Elias Rainer.

First-born son of the Marquess. Discarded Rainer heir.

A lost man.

And her eldest brother.

Jovine’s eyes traveled across the harsh scar marring the left side of his face, and the sting of tears threatened to spill. He had grown out his hair to hide the old wound, and it only reminded her of the time she let slip away. She believed she was prepared, but as she watched the familiar tilt of his mischief glimmering under the wavering candle flame, her heart broke.

He quirked a brow at her silence, but she didn’t know where to start. Too many words balanced on the tip of her tongue and yet nothing seemed good enough.

How have you been? Are you eating properly? Don’t you hate me?

“When did you arrive?” It was pathetic, but it was the only sentence she could manage to say.

He leaned against the column. “Three days ago.”

Of course he had.

“You’ve been a fool, Vinnie,” he continued, his eyes hollow. “An utter fool.”

“Yes.”

At her candid response, he tilted his head, surveying her from afar. She had no arguments against his observation.

Jovine glanced at the dagger by her head. “Was the knife really necessary?”

“You know my penchant for flair. Don’t blame my resentful excitement that you only called me now.”

“Lias —”

“You should have called me that night.”

Jovine swallowed the lump in her throat, instantly speechless.

Elias pushed himself off the column and paced, looking around the small chapel. “I was even there. Did you know?”

She didn’t.

“I watched from the shadows. My baby sister crowned as the Empress.” He expansively gestured with his arms in a pose of victory. “What a night it could have been!”

Jovine dug her nails into the palm of her hands, focusing on the pain instead of the urge to cry or scream.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“But then your snake of a husband tainted it with his…distasteful carnality.” The glint of another knife flashed into the palm of his hands as he expertly twirled it around his fingers. “I should have slit his throat right then for you.”

Elias turned a manic look towards her frozen form at the door. “Well, better late than never, isn’t that right Vinnie? So who should I kill first? The snake? Or his whore?”

“No,” she blurted out, breathless and panicked by the wild look in his crazed eyes.

His movements stopped too suddenly. Half-shrouded in the dark, fear sliced through her constricted chest.

“You’re right,” she said in a small voice. “I should have called for you sooner. But not for those reasons. I should have called you because you’re my brother. Because I missed you.”

“You foolish girl,” he muttered under his breath, looking away from her.

“I can’t seem to stop making the same mistakes,” she continued, her voice growing in strength. Keeping her eyes on the back of his head, she pulled the knife from the wall and caught the fluttering piece of paper. “Once again, I’ve called you for the wrong reasons.”

Hoping her body remembered better than her hesitant recollection of memories, she hurled the dagger through the air and watched it arc across the space. Just as it neared his skull and alarm raced through her veins when she thought he would miss it, Elias turned and caught the handle with a purely deranged smile.

She had his attention now. He was no longer drowning in the dark thoughts she knew would have pulled him under.

“Your aim is strong,” he chuckled, looking at her with renewed glee.

Despite her trembles, her lips twitched. “If I recall, I had a brother who insisted on teaching me how to wield a blade instead of throwing pebbles with me by the lake.”

“We can’t all be as dreadfully dull as Easton, now can we?”

Jovine huffed out a reluctant laugh. Her second brother, Easton, was a kind man who would throw pebbles with her when they were young. But she couldn’t deny that the thrill was always absent when Elias wasn’t there.

He was the only one who could truly understand her. The only one who would stand with her in the dark.

They were both disappointments. He was the one with a mind too broken to inherit his right as the future Marquess. She was the second-born child who failed to be the son her mother wanted as a replacement. Together, they were both unwanted.

As the humor wafted away, she stared into his eyes. “I called you for help,” she admitted. “Will you help me, Lias?”

Elias sucked in his cheeks. Disapproval raged behind his eyes, but so did a distant look of pity. He disappeared behind the columns and appeared again with a bundle in his hands. Flinging it across to her, she caught it with a frown. Old, ragged clothes, a size too big for her, settled in her arms.

“Get dressed,” he said, moving around the building as he searched the walls.

“W-why?” she asked in bewilderment.

Elias turned to her with an impassive face. “Your letter held a list of concerns that ran on for miles. Might as well start with one of them, no?”

Jovine looked around, still stunned. “Now?”

“Yes,” he stated blankly, going back to his strange wall inspections.

When she didn’t move, he turned to her with narrowed eyes. “Get dressed. Close that wretched door behind you. And let’s get going.”

Her eyes wide and perplexed, Jovine went to shut the heavy wooden door. As soon as it slammed shut, she heard a winded creak coming from the other side. She whipped around to find her brother heaving open a hidden door behind a dense, decorated tapestry.

“W-what…How —”

“A story for another day,” he mumbled breathlessly.

“Where are we going, Elias?”

“We’re going out,” he said blandly, dusting his hands off.

“To where?”

Elias looked back with a wicked smirk.

“To be rebels.”