She frowned darkly at the snooty, golden-clad [Knights] who kept looking down at Meltain, despite having been saved by them. But the Thronebearers politely bowed to her and Culin when they noticed, before going back to watching the two [Knights] attacking and parrying with training swords and shields.

“Here. Come on.”

There was a crack in the keep’s walls, a large one. Risel had planted a shrub to hide it and keep some animals out, but hiring a [Stonemason] had been one of those things that Lantal had been meaning to do when there was some spare coin—since before Sasi had been born.

To the children, it was a glorious portal to freedom. They squeezed through the gap, Sasi first, then Culin.

As always, her little brother was less adept than Sasi.

“It’s too tight!”

He complained. Sasi glowered.

“You’re smaller than I am! Just wiggle properly! Not up! I thought you wanted to be a [Knight]? Father’s faster than you are! Hurry up! I think someone’s coming!”

One of the Thronebearers was headed their way. Culin wriggled desperately. Sasi grabbed one of his arms and pulled—

He came through the hole with the sound of fabric tearing. The Thronebearer stopped and stared at the bush in some surprise, but he didn’t see Sasi and Culin running down the hill towards town.

Only when they were away did Sasi check the damage. Culin had torn his sleeve, ripping the stitching.

She was appalled.

“Look what you did!”

“I didn’t mean to! You pulled me! How bad is it?”

“Bad. Mother’s going to ask what it was. Culin! Why couldn’t you wriggle properly? You’re so slow!

You—”

The boy’s eyes had welled up with tears. Sasi stopped lecturing guiltily. Culin punched at her.

“It’s not my fault!”

“Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“I hate you! I’m going to be a famous adventurer and never come back!”

“You’re not a [Warrior]!”

The two began fighting as they hurried towards the modest town, away from the watchful eyes of the keep. It too had a wall—but one of wood. You needed walls in Afiele.

Culin ran ahead of Sasi, his pent-up boredom and worry over his sleeve turned to fury. He rounded on Sasi and struck at her again.

“I am so! I’ll be as good a warrior as Dad!”

“You mean, Father. And no you’re not. You’re slow. See? Hah!”

Sasi slashed out with her left hand, as if she were wielding a sword. She chopped Culin just as he lunged at her to prove how good he was and hit him hard in the nose.

He fell down. Then he started crying. Sasi felt guilty at once.

“Culin—”

“I hate you!”