13. Breaking The Ice

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    Mikael woke early and tugged on his leathers before sheathing Lovis across his back. He ran his fingers through his hair and fluffed out his feathers, then shook his wings out. Umbra curled around his arm beneath his leathers. He was getting used to the feeling by now.

    He headed out the door, keeping his footsteps quiet so as to not wake the others. They would be leaving for the Night Court today and Mikael had been summoned by his fathers for a last minute meeting. He'd already chosen the group of Peregryns accompanying him to Windhaven and Nyx had said that Estelle took care of the Illyrian group.

    Mikael left his hut and found Ameer waiting for him. His arms were crossed and he wore a look of disapproval. "What?" Mikael knit his brows.

    "Did you get in another fight with Ronan?"

    Mikael shook his head. "No, I've been avoiding him ever since the last one. Why? What happened?"

    "I found him blackout drunk near the training rings this morning. There were bruises all over his arms, around his throat, and he could barely speak again. I know you favor throat punches, especially when it comes to him."

    Mikael shook his head once more. "I swear it wasn't me, Father." Umbra trembled against his arm, as though it were angry.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw a slight movement. Estelle emerged from a street close by. She headed towards them, her gaze set with resolution. At once, he understood. She had been the one to fight with Ronan this time. If she told his father, she'd face some sort of punishment.

    "It wasn't me," Mikael repeated, "but I'm sure whoever it was had their reasons. Ronan is an unpopular male."

    Estelle froze and Ameer studied him thoughtfully. His father nodded at last and beckoned for him to follow. Mikael glanced at Estelle as he leaped into the air. She spun on her heel and walked away.

    Mikael followed Ameer up the side of a mountain and through the clouds. When they emerged above them, sunlight reflected off the opalescent Palace. Mikael grinned happily. It had been far too long since he was home. He might not be there to stay, but even a few minutes in the Palace would be enough.

    They drew their wings up and landed. Thesan was already waiting for them beneath an archway. Ameer greeted him with a kiss, then backed away. "I'm going to go make sure the preparations for the transfer are in order." Thesan nodded and Ameer rested a hand on Mikael's shoulder briefly as he passed by.

    "Come." Thesan held out an arm. "Tell me how the last two weeks went. Letters are hardly enough, especially when you made them as short as you did."

    "Sorry," Mikael rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It seemed strange to be writing letters to you when you were just a short flight away."

    "I missed you too," Thesan chuckled. He draped an arm over Mikael's shoulders, pocketing his other hand. "Now, elaborate on your letters. Did training go well? Were there any problems? Have you and Estelle started to get along?"

    "I can't answer all your questions at once, Father." Thesan inclined his head. "Training went all right. The Illyrians listened to Father's orders and were willing to partner up with Peregryns. There weren't a lot of problems. I got along well with Nyx, Lysander, and Corbin. They seemed to like Calden."

    "And Estelle?"

    "Celeste and Sienna had no complaints about her other than she's quiet and a little nervous at times." Thesan raised an eyebrow. Mikael sighed. "We got into another argument the first time we trained together. I tried to apologize later, but I just made her even angrier."

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