The first light of day reveals more than just the dawn. One careless prank can shatter privacy, and suddenly the whole world knows more than they should.

A female voice whispered in my ear. My eyes fluttered to life, only to find sunlight streaming through the window above my bed. It reminded me of Alice pulling another one of her stunts, like the time she left Nibbles on my chest so I could get a good jump as soon as I roused from sleep.

But after glancing through the room, she isn’t there, and neither is Aeryn, her partner in crime.

This wasn’t the first time my younger sister had pulled some ridiculous prank on me. The most humiliating was when she almost gave me a heart attack by jumping in front of me the instant I stepped out of the shower. Aeryn had been there too. The towel had slipped, and the girlish screams that came out of my mouth were something else.

Picture this.

Me, covering my private parts with nothing but my bare hands, while Aeryn swooped in, scooping Alice up like a sack of potatoes and hauling her out of the room.

I swung my legs over the side of my bed, dusting myself off as the memories of the night before began trickling in.

They came in dribs and drabs, you know? Like Sheila, the barmaid from the Royal Rose, giving me that all-knowing wink because, apparently, we had a date. Then there was the vision of Brutus’ three daughters barging in. By now, cryptic shades were gabbing about some wandering fellow or whatnot. And then, oh yes, the small bar in some dark town alley.

A brief pause, and then a flicker of something sharper pierced through the fogginess of my thoughts.

The bar! The old bartender! The drink that had rendered me senseless! It all came rushing back.

My chest tightened as the memory took shape. The unique, sweet taste of that bluish liquor, the sly glance and puzzling advice the bartender had exchanged with me. Then, darkness.

Rage surged through me, hot and unrelenting, like a river flooding its banks. First, the old man at the Drunken Stag had floored me with a bottle. Now, this? A scheming old bartender, drugging my drink? No, thank you. Besides, nobody spikes my drink and lives to brag about it.

I bent down and pulled the sword from under the bed, a gift from my father when I turned twelve. I wondered if it was still finely honed. A quick unsheathing revealed the blade’s edge.

I smiled wickedly. Yep, still as sharp as the day I first got it.

With the sword clipped to my belt and everything I needed packed, I glanced at the room one last time, shut the door, and headed downstairs.

On the first floor, Alfred and Matilda stood by the dining table.

Matilda, my maid, wiped the tabletop in slow, deliberate circles, while Alfred spoke to her in quiet tones. The moment I reached the bottom of the marble stairs, their heads snapped up.

Alfred’s mouth dropped open, and Matilda’s hand flew to her mouth. They stared at me like I’d just risen from the dead.

“M—Master Alex,” Alfred stuttered, making it sound like he’d seen a ghost.

“What is it, Alfred?” I took a couple of steps closer.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, still gaping at me like I was some kind of apparition.

“Where do you think? My bedroom,” I shot him a look that suggested he’d asked the dumbest question on earth.

“At this hour?” His eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

Alfred gestured toward the grandfather clock in the corner of the dining room. It was eight-thirty in the morning. “You never get up this early,” he revealed, looking at me like I was some kind of miracle.

Ah. Mornings and I usually didn’t get along until late noon.

And then he noticed the sword at my side, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Master Alex, why do you have your sword?”

“I’m going to beat up an old man with it,” I said, as casually as if I were commenting on the wind outside.

Alfred’s face turned white as a sheet, and I could see Matilda’s eyes bulging out of her head. She looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

“Relax, Alfred. It’s not you,” I reassured him, watching as some color returned to their faces. “Now, get me something to eat. I’m starving,” I added, my stomach growling in agreement.

“Right away, Master Alex,” Alfred replied, his breath shaky, before he dashed toward the kitchen with Matilda rushing to follow.

Fed, fueled, and full of vengeance by nine. Now it was time to head out and find my target. Of course, the first guy had been quite a challenge from the information I’d gotten, but that old bartender who had knocked me out with his so-called Nectar of the Transcendence? I was looking to return some serious payback, whether it ended in blood, a broken nose, or at the very least, a nasty paper cut. He wasn’t going to know what hit him.

My hand reached for the doorknob, ready to push it open, when the door suddenly flew inward, slamming against the wall. Alistair stormed in, his face as red as a tomato.

“Alex, you numbskull!” he bellowed, his voice echoing in the quiet hall. “You didn’t wait for me yesterday!”

What the hell was he talking about?

Then it hit me, and I shrugged casually, brushing off his annoyance.

“Oh,” I said nonchalantly, offering a careless shrug, “Grinwald pulled me off to the training yard for sword practice. You were late.”

“Really?” he asked, his eyes narrowing skeptically as he squinted at me.

“Ask him if you don’t believe me,” I replied, giving a flippant wave of my hand. I noticed his gaze drift down to the sword at my waist, and I could see the question forming in his mind.

His expression shifted in an instant, his mouth going dry. He took a step back, his voice trembling when he finally spoke.

“A—Alex, why do you have a sword? You never carry one around before.”

I met his gaze, my face as deadpan as ever. “I’m going to cut someone’s head off with it.”

The effect was immediate. Alistair’s jaw dropped, his whole body freezing, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to run or laugh nervously.

“Relax. It’s not you,” I said, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. I took a step forward, my hand reaching out to ruffle his hair, giving his head a playful noogie. He squirmed under my grip, but I wasn’t letting go. I’d grown taller over the years, which made it all the more satisfying to mess with him like this.

