Chapter 4: Blood That Bonds

The princess of the kingdom he'd been trying to overtake was standing outside of his cave. The wind blowing her thin shawl off of her shoulders and up into the wind. She cried out and began chasing after it. Then tripped and fell with a wail, her arms flying up in surprise. Her knees started bleeding and she was began bawling her eyes out.

Sylas sighed, "Oh come in already, you halfwit."

That's how Sylas found himself, dropping Hicos Healing Drops onto her knees, as she sat sniffling on his chaise lounge. For a moment he wondered if someone had cast a madness jinx on him. He wouldn't put it past his old teacher.

Three years of scheming and plotting and overthrowing. Not so much a foot shoulder at his doorstep - the wards eviscerate anything with ill intent. Now, in the span of a month, he was hosting two blonde women. Perhaps he should invest in a larger dining table. Sweep up the mice bones once in awhile.

"Princess Macadamia, what are you doing here." It wasn't a question, rather like a crude comment meaning Please get out.

She pouted at him. "It's Macaenia, and you know that."

Sylas twirls a strand of his hair and drapes himself over the armchair closes to the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, blue flames alight inside it. "Yes, well, you've always been a peanut-head but that's beside the point. What do you want?" he drawls out.

She pouts and flattens out her dress, "Why're you being so cold. You're acting like we're strangers."

"I've been trying to kill your father for the past three years. I can't say I did it in the spirit of camaraderie."

"Our father," she corrects and he flinches at her tone. "You haven't been home in ages."

"I was there last month. Dropping arsenic into daddy dearests treasured wine collection."

She smiles softly, "I haven't seen him that mad since I lost my virginity to the academy blacksmith."

Sylas laughs, the sound feeling odd in his chest. "He was a very handsome young man."

She hums in agreement and then looks up at him with big chocolate brown eyes, so much like his own. "You could visit my section of the castle now and again. Murder my stuffed animals like you used to when we were kids. I miss you. I still struggle with my rune casting and now I don't have the brightest student of the ages tutoring me."

His head whips towards her. "You're still in the academy? My word, will you ever graduate?"

"Shut up," she throws a pillow at him which he levitates away. "We all can't be valedictorian and head mage apprentices."

He sinks into his chair and hums in agreement, "And we can't all be crown princess."

She sighs, "Will you really not reconsider the whole murder plan. He's your father too after all."

Purple lightning sparks around the tips of Sylas' hair. He snarls, "Please, I've never been more than a bastard to him."

She sighs, turning her head up to stare at the bats, they titter happily at her and she waves at them. "Yes, well, I still think of you as my brother."

"Half brother," he tuts. Summoning an array of berries and nuts. She immediately lights up, digging into the strawberries.

"You could still be king," she hums between bites. "You'd be a very good king."

"Flattery will get you nowhere and I will be king as soon as the old sod hits the chopping block and I challenge your right, which you'll concede."

She nods in agreement, "Of course but that hasn't really been working out for you and my coronation's in six month. I'm worried. Father thinks it'll go alright but he's been in denial of my magical capabilities from the start. I won't be able to summon the crown jewels." She wrings her hands, "I'm not near powerful enough."

He glares at the floor, thinking of last nights horrid nightmare and his foiled plot. Emilia Vanis, was becoming a right pain in the arse. His cheeks heated and he coughed into his hand, "I'm experiencing a minor setback at the moment. It'll be resolved easily enough."

She eyes him skeptically, "Father won't give you Centres crown. But you could be king of a neighbouring country. Zewitch, perhaps. He won't hand over the thrown to me so long as you're a threat right next door. Waiting to go to war, he thinks I'm soft for you."

"You are."

"I am," she agrees, smiling at him fondly. "But you're soft for me too and if you're king of Zewitch, Father would have to treat you with respect. As an equal. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Maca, are you completely lost on the concept of politics. I can't just walk to the next piece of land and claim it as my own, this isn't the dark ages." He throws a few wild blueberries into his mouth, chewing on them miserably. "I actually have some standing to the crown of Centre, however washed out my blood my be."

"I'm not talking about a blood claim. I'm talking about a..." she purses her lips and whispers out the rest, "... marriage."

Silence falls upon the cave. Even the bats had silenced their chittering and grooming. Blob hiccupped awkwardly in the corner, grabbed his broom and hurried off to clean.

Sylas turned his head to stare into the fire. "You can't be serious."

"You know the princess of Zewitch has always held an... inclination for you," she argued.

"I'm a murderer."

"Attempted murderer."

"I've committed patricide."

"You've attempted to commit patricide. Which, I might add, the king of Zewitch finds very amusing. He killed his own father and brother, you know."

Sylas nodded his head in acknowledgement. The man was an inspiration, but the idea of marrying little Helena Alphalm sent tendrils down his spine. After all, the apples didn't fall very far from their trees in Zewitch.

"I-" but his arguments had run out and Macaenia was already smiling coyly.

"Just meet with her. She's matured quite a bit since the last time you saw her."

He sighed. A pool of dread filling his chest.

Macaenia eyed him curiously, "Unless there's another reason you'd rather not meet her?"

The image of blonde strands, and fierce blue eyes flashed before him. He rubbed absently at his collarbone. Her lips had been so warm. He shook his head. "No... I'll meet her."