Ren couldn't help but feel a sting of sympathy for him. Hellic was bright, smart, and kind. His twentieth birthday was a major affair and Ren had looked forward to celebrating him with the rest of the city all year. King Callun's decision to send Ren off to negotiate trade agreements with the lord of the Isle of Moraen had come completely out of the blue three weeks ago. Ren had been outraged. He could negotiate trades any other day of the year; there was no reason for it to be on his brother's birthday. But the king had been adamant, and no matter what Ren said, he wouldn't budge. It felt like a punch in the face. Ren had searched his memory for anything he might have done to anger the king, but could think of nothing. Now, Hellic had to face their unpleasant guests from the neighbouring country without Ren at his back. Ren couldn't think of a worse way to celebrate a birthday.

“I don't know why Father even let them come,” Hellic continued sourly, ignoring the people around them calling out congratulations and praising them on their impressive kill. The streets of the upper district had been lavishly decorated. Gold and white ribbons cascaded down the front of buildings and flowers bobbed in bowls of water on stairs and doorsteps. The large, open space surrounding Frayne's old, circular sanctuary building that on any other day was the scene of the city's largest marketplace, had been vacated, swept and tidied.

“I don't think you can really turn down a king,” Ren said, smiling at a woman holding up her young daughter who waved both hands in the air in greeting.

“Father is a king, too!”

From behind Ren, Niklas laughed. “You don't want to start another Frayne-Skarlan war over a birthday invitation, do you?”

Whatever Hellic was going to say in answer was cut off when a massive chestnut war horse came down the street towards them and stopped in their path, its hoof beats loud against the cobblestones.

Berin, captain of the Royal Guard, bowed to them from his saddle.

“Prince Hellic, your father wants you back home at once. Everything is on its tail thanks to our early arrivals,” Berin said, panting like he had just run a mile. The two silver stud earrings that identified him as a member of the royal guard reflected the sharp sunlight. His breastplate with the curving antlers had clearly been polished for the occasion. “King Callun wants to see you also, Ren. Urgently.”

Berin spun his horse around almost before he had finished speaking, his large stature cutting a path through the gathering crowd like a rock splitting a stream. Ren followed on his mare with Hellic alongside him, the two of them exchanging a glance.