The sun bore down mercilessly on the backs of the guards lining the road. Oleander couldn't remember the last time it had rained; tiny puffs of bone-dry red dirt rose around their horses' hooves with every step they took. They were outfitted with leather-bound waterskins strapped to their saddles, but sweat still dripped down the guards' faces and stung their eyes.

Oleander peered down the long, winding dirt road, its surface simmering in the heat. Patrolling the path that led into the heart of the kingdom was mind-numbingly boring at best and outright unbearable on days like this. Though they were supposed to remain fully armored to deter any potential thieves or assassins creeping towards the palace, they'd all stripped off their helmets and hung them over their saddle horns to avoid boiling their heads in their own sweat.

Oleander stretched his arms above his head with a wince, his shoulders cracking audibly as he did so. They'd all been up at the crack of dawn to train and run drills, and his back and shoulders ached from hours of boxing and swordfighting. He wanted nothing more than to escape the heat and return to the cool darkness of his quarters for a well-deserved rest.

One of his superiors - a lieutenant, if he remembered correctly - passed by and nodded at him briefly. He returned the gesture with a jerk of his chin. Much of the Royal Guard had expressed their displeasure at how quickly he rose through the ranks, particularly because of his age. Most of Oleander's fellow guards were at least in their mid-30s; at 26, he was by far the youngest guard. It was impossible to ignore the whispers that he had been appointed to the Guard thanks to his friendship with the two young princes. He didn't mind the rumors; he had been inducted into the Guard because he deserved it, not because he'd batted his eyelashes at a few royals.

The sound of hooves clattering against the dusty road drew closer. Oleander sighed in relief when he spotted the red and orange uniform of the Guard; the next shift, coming to relieve them of their duties.

He and his fellow guards trotted out to meet the next shift in the center of the road. They gave their report: no activity along the main road. It was far too hot for anyone to be traveling, much less along the main road with its lack of shade and tree cover. Oleander slipped his helmet back on, wincing as the hot metal brushed against his cheeks and neck.

"Scarduzio," a voice barked. He turned to see another lieutenant, this one scarred and grizzled, scowling at him.

"Yes, sir?" Oleander's heart sank. He braced himself for the inevitable order to stay out and suffer in the heat with the new shift.

"You're wanted up in the palace. Some sort of meeting going on. Princes want you there, of course." The lieutenant rolled his eyes, but Oleander was too relieved to be getting out of this miserable weather to care.

"Thank you, sir. Will do." He dug his heels into his horse's side and trotted off after the rest of the slowly retreating guards.

This part of the main road was wedged around a rare copse of trees that towered too far above the ground to provide much shelter from the elements. They also served to block the kingdom itself from view until you rounded the corner and found yourself face-to-face with the massive city. Oleander nudged his horse into a canter and nodded at his fellow guards as he passed them and swept through the copper gates enclosing the city.

Even after living there for over a decade, the Fire Kingdom still took Oleander's breath away sometimes. Built upon a hill, it had been constructed in three layers. The first was populated by businesses and a few scattered, small homes. Oleander rode past market stalls offering fresh fruit, real golden jewelry, and countless other items. Anything a person wanted, they could find in the kingdom's market.

The second layer was the residential district, where most of the city's citizens lived. Humble cabins sat next to towering manors; there was no class division here. Children chased one another over the spotless cobblestone paths, darting in front of Oleander's horse more than once.

The third tier was occupied entirely by the palace. Oleander had stood staring at it with his mouth agape for several minutes when he'd first arrived. It stood tall enough to block out the sun's rays at certain times of the day. It was constructued of an luxurious red stone that reminded him of a refined type of brick.

Oleander steered his horse towards the royal stables just behind the palace. Even the barns were opulent; able to hold fifty horses each, they were built out of pale wood and outfitted with gold trappings. Oleander untacked his horse swiftly and settled him in his massive box stall, where he promptly laid down and rolled in the fresh pile of shavings laid out for him.

The back entrance to the palace was popular among the royal servants and guards, and it was this entrance that Oleander took now. It was a much quicker, more direct route to the guards' quarters through the back door. He jogged up one of the palace's winding stone staircases to the second floor, where his room was located. He was already in uniform, but his clothing was soaked in sweat and likely reeked. He didn't have enough time to wash off before the meeting, so he would just have to deal with any remaining body odor.

