Rustam stopped when he heard the name “Prince Drefan Scale-Singer.”

A part of him had been hoping his uncle wouldn’t come. He didn’t know why, but something about the man made him feel uneasy.

“Who is that?” Galenova asked.

“My uncle. Father’s younger brother.” Rustam stiffened when his uncle appeared.

A Dwarf who looked similar to King Padraig walked in with a large entourage of Dwarves. All of them were dressed up nicely, but Rustam felt most of them had too many accessories on. Especially his uncle, who was wearing a dark crimson jerkin embroidered with gold designs and a long black jacket with a pair of black pants with black leather boots. Gold beads decorated his long beard and the two braids under his chin. All of his fingers had large gold rings with different colored gems and the rubies on his circlet shone brightly.

He strolled over to Padraig with open arms and a beaming smile. “Brother! It’s good to see you!”

Padraig smiled uncomfortably and hugged him. “Drefan, good to see you too.”

Drefan nodded and walked over to his sister-in-law, who held her hand out. A subtle sign that she didn't want him too close. “Queen Xylaurel.” He bowed and kissed her hand.

“Drefan,” Xylaurel greeted with some disdain. “What brings you here?”

“It’s the birthday of our wonderful princes!” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Speaking of, where are my favorite nephews?” He looked over to the dance floor and smiled when he saw Rexus and Rhodaph. “There they are!”

“Uncle Drefan!” both boys greeted excitedly as they ran up to hug him.

After hugging them, he looked around. “And where’s the other one?”

Melita put her hand on Xylaurel’s arm when she saw her sister stiffen. The queen relaxed her stance but narrowed her eyes. “That “other one’s” name is Rustam.”

“Yeah, that one!” Drefan looked around and saw a head of red hair standing between a Nymph and the Pixie boy he knew Melita and Luvern adopted. “There you are, Rustam! Come here and give your uncle a hug!”

Rustam reluctantly walked over to him and gave his uncle a quick hug before backing away. “H-Hello, Uncle Drefan.”

The older Dwarf prince smiled as he looked the boy up and down. “Look at you! Still small as ever! Hardly any meat on your bones. And you’re looking pretty rough. Were you beaten in a sparring match? Should you even be up? You should train more instead of hanging around that old man’s granddaughter and the Pixie boy. Gotta train hard if you want to be as strong as your brothers!”

Daelyniel stiffened while Ignacia stuck her tongue out at him. The little Dwarf boy looked down and shifted uncomfortably. “I-I like being with my friends…”

Drefan was about to say something, but Padraig cut him off. “Let’s continue the celebration! No need to be so stiff, everyone!” He nodded to the bard and his group, who started playing. Everybody in the room relaxed and the party resumed. He walked over to his brother as Rustam hurried back to his friends. “Drefan, come with me.” He didn’t even give him time to respond and grabbed his arm to drag him to the hallway.

The younger man looked a little miffed when the king let him go. “You didn’t have to be so dramatic, Pady. I haven’t said anything offensive. If anyone should be offended, it should be me. You didn’t send me an invitation to the party.”

“Oh really?” Xylaurel walked toward them. “You called Rexus and Rhodaph your favorites and called Rustam the “other one” again! And you might as well have insulted Daelyniel and Ignacia!”

“Xyla is right,” Padraig agreed. “And we didn’t invite you because we know how you feel about outside races attending these events. Prince Lennoxir of the Eastern Leaflet is here with his daughter, and I will not have you making your usual passive-aggressive remarks around them.”

Drefan grunted in disgust. “Fine, I won’t speak to any outsiders. But I didn’t come here just to visit. I came to offer you to take Rustam with me and make him my ward.”

Both parents stiffened and looked outraged. “We’re not sending our son away,” refused Padraig.

It took all of Xylaurel’s discipline not to punch her brother-in-law in the face. Both she and Padraig knew Rustam avoided the man. Even when he was a baby, Rustam didn’t like being near Drefan. Normally, he would be fussy or whine whenever he was hungry or needed a change after soiling himself, but he’d been an overall calm infant. However, the first time Drefan met him, Rustam screamed and cried in a way they’d never heard him cry. 

Drefan held his hands up in surrender. “Now is not the time for this discussion, but do think about it. The boy has no purpose here, and I can teach him everything he needs to know about his position in life. Plus, he needs to spend more time with his own kind instead of that “cousin” of his or the half-human mongrel that is Sir Oren’s granddaughter. And I saw a Nymph girl near him. The boy already has so much going against him. Being around people like them will make even more look down on him.”

“I know you didn’t just call our granddaughter a mongrel.”

Drefan jumped when a hand squeezed his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. He looked back and saw Brunhilda, one of the best blacksmiths in the world and a well-known warrior, standing behind him. Her graying dark blonde hair was tied back in a loose braid, and instead of wearing a formal garb, she was wearing her usual blacksmith apron, a sleeveless shirt that showed off her muscular arms, dark trousers, and boots. She'd obviously just left the forge as her clothes and bronze-tanned skin were covered in sweat and soot.

And she was standing with her husband, Sir Oren, a Dwarf who was well-known for being a powerful and eccentric mage. Drefan often wondered why his brother chose the man as his court wizard since he was such a strange fellow. 

