The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(8)

“I know.”

Kol reached Brig just as she was raising her mug to her lips. Snatching it from her hands, he said, “I’ll take that.”

His sister glared, her golden eyes a match for his. “Give it back, Kol.”

He held it high above his head as she grabbed for it. She settled for smacking his shoulder instead.

“That’s mine.”

He started to laugh, but quickly swallowed it at the look of hurt that flashed across her face. “It’s yours when you turn seventeen, Brigynaske, and not a single day before.”

“I’m nearly seventeen.”

He raised a brow while beside him, Mik crossed her arms over her chest, and Raum began tapping his boots against the floor. “You’re fourteen.”

“Close enough.” Brig’s tone was full of bravado and longing.

Kol remembered when he’d first sneaked into one of his brother’s parties, hoping to pass as far more grown-up than he was. He’d learned two things that day. One, feeling grown-up enough to guzzle mead in a dark corner until one’s older brother caught you wasn’t the same as being grown-up enough to keep the mead down for any respectable length of time. Kol still shuddered when he remembered that particular bout of sickness. And two, Ragvanisnar truly did throw the most boring parties in the entire world. Who else would include a chess tournament and a dramatic reading of Finlerbenske the Great but forget to hire a band or invite any girls?

Brig reached for the mug again, and Mik deftly snatched it from Kol’s hand and disappeared into the crowd. Before Brig’s pout could finish forming, Kol looped his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the storeroom door.

“You know the law, Brig. No mead until you come of age. No parties where I have to constantly watch to make sure you aren’t sneaking some behind my back, either.” He squeezed her close to take the sting out of his words. “Besides, I’m going to be in enough trouble as it is. Do you really want to be the final torch in my funeral pyre?”

She sighed heavily but didn’t resist as he reached for the doorknob. “I just wanted to try it.”

“You have your aerial defense exam tomorrow, right?”

She shrugged.

“I’ll let you in on a secret. We Draconi might be able to shift into our dragons while hungover, but flying in a straight line is torture, and Master Eiler is going to ask much more of you than a simple straight-line flight. You can’t pass your exam if you drink tonight.”

“And you can’t pass your final cadet exams when you’ve been expelled.” She smirked at him.

He doubled over, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Brig.”

She rolled her eyes. “Wait until Father hears about this. He was only able to get you reinstated the last two times because he and Master Eiler are friends.”

“And because, sky forbid, we have a prince in the family who doesn’t graduate from Eiler’s.” He deepened his voice to mimic his father’s. “With honors. With honors upon honors.”

Brig’s face softened, and she wrapped a hand around his. “You could graduate with honors. You’re smarter than everyone else in your class.”

“I beg to disagree.” Raum sounded offended.

Kol smiled, though it felt stretched too tight as Brig’s words found their mark and burrowed deep. Leaning close, he said, “Why show them what they’ve never bothered to see?”

Before she could answer, he straightened and said sternly. “Now, off to your rooms where you will study for your exam or paint your talons or do whatever it is fourteen-year-old Eldrian princesses do when they aren’t busy trying to sneak some of their brother’s mead.”

“Fine.” She gave him one last glare, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. “But I’m only going because you’re already in enough trouble and I feel sorry for you.”

He opened the door with a flourish, though her pity scraped at something he didn’t want to acknowledge. How was it possible that his fourteen-year-old sister could see him so clearly while his own father never saw him at all?

As Brig disappeared down the hall, Kol wiped his expression clean and turned back to the party. He grabbed the closest mug, drained it, and shouted “More music! More dancing! More mead!”

He had five hours before his parents returned from giving Rag a tour of the war front and called him to task for his actions.

He had no intention of showing up for that conversation sober.

The band played their last song at dawn. Most of the senior cadets had long since left for the dorms located on the spacious academy grounds just west of the castle’s bulky stone exterior. Of Kol’s closest friends, only Jyn and Trugg remained.

Determined to make the most of what would likely be his last hour of freedom, Kol turned toward his friends, executed a proper bow, and held out his hand to Jyn.

“May I have this dance?”

“Skies above, I thought you’d never ask.” Trugg thrust his meaty palm into Kol’s and slammed his shoulder into the prince in what had to be the worst attempt at a pirouette Kol had ever seen.

“Not you, you ugly lizard.” Kol shook his hand free and laughed. “Her.”

Trugg grinned. “I’m a better dancer.”

“Your dancing could take out an entire row of innocent Eldrian maidens in one fell swoop.” Jyn elbowed her way past Trugg, swatting at him when he pulled on her short dark hair.