“Besides, I don’t need a blade to beat you up,” I added with a grin.

Alistair was quick to recover, his face flushing red as he fumbled for words. “Y—Yeah, that’s good to hear.”

“Now move, Alistair,” I grunted, nudging him out of the way with a firm shove. “Before I change my mind and decide to make you a target practice.”

He mumbled an agreement, his voice meek as he hurried to step aside.

But just as I was about to leave, he called out to me again.

“Alex, wait!”

I whirled around, my gaze sharpening like a knife. “What is it now?”

His voice was smaller this time, like he was treading carefully, afraid of how I might react.

“Aiden asked why you weren’t at the farewell party last night,” he said, his words trailing off like he was expecting me to explode.

Oh, crap!

I had completely forgotten about that gathering. And defying my father? Yeah, no, that wasn’t something I wanted to think about. But it would be about three weeks before he returned. Perhaps by then, he would have forgotten.

My anger flared up again. Just you wait, you darn bartender. You’re going to regret messing with me.

“I’ll tell him myself when I get back from town,” I snapped, pivoting on my heel.

“O—Okay, Alex,” Alistair muttered, relieved to have escaped my frustration. He knew better than to push me when I was in a mood like this.

Not even the great Tempest Blade himself could stop me today. I remembered when I was eight and had asked him if I could join the traveling circus that came through Stormvale. When he’d refused, I locked myself in my room for three days. To make up for it, he had the circus perform on the estate to calm me down.

“Alex, wait! Aiden wants me to tell you something else.”

I ground my teeth together, my patience wearing thin. “I’ll deal with it later!” I barked over my shoulder as I stomped away, not sparing him another glance.

The wind whipped through the trees, their leaves murmuring a warning, as if urging me to reconsider. But now wasn’t the time to be a wuss. Even though I’d never been in a real fight or beaten anyone up before, this was a line I couldn’t uncross.

I picked up my pace, pushing myself onward as if I were a soldier marching to war. But along the path to the gate, a voice stopped me.

“Alex.”

“Damn it! What is it now?” I exclaimed loudly, convinced Alistair had caught up with me again to finish whatever he needed to say.

Turning sharply, I was met by Aiden’s gaze. His brows were slightly lifted, obviously taken aback by my outburst.

“Did Alistair talk to you?” Aiden asked, his voice steady but cautious.

“He did…” My voice trailed off as I tried to recall exactly what Alistair had been rambling on about earlier. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was too focused on the bartender and my need for retribution to pay much attention to anything else.

Aiden was staring at me now, his expression unreadable. I must’ve looked like I was a million miles away, because he shook his head and cut through the silence.

“Never mind. What time did you come back last night?”

I blinked. “Ah, the time,” I nodded lightly, though inside, I was scrambling to figure out what time I’d really gotten back.

Wait a minute! What time had I even returned last night?

My brain felt foggy, like it was wrapped in a haze of alcohol and confusion. I wracked my memory, trying to piece the events together, but it was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.

Alfred hadn’t a clue either when I asked him earlier. He just looked at me with that wide-eyed, confused look he always wore when I’d done something… well, stupid.

“I’m not sure,” I finally found my voice. “I’ll go ask the guards. They’ll definitely know when I dragged my sorry ass back to the estate.”

Aiden sighed. It wasn’t a loud, dramatic sigh, but one of those quiet, resigned ones. The kind he did every time I went off on one of my infamous drinking outings and couldn’t remember a thing afterward. It was almost an unspoken rule. He probably didn’t need to say anything.

I took his silence as my cue to exit. “Okay, I’ll see you later, dude,” I said, starting to turn away.

But just as I was about to take my leave, he called out to me. “Hold on, Alex.”

I stopped, rolling my eyes internally. Why couldn’t he and Alistair just get all their questions out in one go? I exhaled through my nose, trying to keep my cool.

“What is it this time?” I asked, genuinely curious but also dreading whatever responsibility was about to be dropped on me.

“There’s a lunch gathering for the whole family later,” Aiden said, and the way he said it made it sound like a command, like there was no way I could get out of it. “This time, I expect you to attend.”

Oh, so that’s probably what Alistair was trying to tell me earlier.

“Another gathering?” I repeated, my voice somewhat higher than usual. “What’s the occasion now?”

“Duke Lysander Goldenshield’s daughter, Lady Catherine, is coming to visit our estate.”

“You mean that—” I stopped myself just in time. I almost called my brother’s future wife a ‘bitch’. “—that fiancée of yours?”

“Yes,” Aiden nodded. “Last time she was here, you didn’t even give her a chance to talk to you. This time, I want you to come forward. I think she’s trying to connect with all of us, especially you.”

I squinted at him. Why the hell would I want to get close to a woman I know is a ‘bitch’ disguised as a duke’s daughter?

If you asked me, sure, she’d been polite and friendly when she was here, but it didn’t fool me for a second. It only took one look to know that kind of woman could bring any man to his knees, ruin his reputation, and leave him in tatters.

But hey, if Aiden’s taste in women is a “bitch from hell,” who am I to judge? Love overlooks imperfections, right?

“I’ll see what I can do,” I muttered, giving him a few quick nods.

“Thanks, Alex,” Aiden said, his voice softening a bit.

We exchanged a few glances before parting ways. It seemed the forecast for the day wasn’t predicting clear skies, but nothing but storm clouds and trouble on the horizon. I just hoped it wouldn’t get any worse, or even more so, turn into something I couldn’t handle.