The prince smiled nervously. “L-Lady Brunhilda and Sir Oren, forgive me. I was just saying that-”

“Do not speak,” Brunhilda interrupted. She pushed him against the wall and glared at him as he struggled to get out of her grasp. “Let me make this very clear: if we ever hear you call our granddaughter a mongrel again, that will be the last time you ever speak. Do you understand me, boy?” She saw him nod and let him go, watching him rush back to his entourage. She quickly bowed to the royal couple. “Forgive me, Your Majesties. I understand if I’m to be punished for making a threat against a royal family member, but I…”

Padraig shook his head and had her stand up straight. “No, Lady Brunhilda. My brother was out of line. Had you not reprimanded him, I would’ve done so. He has no right to insult your granddaughter or anyone else.”

“Speaking of Ignacia…I can’t help but notice she and the others are missing,” Xylaurel mused as she looked into the party hall.

Oren smiled and nodded. “Worry not, Your Majesty. They are safe. But they wanted to get away from the party.”

The queen couldn’t help but chuckle. “I can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t mind leaving.”

“W-What is this?” Galenova asked as she looked around. 

They’d snuck out of the party with the help of Ignacia’s grandparents. She’d found it odd that the younger girl told her to get dressed in her night clothes, but she did so and Lady Brunhilda escorted them to their next destination. Now, they were standing on the flat roof of the court wizard’s tower. Galenova was even more surprised to see four lime plushes large enough to sleep on with pillows and blankets on them. There was a small table filled with snack foods, pitchers of water, and cups. 

“Grandpa and Grandma set it up for us!” Ignacia exclaimed. “And this is why Grandma took us to our rooms to change into our night dresses. We're gonna sleep on the roof tonight!”

“Oh, I see.” Galenova smiled when she looked up and saw the many stars in the sky. “Wow, this is amazing! Do you do this all the time?”

Rustam shook his head. “No, only whenever there’s a big party. No one really pays attention to us. But Igy’s grandparents caught us one time sneaking out and they’ve been helping us escape since.”

“Grandma and Grandpa join us sometimes,” Ignacia revealed with a beaming smile. “They don’t like formal events either.”

Galenova frowned as she made herself comfortable on her bed. “Where are your parents, Igy?”

The younger girl shrugged while putting some food on a plate. “No clue. Last letter they sent said they were heading to the homeland of the Fire Elves. They’re delivering weapons that my grandmother made. Sometimes they’re gone for months.”

“I see. And how did you end up on Oretierra, Daelyniel?” Galenova asked curiously.

Daelyniel looked up at the sky for a few seconds before answering. “My parents were in the group that were prisoners of the trolls. My birth mother asked Mother to take care of me. I was adopted the same day Rustam and his brothers were born. Mother and Father had a memorial built for them at our home to remember them.”

Galenova remembered hearing about that event when she was older. She'd been two years old at the time it happened. Her father was giving her a history lesson and told her how the relationship between the Dwarves and all Fey kind got stronger after this. When the Blossoming Isles had been unable to send many ships to pick up the captives, King Padraig and his men made it their mission to return them home. He used his own ships to help and since then, he and the Dwarves were considered valued and well-liked allies for all Fey. She looked over at Rustam, who was looking at his wrapped hand and broken arm. “Are you okay? Are your injuries causing you great discomfort?”

Rustam shook his head. “My uncle said I look rough. Do I look bad?”

“You were on a dragon and got injured from its spikes and from the fall!” Ignacia exclaimed. “Your uncle doesn’t know that.”

“But he thought I lost in a sparring match again…do I usually look bad after one?” Rustam wondered.

Daelyniel threw a grape at him and laughed when his cousin glared at him. “Everyone looks rough after sparring. Your uncle is just a dummy.”

“Is he always like that?” Galenova remembered how Rustam looked uncomfortable when his uncle and his group entered the room. While everyone was dressed formally, she couldn’t help but think that his uncle over-accessorized. She felt like he was trying too hard to show that he was royalty. Even Rustam’s parents weren’t wearing half as much jewelry as he was.

Rustam nodded. “Yes. My brothers are his favorites because they’re “true Dwarves,” and he makes fun of me for never defeating them in a spar. And he doesn’t like that I’m learning magic because “true warriors fight with their blades” and not with magic tricks.”

“Do you want me to squeeze a lemon in his eye?” Ignacia asked innocently. 

The other three laughed at her question. “No, don’t do that. Not yet,” Rustam replied.

“I think you look handsome,” Galenova blurted. Her eyes went wide when she realized what she said, and covered her face with a pillow. Ignacia and Daelyniel laughed when they saw Rustam’s eyes go wide too, and looked away nervously.

“She liiiiiiiiikes you,” Ignacia teased.

“I-I’m sorry!” Galenova looked over the pillow and felt her cheek go warm when the Dwarven Prince smiled at her.

Rustam scratched the back of his head and laughed. “You don’t have to be sorry, but thank you.” He pointed up at the sky. “Shooting star! Make a wish!” He brought his hands together.  I wish to get stronger. I wanna protect everyone.

Galenova brought her hands together and closed her eyes. I wish to keep these friends and hope to make more.

Daelyniel continued looking up and brought his hands together. I wish to be the best duke when I grow up and make all of my parents proud.

I wish to be the best court wizard ever on Oretierra…and for Grandpa to make a lime cake for dessert tomorrow. Ignacia thought as she kicked her little feet while eating a strawberry tart. She picked up the large book next to her bed and grinned at her friends. “Who wants to hear some scary stories?”