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“What was that?” Azriel asked.

“A wedding announcement,” Zavian took his seat in the leather chair by the window where a boulder of wine waited for him. He poured himself a cup, and in another, he poured Azriel one and raised the cup in offer.

Azriel did not take it as he came closer. “No, please. The Duke was just sugarcoating his words. You know what will happen, Zavian.”

“Humour me, Azriel.”

“All it takes is one Kingdom to convince the rest that you aren’t fit to rule as King with Neera by your side. It might not even take one Kingdom, everyone there might be planning against you as we speak.”

Zavian sipped his wine. “They won’t.”

“Your Majesty, I need you to listen to me,” Azriel’s words were released through clenched teeth. “Take Kitana. Just marry her for marriage’s sake…”

He stopped when there was yelling behind the door. The stomping and the screaming got closer, and Zavian waited for the person to make an entrance. Minutes later, the door opened with force, and a fuming Freya stalked in, and as usual, she was a tempest of fury and fire. She headed straight for her brother.

.....

“What is wrong with you?!” She screamed, but Azriel was faster and had her locked in his arms before she could do any damage to the King herself.

“I heard what you did! And let me go!” She tried to use her elbows to jab Azriel behind her, and let out another scream when that failed. “You cannot make her your wife, brother. You know that.”

“Why not?” Zavian asked in that same simple manner with a tilt of his head, like a demon without worries, as he sipped his wine.

Freya stopped fighting Azriel, and she gave an incredulous chuckle.

“No, no, I understand better now. Why did you let him get drunk before the meeting, Azriel? Look at how he had spewed that foolish announcement in front of the Dukes. We have you to blame Azriel, for not looking after your friend,” she murmured something, and nodded her head as she spoke on,

“I get it now, he wanted to say Lyra, but it came off as Neera. Lyra, Neera, Neera, Lyra; both names rhymes, and he mixed them up, and they misunderstood that their King was only intoxicated. We have to give them a reason though, yes!” Freya snapped her fingers repeatedly, but Azriel still held her firmly in his arms.

“We tell them that the King has been drinking ever since the loss of his Queen, they will understand. Azriel, we have to go now.” Freya said to the demon behind her.

“You would do no such thing,” Zavian said.

Freya’s eyes grew wide. “I am trying to cover up for your mistake, Brother.”

“And I made no mistake when I made my decision. You will not go there and say some foolish story that isn’t true. I forbid it.”

“And I unforbid it,” Freya hissed. “It is high time someone took matters into their own hands in this castle. I refuse to sit back and watch you marry that maid.”

Zavian set down the cup and rose from his chair. He approached his sister with calculated steps and stood right in front of her. Freya seethed up at him, her body still barred by Azriel’s arms.

“Her name is Neera, and when she becomes Queen, you will refer to her as Queen.”

“I would rather die in the hands of Aloysius.”

The flashes came before Zavian. Lilah in Aloysius’ hands, he rushing to her bare moments before Aloysius killed her, and forever took a piece of him with her death.

Zavian took one step toward his sister, a vein twitching in his jaw.

“This will be the last time you will make such an utterance,” he said in a voice sharp enough to slice the skin off her. “And this is the last time you would refer to the Queen-to-be as a maid.”

Freya gave him a sly smile. “Or what will you do? Kill me? Threaten to send me to the underworld? Will you go through all that trouble of opening the portal just for someone like me to get in after strengthening it? Will all the great witch Eloise’s effort be in vain? What will you do, brother?”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her, a silent warning.

“Leave,” Zavian said.

“You never listen to me. Only use me when it aligns with what you want. For this once, I ask you to not marry that…”

“…Freya…,” Azriel called her name to stop her.

“…that maid,” Freya drawled on the word with pleasure. “Don’t be selfish, Brother.”

Zavian held her gaze as she spoke, and didn’t say anything for a long, long time. Freya’s heavy breathing filled the space between them, and finally, Zavian’s eyes raised to meet Azriel’s.

“Take her to the dungeons,” Zavian ordered.

Azriel’s arm went slack around Freya. “Your Majesty…”

“Take her now, and that is an order.”

“You can’t put me in the dungeons,” Freya shouted. “I am your sister. You cannot imprison me in my own home too!”

“Azriel,” Zavian’s tone was final. The Commander General looked helplessly between the two siblings, and he lowered his head, taking one step back, a refusal on his part.

“Guards!” Zavian called.

At once, three guards hurried inside the room. Zavian pointed at his sister.

“Take her to the dungeons at once,” he ordered.

The guards froze, and when they recovered, they advanced toward Freya. No one was too close before Freya had her claws and fangs out, daring them on. They backed away from one of the most powerful fighters known to all, and as she focused on them, she was oblivious as to when Zavian was behind her.

It happened so fast. Her arms were snapped back, and she screeched in refusal as Zavian bound her arms with a rope. The guards moved quickly, lifting her up on either arm.

“You know you are going to regret this, Brother,” Freya hissed as they carted her away.