Yarima sighed long and loud, wanting to share her absolute boredom with whoever else was stuck in this dank jail. She hadn't expected her mother to throw her in a cell, but she couldn't say she was that surprised by it either.

Queen Svytlani wasn't exactly known for not being paranoid, but in this case, it made sense. She was probably worried Yarima might change her mind and run again, which the queen certainly didn't want. The jail and the hand clamps were a bit much, though.

Yarima wasn't even sure if coming back here was a good idea. Clearly, her plan of taking the lightweaver's power and using it to kill her mother and take over Orinovo wasn't doable—not with that shadowforger around. But trying to worm her way back into her mother's good graces and being more subtle about this might not have been the best idea, either, not when she was now stuck in prison.

If only she'd managed to get those powers before Tyr-Naralyn found the shadowforger. That would have made things so much easier. Yarima could have strolled to the palace, burned her mother and the whole cursed court to the ground and finally end the rule of terror. But no, that would have been too easy.

She'd worked so long and hard to become strong enough, to find the Daybreaker and get close enough to take his powers. And now with a shadowforger present, that plan as it was had fallen through. How was she meant to fight someone who could make her stop moving with a twitch of his fingers?

Kerva, it would be nice to have that power right now. It would certainly make things much easier for her. But she was still undeterred in her goals. Her plan simply had to be altered a little. She would gather as many powers as she could from the priory held here. She knew there were some who were being experimented on, and she would have to hope that all priory powers combined would be enough to face off against Fennrin and Tyr-Naralyn together.

And perhaps find some kind of shadowforger weakness in the royal library. It was there where she had found out her sound powers can cancel out a lightweaver's. And judging by the priceless look on Tyr-Naralyn's face back then, it had been news to him, too.

Yarima smirked to herself, remembering how she'd defeated the Daybreaker twice. She kind of wished Lys-Akkaria was more interested in conquest rather than just defending its borders now that they had such power on their side. They could march over here, end the monarchy, and do her job for her. But she highly doubted they would do anything, so it was up to her. As usual.

Though that was probably for the best. Who knows what Lys-Akkaria would do if it decided to conquer Orinovo. Things like that never tended to end well.

Suddenly hearing footsteps coming toward her, she didn't bother getting up or even looking, knowing it was probably one of her mother's sycophants. But the second the person spoke, she found herself scrambling to her feet.

"Yari. You really are back."

As she stood up, she gaped at the figure of her brother who she hadn't seen in a decade. She still remembered him as a boy, but now he had grown up, a head taller than her. And yet somehow neither that, nor his fancy clothes befitting a prince lent him much of a presence.

In fact, he still had that unsure, anxious energy he had always had back then. He just looked a little sadder now, too, his big, blue eyes wide with worry, his stark white hair covering them up somewhat.

"Deni!" she breathed, wanting to grab onto the bars only to remember her fingers were clamped and immobile. "You grew up!"

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Denir laughed a little, though the deep sadness in his eyes remained. "You did as well." Then he grimaced. "I'm really glad to see you, systrinka, but I wish it was under better circumstances. Why did you even come back here? Mother is furious, you know."

He sighed again, looking away. And Yarima narrowed her eyes. She couldn't help but wonder what their mother had done to him during all these years. She'd assumed that she'd leave him alone when she'd run away because it was always her who was in the center of the queen's attention, the one who was supposed to take over after she died. But with Yarima running away, their mother's focus must have shifted to Denir.

And Yarima now felt horribly guilty for not having given that more thought. She didn't regret running away, exactly, but back then she'd not even thought of what it could mean for her brother. She'd only realized that afterward, and on purpose hadn't given it much thought, knowing it would haunt her.

Well, she supposed now was the right time for it to haunt her, then.

"She's always angry. What else is new?"

Denir shook his head, smiling at her before the smile gave way to puppy eyes. Good to know Denir could still do that, too. "I really missed you. I thought maybe you were dead. There was no news about you at all until a few months ago."

Yarima nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, I learned to lay low. Sorry for leaving you like that, brashko."

Denir immediately shook his head. "No, I'm okay. I've been okay. It...wasn't all bad." A small, soft smile appeared on his face as his gaze drifted off to the side a little, making Yarima tilt her head.

"Oh? Has my little brother found himself someone?" she teased, grinning, which made Denir blush and duck his head.

"Uh." He scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe. Don't tell mother, though."

Yarima rolled her eyes. Their stupid mother. As if she had any nations to join by marrying either of them off. From what she'd seen, even though they could visit other places, unlike the landlocked Lys-Akkaria, no one wanted to have anything to do with Orinovo due to their queen. They never said it like that, but that was the problem.

"I wouldn't. I won't tell her anything, ideally."

Denir grimaced, chewing on his lip. "She won't like hearing that. She doesn't want to trust you, but at the same time I think she wants you take over as the next in line again."

Denir didn't need to point out that Yarima would be replacing him. But honestly, that had to be a good thing. Her poor brother wasn't built for politics. Maybe he'd changed enough to handle it over the years she hadn't been around, but she doubted it. He seemed just as soft and painfully sincere as ever.

"Oh, I'm planning on becoming that."

Denir's eyes widened as he blinked. "What...does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it, brashko." Yarima leaned in closer, smiling up at him. She needed to change the subject because she knew he wasn't going to let this go if she didn't distract him. "So who is this mystery beloved of yours? Do I know them?"

Denir's eyes widened further, probably at the neutral pronoun. Stupid Orinovo and their backward views of relationships. That was one thing Yarima would miss about Lys-Akkaria—their nearly absolute freedom when it came to love.

That one pretty soldier serving with the Daybreaker came to Yarima's mind then, and she was surprised herself at the fact that the thought of never being given the opportunity to ask if she'd like a drink made her feel a little sad. Usually people didn't stick with her like this much, not even ones with such deep brown eyes.

"Erm. You do know...him," Denir replied, whispering the last word, looking over his shoulder as if to make sure no one had heard him, despite the fact that Yarima barely had. "Maybe. He's, erm, a soldier."

Yarima grimaced a little. "I hope he's not on the front lines right now."

Denir's miserable express quickly stomped that hope out. "I'm very worried about him."

"He's going to be just fine. Or I'll beat him up for making my little brother upset." Yarima laughed, but she was half serious. She'd been repressing her protectiveness over Denir this whole time, but she couldn't when he was right here with her.

Denir laughed a little, too, but very quickly his face turned serious. "I should go. I just wanted to come see you. I couldn't believe you're back." He smiled sadly at her. "I will do my best to convince mother to let you out of here soon, I promise."

Yarima nodded at him. "Thank you, brashko."

She watched him leave, frowning to herself in thought. She certainly hoped her mother would let down her guard a little soon. There wasn't much she could do in this cell. But it did give her one thing at least—the time and silence to think and plan her next move.

She sat down again, humming to herself. However long she would be stuck here for, she would make every hour count.