A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden by Shiriluna Nott, SaJa H Page A

gave them.
    After the commotion died down, they received a pair of unexpected guests. Two older boys dropped their plates on the table loudly, one on either side of Diddy, and plopped down. “Hey there, buddy,” one of them said loudly.
    Gib recognized both of them. They were the bullies from the first day of class. Diddy had called them his brothers. Gib swallowed. More royalty? Perfect .
    Diddy groaned as they deliberately invaded his space. “Oh, for the love of The Two. What are you doing here? There must be someone else for you to bother.”
    “But we like you,” the leader from that first day spoke up. He was just as lofty and well-spoken as ever. His dark, almond-shaped eyes shone with smug mischief as he plucked an apple from his plate and took a dainty bite. “Didn’t you miss us?”
    “I can’t miss you if you won’t go away.” The prince’s decorum slipped for the first time. His voice hissed through clenched teeth much like any little brother speaking to his irksome elder siblings.
    “Now, now, Didier. That’s not very becoming for a prince of Arden,” said the second boy with a voice so loud it carried across the room. He trained his voice to sound formal, like how the Queen might scold her son.
    Diddy’s face screamed of his discomfort. He looked as though he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. “Please go away.”
    The boy with the almond-shaped eyes stuck his nose in the air. “You hurt our feelings. You’ll never make a good ambassador like that. And you haven’t even introduced us to your friends.”
    The agony in the prince’s eyes made Gib wish he could come to the rescue once more but he’d have no excuse this time. He knew who the two older boys were now and had no permission to speak lightly to them.
    Diddy sighed, lifting one hand, and signaled to each of his friends in turn. “Tarquin Aldino, Kezra Malin-Rai, Gibben Nemesio, and Nage Nessuno, this is my brother, Hasain Radek, and cousin, Nawaz Arrio.”
    Gib blinked and looked at them both. Diddy’s brother looked nothing like Diddy, but his cousin could have been a mirror double. Nawaz shared the same fair skin, dark hair, and wide, expressive eyes—though his were a shocking blue as opposed to Diddy’s brown. Nawaz also had an odd lock of silver growing over one temple.
    Hasain shared the dark hair, but his was thicker than Diddy’s or Nawaz’s. His shrewd eyes and thin mouth made him look calculating. His soft voice carried well even in such a loud space. “So these were the ones who took pity on you and decided to give you a chance at being ‘normal.’”
    Gib gritted his teeth but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Hasain. Nawaz narrowed his eyes, causing a knot to form in Gib’s stomach. Had he said that out loud? He didn’t like the way those intense eyes focused on him.
    “Hey.” Nawaz’s naturally loud voice seemed to boom all around them. “Aren’t you that boy who mouthed off to us on the first day of class?”
    Gib’s stomach sank, but Diddy jumped in to save him. “He didn’t know who either of you were. Rather, he didn’t know who any of us were.”
    Hasain frowned and stuck his nose in the air. “Where are you from? It would seem your schooling is lacking.”
    Nawaz laughed and slapped a hand on the tabletop. “Did you shit your pants when you found out the truth?” He cackled openly, and Gib thought he heard Kezra and Tarquin snort.
    Taking a slow breath, Gib waited for Nawaz to stop laughing before he responded. “Not quite, but I was startled.” Nawaz laughed some more. Gib turned to look at Hasain. “I’m from Willowdale and you’re right. My schooling is lacking. I was busy raising my brothers on our farm before I was called here.”
    Any merriment either of them may have been enjoying up until that point slipped away. Nawaz sneered and shook his head. Hasain went rigid. Gib prepared himself for more poisonous words and accusations of worthlessness.