The Blood's Flame (The Dragons of Flareia Book 1)

Chapter 21 - Olivier

           

The Palace of Sand

26th Year of the Ocean

3rd Moon

Considering they only had a week to plan the Annual Ocean Festival, the palace workers had truly outdone themselves – just as Lymphario had said they would. Olivier could hardly believe her eyes as she made her way down the front steps of the Palace of Sand. Ivenstra was always beautiful, but now it looked as if it had been plucked from a dream – lanterns were strung across the streets from the tops of buildings; incredible sand sculptures lined the sidewalks, seeming to grow from the very ground itself; sea glass was scattered on the sandy sidewalks, creating waves on the ground. The people of Ivenstra wore varying shades of blue, painting the crowd as the city's personal ocean.

She remembered the year before, the way Tommél had ran down the steps, his braid swinging at his spine. He had doubled over when he reached the carriage for the procession – but he had been laughing, trying to catch his breath.

"I knew I could beat you!" He had called out to her.

She had scoffed. "You hardly beat me. I was out of my room far before you were, you just ran like a lunatic to get here."

"I can neither confirm nor deny," he had said, laughing once more, "but I never said I'd get ready faster, just that I could get down here faster."

She had rolled her eyes, stepping into the carriage as he moved aside to let her go first. "Do try to behave, today." She had reminded him.

"I'm always perfectly behaved, sister, we just have differing opinions on the word's definition."

At the base of the palace steps, Olivier sighed, playing with Tommél's shell in her hair. He had been right – and still was. Part of her just wished she knew where he was, and – despite everything – that he was safe.

"Olivier,"

She turned at Kylan's voice, seeing him hurry down the steps. She found herself smiling despite her memory of her brother.

"Is everything alright?" Kylan asked, his silver eyes concerned as they searched her face.

She nodded. "I'm fine." She insisted. "I was just... just thinking about Tommél."

Kylan's brow furrowed. "Your... your younger brother?"

Olivier nodded again, realising that she had never talked to Kylan about Tommél – at least not by name. It was a subject she reserved for Flae, fiery Flae who would constantly remind her that he had done wrong, that she had no fault. Yet, part of her still wished she just knew where he was, and that – despite everything – he was safe. "I just... I guess I always assumed he would change his mind. That he would come back." She shook her head, her eyes trained to the ground as her fingers found Tommél's shell in her braid once more. "He's never missed the Festival before. Even... even if he was travelling, he would always return."

She glanced up in time to see something flicker behind Kylan's eyes, something she thought might be anger, although he had never known Tommél. Perhaps it was a similar anger to Flae's – an anger for how Tommél had treated Olivier, how he had abandoned his country.

"If he wanted to be here," Kylan said slowly, "I'm sure he would've come. But don't let his absence put a damper on your whole day. He doesn't deserve it, not after the things he said about you."

Olivier's brow furrowed as she recalled again how little she and Kylan had spoken of Tommél. "You know, then? The things he accused me of?"

Kylan nodded hurriedly. "I-I, yes, Flae mentioned it to me."