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When she sank our ship and had us traveling on foot through the Bavan jungle, I was furious. But I was far angrier with myself for underestimating her resolve to escape us. A mistake I wouldn't make again. Even though she had several opportunities to escape us, to abandon us, to choose Vesper over me at the ancient temple, she stood by my side, and even put herself between me and certain death on the docks in Kongar.
And now, I'm waiting in Starnborough, pacing like a caged animal in the foyer, hoping and praying, I see her face again. All this time, I saw her as a pawn in my scheme to capture Bastian. Little did I know she was the one pulling all the strings.
"Atlas, I swear to the stars above and seas below, if you don't quit pacing like that, I'm going to punch you square in the jaw." Nyx's voice snatches me from my memories and draws a narrow-eyed glare from me.
"I'm not pacing," I hiss. "I'm stretching my legs."
"Well, can you kindly not stretch your legs anymore?" He chews on a toothpick as he leans against the wall. "It's grating on my last nerve."
I stop, hands clutched behind my back, and stare at my brother. "Is there something else you'd rather me do?"
"Literally anything else."
"Smart ass," I mutter, fighting the urge to start pacing again.
"She'll be alright," Ronan chimes in. He's sitting on the onyx stone steps with his legs outstretched, looking more like a lounging cat than the next King of Tronovia, but he's right. If anyone can hold their own against Uncle Soren, it's her.
"It's been hours," Nyx groans as he stands up straight to crack his back. "How much longer is this going to take? I didn't intend for my entire day to be spent like this."
"And what else did you have planned?" Ronan asks, taking a bite of an apple he seemingly pulls out of thin air.
Nyx's eyes widen. "Where'd you get that?"
Ronan smiles as he takes another bite, the juice dripping down his chin. "You know I'm always prepared with a snack. One never knows if they'll be waiting awhile for their next meal."
"Tell me you have another one." Nyx marches toward our cousin with incredible speed.
"Alas, I do not," Ronan sighs dramatically. "Maybe next time you come to Starnborough, Cousin, you will remember to bring something to munch on."
Nyx isn't wrong. We've been waiting for almost three hours for even a whisper of what's going on in the throne room. I've never known my uncle to take his time in these sorts of meetings. He prefers handling business quickly and cordially before returning to his books or strolling the gardens. Either things are going extremely well between him and the princess or they've gone horribly wrong, and she's being hauled off somewhere without my knowledge.
The very thought that she could be in danger sets my soul ablaze. I keep my face as calm as possible, not wanting to alert my brother and cousin to what I'm actually thinking.
"One would think you'd be excited to get the princess off your hands, Atlas," Ronan teases. "But here you are, pacing, knee bouncing, as if you desperately want to see her again."
Clearly, I'm not doing a good enough job of appearing unbothered.
"Maybe Nyx is right," I dodge his accusations and rake a hand through my hair. "Maybe a snack would do wonders right about now."
"Oh, well, here." Ronan digs into his jacket pocket and fetches another glistening red apple and tosses it to me.
"You said you didn't have another one," Nyx fumes, eyebrows furrowed.
"For you. I didn't have another one for you." The wicked gleam playing across Ronan's lips is enough to draw a smirk from me.
"I hate you." My brother huffs, plops down opposite of Ronan, and glares at him.
Before our cousin has a chance for rebuttal, my uncle appears at the top of the grand staircase. My heartbeat quickens when I see he's alone. A thousand questions zoom through my mind, but the only one that matters is:
"Where is the princess?" The question slips, drawing three sets of eyes.
My uncle smiles as she comes up from behind him. "Shaye and I have had a wonderful chat. That being said, she is welcome to stay in Tronovia for as long as she likes," Uncle Soren says, before his eyes latch onto Nyx who hops up from his lounged position. "Nyx, I have decided that you will be the princess' personal guard during the entirety of her stay. If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible."
Nyx's eyes widen. "Me? What about Atlas?"
"Unlike you, Nephew, both of your older brothers already have employment. You, however, do not and could use the lesson in daily responsibility. Especially seeing as you left quite the mess at a local bar the night before you shipped out to Midori."
Nyx closes his eyes, tilts his head upward, and groans. "Shit."
