The air in the lavish suite suddenly dropped several degrees, and the playful giggling
of the three sisters died out instantly. From the main arched entrance, the heavy thudof military boots and the rhythmic clinking of silver-scale armor announced a new
arrival. Three figures stepped into the room, their presence so imposing they seemed
to sap the light from the pearl decorations.
These were Jasmine's remaining brothers—the three princes of the Suiseiryu lineage.
Unlike the graceful, mermaid-like elegance of the sisters, the brothers carried the
rugged, formidable aura of the Lizardman side of the family. Their skin had subtle,
shimmering scales at the jawline, and their eyes were slit with the predatory focus of
the Draco ancestors.
"So," the tallest brother rumbled, his voice like grinding coral. "This is the 'beloved'
traveler Jasmine dragged home."
He looked down at Jee-shahn, who was currently lying flat on his back on the silk
divan, holding a grape up to the light to see if it had seeds. Jee-shahn didn't even sit
up. He simply glanced sideways at the three towering warriors who looked like they
could crush a mountain with their bare hands.
"You're blocking my light," Jee-shahn noted lazily. "And you're making a lot of 'noise'
with that armor. Do you have a volume knob, or do I have to find one?"
Jasmine's heart nearly leaped out of her throat. She rushed between her brothers and
the divan, her pigtails trembling. "Brothers! Please! This is Jee-shahn! He... he's a bit
tired from the journey! He's a guest of Father's now!"
The second brother, whose arms were thick as tree trunks, stepped forward with a
sharp, toothy grin. "A guest? He looks more like a snack for the trench-beasts.
Jasmine, Father must be getting old to agree to this. Does this kid even know how to
hold a blade, let alone protect the bloodline of the Winged Messenger?"
He reached down, his massive, claw-tipped hand moving to grab Jee-shahn by his
fur-lined collar to haul him up. "Let's see what's inside these fancy robes."
The sisters gasped, and Jasmine screamed for him to stop, but the movement was
already finished. Or so it seemed.
The brother's hand stopped exactly one inch from Jee-shahn's chest. He didn't hit a
physical barrier, yet his arm began to shake violently. To the observer, it looked like he
was pushing against a wall, but to the brother, it felt like the entire weight of the
southern ocean was suddenly pressing down on his wrist.
Jee-shahn finally popped the grape into his mouth and chewed slowly. He looked up
at the sweating, struggling prince with a dull, azure gaze.
"I told you," Jee-shahn whispered, his voice cold enough to freeze the fountain in the
corner. "You're being too noisy. If you want to touch me, you'd better bring a better
resume than 'High Priest's Son.' Now, sit down before I make the floor much closer to
your face."
With a tiny flick of Jee-shahn's finger, the brother was sent stumbling back five paces,
his heavy armor clattering as he nearly fell. The three princes stared at the "kid" on
the divan, their eyes filling with a mixture of shock and primal fear.
Jasmine stood frozen. She had wanted to save herself from a marriage, but she
realized she had accidentally brought a wolf into a kennel of very angry dogs.