Jarik and the girl lagged behind as the group of four traversed through the castle. “Is your brother always such a pain in the ass?”
“Yeah,” Sera bit her lip to keep from blushing while walking beside him. “He never lets me do anything fun. It’s always, Sera go wash the dishes, Sera stay out of my room, or Sera go do your homework. It’s like I have a third parent nagging me.”
“Being nagged is a sign of love,” Jarik stared off into space.
“Your parents don’t force you to do anything? Must be nice to be an elf.”
“I’m a half-elf and my parents are dead.”
It was not much further before the group reached the ballroom. Not a soul was in sight at the large arched doorway. To Firae’s eyes a dull blue aura encompassed the double doors. Shouted castle guard voices echoed through the hall in pursuit of shadows or guarding the royal safe room. Guards protecting the ballroom would be inside and rely on magical defenses to repel any attackers before swords shed blood.
Miirik pushed on the doors but was not surprised when they didn’t budge. He pounded on the oak doors. “We seek safety from the Ildonians.”
“No.” A muffled voice said through the door.
“No?” Miirik was taken aback.
“No!” the voice repeated. “These doors will not open for anyone but the king. Your tricks won’t leave this room defenseless. A true resident of Catheldor would know this laws.”
“My name is Miirik Conner. I’m with my sister and two members of the Elven delegation. Our lives are in danger. Now open this door and give us refuge before our blood is on your hands.”
“Even if I believed you these doors would stay sealed until after the crisis. Go away before I have to tell you again.”