Oleander's room was small but comfortable. Made entirely of stone, it had a decently-sized window that overlooked the center of the kingdom. In the evenings, he often sat and watched the passerby below going about their lives. He stripped out of his filthy clothing and pawed through his wardrobe until he found a clean uniform, identical to the one he had just removed.

A small handheld mirror sat on a wooden stool nearby, propped against a basin of cool water. Oleander dipped his fingers into the water, wishing desperately to dump the entire thing over his head, and ran his fingers through his hair quickly, hoping to undo the mess that his sweaty helmet had made. It ended up just looking even wetter, but it would have to do. He snatched his sword in its scabbard off the floor and affixed it to his belt meticulously, taking a final glance at himself in the mirror as he did so. He looked a mess, and sincerely hoped that there would be no other guards at the meeting to compare his unkempt appearance to. He sighed and hurried out of his room and back downstairs to the cavernous meeting hall.

Oleander followed slowly in Tallan's wake, wracking his brain desperately for something he could say to reassure him. There had to be some code somewhere preventing Atreyu from replacing his heir for such a petty reason? Even if there was, Atreyu was the king, and his word was law. He could easily have his scribes whip up something to defend his choice. Albus could refuse to accept the title of heir and defer to Tallan? Oleander had grown up with both princes, and he couldn't imagine Albus doing anything like that, even for the sake of his brother. They would go to Atreyu and demand to know why he had removed Tallan from the position, why he suddenly thought he was unfit for the role? No, that would only intensify the king's scrutiny of his son, and Oleander - at best- would be tossed into the dungeons for treason.

They had reached Tallan's quarters. The queen and the twins had disappeared down the hallway, likely retiring to their own rooms to mull over this change in succession or, in Queen Elise's case, rest after such a stressful gathering.

Oleander exchanged a wordless nod with the prince and took up his post next to his chamber door. The door closed behind Tallan with a soft click, and Oleander suddenly felt desperately along in the long, shadowy hall. He knew that his emotions were nothing compared to what Tallan must be feeling, but he still kept expecting Atreyu or Albus to strut down the hallway, those insufferable knowing smirks still written across their faces. He had no idea what he would do the next time he was called to accompany one of them. Even just standing in the throne room, still in a state of shock, he had wanted to grab them and shake them furiously, ask them what the hell they were thinking replacing Tallan, who was probably the most intelligent and compassionate person he knew. As a ruler, Albus would pale in comparison to him; he was too headstrong, too short-tempered, too arrogant. Tallan was patient, kind, and smart, and he would have no trouble keeping the peace among the Realms. Albus, on the other hand... well, Oleander wasn't so sure.

Another Royal Guard stalked by, snapping Oleander out of his thoughts. His eyes darted between the thick wooden door to Tallan's chambers and Oleander, leaning against the stone wall next to it. He looked as if he might pause for a moment, but to Oleander's relief, he seemed to think twice and continued down the hall.

He supposed the rest of the Guard had likely been instructed to keep a closer eye on him thanks to his bond with Tallan, but it stung nonetheless. He sighed and tipped his head back against the cool stone. The idea of serving under Albus was almost unbearable; they had grown up together, but there was a reason that Oleander preferred Tallan's company. Albus already had a massive ego, and being the heir to a kingdom would almost certainly give him an insufferable superiority complex. Besides, he had obviously been aware of and likely been involved in the plan to switch heirs, and had been rewarded with a role that he didn't rightfully deserve.

The sound of a door creaking echoed down the still hall, and a soft voice murmured his name. Oleander turned to find Tallan hovering in the entrance of his chambers, holding the door open slightly in invitation. Oleander surveyed the hallway to ensure that they were alone before slipping inside, shutting the door behind him silently.

While all the royal chambers were massive and opulently decorated, Oleander had always found Tallan's room quite cozy. Books littered nearly every available surface, and sheafs of parchment lay across the floor or the quilts folded on the bed.

Oleander lingered uneasily near the door. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Tallan and do his best to provide some semblance of comfort, but the idea of leaving his post unguarded made him anxious. He wasn't putting Tallan in danger - he was probably safer with Oleander in the room anyway - but he doubted that now was not a good time for a fellow Guard to discover that he'd abandoned his post.

Tallan was studying him intently. Oleander opened his mouth to speak, but Tallan cut him off quickly. That was unlike him, and it made Oleander all the more upset; the change in heirs was obviously eating at him.

