“What are you doing here, Roselyn?” Marcus asked, his tone already carrying that older-brother edge of warning.
His younger sister Roselyn stood in the doorway, chin lifted, her bright eyes flashing with determination. She was dressed in a soft green tunic, her dark hair loosely braided, though several strands had already escaped—clear evidence she had been out exploring again.
She was always restless, never staying in one place for long.
Darius noted, with mild irritation, that Gamma Evan was right behind her, looking worn out. The man’s posture screamed fatigue, as though he had been dragged along through Roselyn’s endless misadventures.
Darius almost smirked. His Gamma had once told him he would rather run ten laps along enemy borders than be saddled with Roselyn for a single aftern
