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“I’m sorry,” the princess replied. A tentative hand found its way onto Riure’s arm. “Do you have any other family? I have a mother and my uncle, but they’re always so busy.” Her voice trailed off, then she seemed to shake herself. “And I have an older brother, Gavril.”

Riure smiled. The brother who was almost as ugly as the beasts they’d fought? Probably. Chances were, the way the princess spoke of him, he was actually rather handsome, and Princess Liorah just liked to tease him.

The question hurt, kind of. If Riure had blood relations, she didn’t know them. They hadn’t stepped forward after her mother died to claim her, so either one: they hadn’t known; two: they hadn’t cared; or three: they didn’t exist. She had a family by faith, but not one by blood.

A thud broke through Riure’s ponderings. Someone muttered something indiscernible. Male. Walked as if he didn’t care who heard him. Had one of the others sat up and banged their head on the ceiling? Riure straightened, but her head didn’t touch. They must be tall. Either that or in a small space.

“What in the–?” someone said. Same person, probably. Riure searched her mental catalogs and couldn’t pick out who his voice belonged to. He had an accent though, the same clipped one as the princess’.

Instantly the warmth emanating from the princess vanished as she leapt to her feet. Her lopsided limping made its way across the room in the voice’s direction, then her voice came back, loud and clear.

“You idiot!” Fondness were in the words.

Riure laughed clearly. She could totally see the princess saying that.

“You look even worse than usual,” the new male voice remarked, and clothing rustled. Riure found her feet, gently resting Sadiq’s head against the floor. “Princess?”

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