He had expected the prince to ask him if he knew about the plot. Oleander was close to most of the royal family and was most often assigned to directly keep watch over them during their day-to-day activities. It would have made more sense for him to be aware of the plan, to be frank. But Atreyu and Albus had obviously withheld the details from his purposefully. They suspected he would go straight to Tallan if he became suspicious, and they were probably right.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "They might've let something slip around me for all I know, but I wouldn't have understood what it meant if I didn't know about their plan." He began to pace the perimeter of the room. "The rest of the Guard knew, though, I could tell. None of them were surprised when your father made his announcement. They were probably told to anticipate the possibility of the commoners resisting the change. But they didn't tell me." He was quiet for a moment. "I think they realized I would come to you if I found anything out." Oleander glanced up and met Tallan's gaze. "They were right, honestly. If I'd realized what was happening, I would have told you, and maybe we could have figured out a plan to counter theirs before all this happened." His voice had turned bitter, but he was angry at himself now, rather than Tallan's family, for failing to notice the signs that must have been so obvious before him.

The forlorn, melancholic expression in Tallan's eyes had not disappeared. Oleander's fingers twitched at his sides. He was not one for physical affection, but he was struck by the urge to cross the room and wrap his arms around the prince.

Tallan's entire body suddenly stiffened; Oleander was reminded strongly of a prey animal that had heard something much larger than itself crashing through the brush. Before he could ask what was wrong, Tallan had grasped him by the shoulders and nudged him behind one of the thick wooden support beams stretching towards the ceiling. He couldn't see the door from here, he realized; he must be hidden from anyone who stood in the entrance as well.

As if on cue, a knock rapped against the thick wooden door. Oleander heard Tallan's footsteps, the creak of the door, and the prince's soft voice, though he couldn't make out what he was saying.

The next voice was crystal-clear, however. Albus's monotonous, self-righteous drawl had Oleander clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth to stop himself from leaping out and shouting. It sounded like the other princde was giving some half-assed apology, but Tallan snapped back at him. Good for him, Oleander thought. Albus's voice rose and fell in volume but remained emotionless, while Tallan spoke softly with a raging current of anger beneath his words.

Two sets of smaller footsteps thudded into the room. Oleander almost sighed in relief. The two older siblings would not argue so viciously with the twins around. He could hear them chirping at Tallan and sweeping through the room to collect whatever books they found interesting.

Reya drifted towards the bed, which lay against the opposite wall, parallel to where Oleander hid. She hopped onto her tiptoes to retrieve a book from where it was nestled in the covers, and Oleander hardly dared to breathe. She was preparing to dart back to Tallan when she turned her head just so and caught sight of Oleander.

Oleander pressed his finger to his lips and shook his head frantically, but that didn't stop the princess from calling out to him and darting across the room to wrap him in a hug. Albus repeated his name mockingly, and a surge of anger flared in his chest. He patted Reya's shoulders gently and shifted ever so slightly so that he was just barely in Albus's field of vision. He didn't want to seem like he was hiding from him, of all people.

Albus stalked out of the room after a few more terse exchanges with Tallan, slamming the door behind him with much more force than necessary. Oleander edged out of his hiding place slowly, Reya still huddled against him. She seemed anxious, having picked up on the animosity between her brothers, and Oleander rubbed her arm reassuringly.

Koda, however, had already moved on, scrambling across the desk to reach a book that had caught his eye. Reya finally left Oleander's side when she spied a particularly interesting volume in her brother's hands.

Tallan was still standing listlessly near the door. Oleander drew closer to him. "Do you think your father forced him to come?" he whispered, too quietly for the twins to hear. "Or do you think... maybe he just wanted to gloat." He winced even as the words left his mouth. That would be cruel, even for Albus, whose arrogance seemed to know no bounds.

The shock of Albus's sudden appearance had faded, replaced with fury and indignation. "I assumed your father was behind the plot, but I wonder if Albus had more influence then we think." Oleander hated putting those thoughts out, especially for Tallan to hear. Albus had always had a bit of a mean streak, but the idea of him invalidating his brother's claim to the throne was more than just cruelty.

He leaned in more closely and spoke in a quiet voice that the twins wouldn't be able to pick up on. "Is... is there anything I can do?"