,” Erich cut him off. “Did you forget that part?”

“Enough.” A hand slammed down on a wooden surface.

Meena jumped backward, the sound of the slap reverberating through the door and tickling her ear. She held in a sigh and rolled her eyes. They were too focused on disagreeing with each other to ask the right questions.

“It’s been three days and we don’t know who has the power here,” her father continued. “Our first priority is to the people of Iseldis.”

“My wife needs to know her family is safe!” Erich continued to raise his voice, speaking louder than the king.

“Are they talking about me?”

Meena’s whole body started in surprise. Her new sister, Aizel, was crouching next to her in the hall. Meena had been so engaged in the conversation happening in the next room that she completely missed Aizel’s quiet approach.

“Sorry!” Aizel whispered, placing a calming hand on Meena’s shoulder.

“No, it’s fine.” Meena smiled a quick welcome. “I was just . . .” She gestured toward the closed door. “And yes, they are.” Meena looked away, embarrassed at her family’s actions. She didn’t want Aizel to be offended by her father’s median stance, but she also was not ready to defend her father’s position to her new sister.

“Do you do this often?” Aizel’s eyes darted around the small hall, taking in the situation. Meena admired her presence of mind. Aizel wouldn’t let anyone approach her by surprise.

“Only when they don’t invite me and I know something is going on,” Meena answered.

King Frederich’s voice cut through the door, stopping further conversation between Meena and Aizel. “We will do everything in our power to help whom we can. But we cannot instantaneously turn our enemies into our allies and our previous allies into our new enemies. We do not even have a representative from the Majis to create an alliance with.”

Meena rolled her eyes again, pinching her lips in exasperation. She turned back toward Aizel to fill her in on what they had been discussing, but Aizel’s hand was on the door.

“They’ll only kick us out,” Meena hissed, grabbing Aizel’s shoulder.

“I won’t let them,” Aizel responded, throwing the door wide open. “Did you ever consider speaking about it with this particular Majis?” Aizel stepped into the room, her eyes scanning each of its occupants.

Meena followed Aizel into the room, avoiding her father’s gaze. “You don’t have to invite me to every meeting,” Meena said. “But at least consider if you are leaving out someone important.” Meena knew her words were more bitter than they needed to be, but it was too late to take them back. She was hurt they hadn’t included her in this family discussion, but it felt even more ridiculous that they hadn’t included Aizel—someone who would have knowledge and an important opinion on the matters at hand.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Erich soothed.

Aizel spun to face him. “This won’t happen again.” Her voice was firm, but not angry. “I didn’t wed you to be coddled and spoiled. I will not rest until my people see justice and I will participate in this conversation.” Her eyes went from Erich’s to King Frederich’s.

Meena pumped her fist in victory.

One day, she would command a room as Aizel did, with confidence, calm, and clarity.