"Hello, brother."

The siblings couldn't hold back anymore and enveloped each other with a brotherly hug, laughing and patting each other's back. Queen Winter, who was quiet while watching Oliver enter now smiled and stood, greeting her brother-in-law to their castle. Even the atmosphere in the room grew lighter, as the knights and castle staff were pleased to see their king and queen happy.

After they finally calmed down, Vincent turned to a servant standing attentive nearby. 

"You, servant," he commanded, "Go to the Head Chef and tell her to prepare a small feast. My brother has come to visit again!" The servant bowed respectively and left swiftly. Vincent turned to Oliver, eyes gleaming with a rare glee. He looked similar to Oliver in several ways. They both have olive-tanned skin and light chestnut brown hair that always seemed to wave just at the tips. Their dragon features were the same too, with the only difference being Vincent's horns curved more like a ram's rather than an upward-arched spike. 

"Come, brother, let me show you the War Room. I recruited some folk of magical blood to make some adjustments to it."

"I'll have the dining area ready for when you boys finish fawning over your trinkets," Queen Winter said, giving her husband a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the brothers to themselves.

As the two walked through the main room to the corridor, Oliver couldn't help but admire his old home. On the walls hung tapestries of old kings and queens bigger than a commoner's house. Treaties and wars, betrayal and love, magic and science, all woven together in tight lines of silk and wool. The very walls were they hung were white marble, imported centuries ago by Italian and Spanish kingdoms. In fact, all of the exterior walls of the castle were all a brilliant pearly-white to symbolize their kind. To add contrast to the palace, most floors and stairs were built using black marble.

"So, what troubles did you have in your journey," Vincent asked while opening a door, revealing a spiral staircase. "It's not every day you see a prince with fine clothes to have traces of dirt on him."

"Bandits on the Whistling Trail," Oliver stated simply.

"How many?"

"Two white dragons and a female witch."

"Piece of cake?"

"Please, brother. It'll take more than some scavengers to get a scratch on me."

Vincent laughed and patted Oliver on the back. "Knowing you, Ollie, you could take down an army with only a spoon for a weapon."

"Who says I need a spoon to do that?" Oliver joked. The men chuckled together and made it to the door that enters into the War Room.

Vincent opened the door and led him inside, immediately dragging him to the center of the room. Instead of the normal stone stable in the center, there was a large sphere cut in half. It was hollow and filled to the near-brim with faint, glowing water.

"A scrying pool......."

"I took the best magic-fulled dragons of the kingdom and gathered them all here to make this. Anyone with a drop of our royal blood, and those we swear to it are loyal, can access it. Any other citizen or traitor would only see water, and the best use out of it would be a drink. This will give us a huge advantage over King Pale Shadow and his armies, giving us insight on where they march and when they do so."

"So, if I swear to it that, say, Diana is loyal, then she could access it?" Oliver questioned.

Vincent nodded in response, "All she would have to do it touch the water as you swear it and it'll know who she is from then on out. I've already done it with Winter and a select few council members."

"What about your son, Alexander?"

"He's already allowed to access it because of the blood we share."

"Ah, forgive me. I forgot you mentioned that part."

"It's okay, brother. There's no need to apologize."

There was a brief silence as Oliver continued to look around the room. It was dimly lit as there were no windows to let in natural light. Instead, there were candles in little grooves in the wall, flickering silently and casting deep shadows. The scrying pool also seemed to glow slightly, and you could see its light reflect off the ceiling. 

There was a small wooden table against the wall with scrolls and maps laid all over it, with a single bookshelf next to it. Most of the books were dulled from time, but some weren't as flakey and yellow. In this small room laid the most important documents of the region and its neighbors, all ranging from geography to specific castle blueprints to war etiquette.

"Alright," Vincent said after a while, "let's get the boring stuff out of the way so we can feast with my wife and son, eh?"

Oliver shook his head amusedly. "Of course you find battle plans boring. I often wonder if the kingdom would still be here if I didn't enjoy the boring things like you."

The brothers shared another bottle of laughs and then sat down to do what every royal tries their best with: protect their kingdom.

