Stefan stormed into his chambers, slamming the door behind him.
He knew he was being irrational, that it was foolishness to become angry, but Peter had been too much this time.
What a little fool! Stefan paced the red carpet that lead from his bed to the door, seething.
When they were young, he had esteemed Peter above all else. Peter, who was strong and brave and sensible. Peter, who could shoot straighter, swim faster, and run longer. Peter, who always did the right thing. Sometimes Stefan had been jealous, but always admiring. Until recently, he couldn't think of a better person to succeed their father.
Watching Peter falling apart in this way—embarrassing himself, embarrassing the family—was too much. For a month and a half since his canceled engagement and Adva's suicide, Peter had remained locked in his room, dead to everyone.
Lost in a daydream, Stefan thought bitterly. Just like he's been for the last year. Since that snip made her way in here.
They had been together, like always, readying to cast out to sea...
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“C'mon, now, keep up, Stefan!” Peter laughed, tipping his cap over his eyes. Over one broad shoulder he had slung a handful of nets. His dark eyes sparkled underneath the wrinkled black cap, stolen from the cook.
Stefan tried to run faster, but only succeeded in tripping over a jutting stone and landing on his knees in the sand. He sputtered, wiping himself off, while Peter continued, disappearing behind an enormous dark, pock-filled rock. Stefan groaned as he watched his brother go. He had forgotten that there was one more set of tide pools to cross through before they reached the place they had hidden the dinghy.
“Crab-infested, stupid beach,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his foot. He sighed and took off at a jog.
The sound of Peter's footsteps had stopped. He was standing at the edge of the collection of tide pools, where rock gradually met sand. Stefan picked his way gingerly across the pools, avoiding the small crabs that clicked at him threateningly from their small hiding places. Coming to a halt behind Peter, he shoved him lightly on the shoulder.
“Well come on, I've caught up, now look who's slowing us down!” he chuckled. “What are you looking at?”
Peter put a hand over his eyes to block out the sun. “Stefan, does that look like a person to you?”
Stefan looked out along the beach. There, in the tide, was a slender figure lying in the sand. The surf slowly retreated from it, and Stefan's eyes widened as he realized what it was.
“Peter, it's a girl!”
They glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and made their way down to the surf.
She was lying on her side, one small, languid arm stretched out beneath her head, tiny fingers sunk in the sand. Long, wavy hair dark with damp fanned out around her. Her skin was paler than anyone Stefan had ever seen, as though she had never seen the sunlight. She looked young, with a childlike rosebud mouth
Peter covered his eyes next to him, turning his head. Stefan glanced at him with surprise before he realized that the girl was naked. He blushed deeply and turned around. His brother was setting down the nets and pulling off his coat, his eyes clouded with thought. Peter turned, eyes still closed, and gently picked her up, wrapping the coat around her.
She was limp, but queerly light and delicate, as though she had birds' bones. Peter opened his eyes, nudging her chin up to his shoulder. He glanced at Stefan.
“Do you think she's dead?” his younger brother asked.
Peter put his free hand on her wrist, feeling for a moment. “She's very cold.” He paused. “But I can feel her breathing, now that I'm carrying her.”
Stefan was staring at her in fascination. “Where on earth could she have come from? Do you think she made her way here from a shipwreck, like you?”
His older brother laughed. “Maybe! I hope that I didn't look like this when you found me.” He brushed some hair from the girl's face. Her lips parted and she seemed to stir slightly. “She's as pale as death.”
Stefan shook his head. “You looked terrible. You still look terrible!” He grinned and dodged a swat from his brother.
“Let's leave the dinghy for now. She needs to get warm. Let's see if we can get her home where Alice can see to her.”
The young prince smiled and followed after his brother, feeling pride swell in his chest. Peter always made decisions quickly and did the right thing.
He was going to be a wonderful king someday.
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