Divergent
Aristotle lead the small group of them down a flowing pathway, leaving the castle behind them. Tris stayed in his wake, his pace showing he had obviously done this before. "So," she said, striking up conversation. "How'd you get to be the Sire?"
"Well," he spoke, slowing a bit to match pace with them. "When the Heiress turns 24, that's the age she becomes an Empress, and within the next few moon cycles or so, her, along with the Marquess and the Marchioness select a male, or female," he added, "to marry the Empress. I thought for sure the candidate would be my brother, Orion, but no, it was me." He shrugged, as if the choice was weird to him too. "Orion went to be a warrior when he couldn't get the Sire position."
"Warrior?" asked one of the demigods in this group, Annabeth, I think.
"Yeah." A slightly reminiscent look crossed Aristotle's face. "Ever since the rising time of Elyssae-Lydian's ruling, a clan by the name of the Vanquished has threatened us multiple times. We've never met them, but they've relayed messages to us multiple ways." By the look on his face, Tris guessed he wouldn't want to talk about it. "We never needed warriors before, but now...there's no saying what they'll do. Luckily, us, along with a few other kingdoms, have created a Forum to discuss these issues, called Zyndere, because this new clan in threatening to destroy the Wrystar peace treaty."
He looked out over the side of the city we were on. "I hope I can trust you. Don't mind Elyssae-Lydian being so secretive all the time. She's under a lot of pressure from all of this, and no offense, but you guys came in at the worst possible time."
He directed his gaze towards the city wall. "So, what do you say? Do you want to meet my brother?" After a general murmur of approval, he smiled, and resumed the head of the group, heading towards the edge of the city.
We stopped at the last building on the street, in front of the base of the wall. It would've looked out of place, if it weren't for the astronomical symbols imprinted on the structure, making it stand out against the mist.
Another entrance to the kingdom was on this side, too, and alongside it, a small tower stood. Aristotle took a deep breath, as if preparing himself. "Be careful," he said to us. "My brother can be very loud. And defensive." Then he knocked.
After a moment of the hurrying of feet to the door, it opened. A small boy, maybe fourteen opened it.
"That's your brother?" asked Tris, in disbelief. Why did Aristotle warn them of someone half their size. "Nope," he answered, "That's his apprentice." Larger footsteps sounded throughout the tower, and a tall muscular man with eyes exactly like Aristotle's came to the door. "That's my brother."