- (Time Skip) -

Oliver sat at a large rectangular table with the king, his family, and about twenty other noblemen and ladies sitting in even larger tables perpendicular to their own. The servants walked around, filling goblets and bringing food. The warlord chatted with the young prince, quizzing him now and then on a random subject. 

Alexander, the son of Vincent and Winter was 14 summers old and ridiculously smart. His skin was a little lighter than the brothers, but he still had his father's piercing blue eyes. However, he did receive his mother's head of hair, which was thick, curly black. Personally, Oliver thought, the raven hair complemented the prince's eyes better.

"Oh, Oliver," Queen Winter asked after he finished talking with Alex, "How's Diana doing? She hasn't shown up in almost a year.....I miss our talks together."

The prince sighed and put his utensils down, the feeling of travel hunger starting to leave him.

"I've tried everything, Winter...from affection to potions to books. I've tried a hundred different ways to help her heal, but I've done no better than a child trying to explain colors to a blind man."

"I know grief affects everyone in different ways, brother, but do think there may be a possibility that there's something more at play? Diana was such a strong woman, it's strange how she's only been getting worse."

Oliver's wings stiffened on his back and he clasped his hands tightly. He hates it when people whisper about his wife, giving them pitying looks after they pass by. Everyone always talked about how wonderful Diana used to be before the incident, and how dull and hollow she became after. Oliver often snapped if he even overheard them talking about it. 

Yet, deep down, Oliver knew they were all right. That there was something wrong with the woman he loved, hurting just as strongly now as she did six years ago.

Vincent, who was seated next to him, leaned closer and grabbed his hand. He made Oliver look at him so he couldn't push the conversation away.

"I know she hurts. I know you hurt, Ollie. But I just refuse to believe that all of this is because of the loss of Daisy. I think there's something more at hand. I don't know what it is, but I need you to try and be more alert about this. You're my brother, and I want you happy again."

Oliver broke eye contact and looked down, silently commanding himself not to cry. He couldn't weep, not here, not with so many powerful people here to witness it. Vincent pulled away and patiently waited for Oliver to regain himself. The queen and prince had gone silent, watching the ordeal go down. The rest of the guests there either didn't notice or didn't care, still chatting away to each other.

"Even if there really is something..." Oliver started after a while, speaking carefully so his voice sounded even, "my love for her would keep me from seeing it."

"I know," Vincent said softly, "and I know your servants and townspeople of Bvloskïne would be too scared to mention it to you. That's why I'm sending Alexander to stay with you for two fortnights."

"What?!" Oliver and Alex spoke at the same time, then looking at each other in confused shock. Even the queen look surprised.

"Prince Alexander is a smart boy, and very observant. He also has the same rank as you and isn't afraid to speak his mind. This could give him a chance to know his aunt better and see if there really is more at play than we thought. You could also teach him some warlord skills that I don't have well."

Oliver glared at his brother. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his nephew,  he loved the boy. It was just that the king had clearly thought this out and made sure to play it in a way where he couldn't refuse. Suddenly, catching him off guard and in a room full of witnesses. Sneaky, indeed. 

"I wouldn't mind, Uncle. Besides, I'll be nice to get out of the castle for a bit and explore a different area of the kingdom."

The warlord was quiet for a little while, processing. He eventually caved and agreed, earning him a (slightly painful) pat of the back from his brother, who was beaming that his little plan actually worked.

Winter decided to turn the conversation to give Oliver a bit of breathing room.

"Alright, enough with all of this small talk. If we keep it up, we'll never finish our food, and you boys will be hungry the whole way back."

They agreed and returned to eating their meal. Oliver managed to get a few more scraps down, but he really didn't feel like eating anymore. His thoughts were muddled with how the next month was going to be. Deep down, he hoped that maybe he could have his old Diana back by the end of all of this.

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WOW. I have not updated this book in forever. I am so sorry about that. I'll try to update more often, but it's probably going to be irregular. Also, the castle above is supposed to represent Vincent's because it was very similar to how I imagined his palace. I don't really have much else to say, so I hope you all have a lovely day/night. Love ya!!!