"Father!"
Bryan Oliver Frostbane's excited voice echoed through Nightclaw Estate as he ran down the hallway with a drawing pad tucked under one arm and a handful of crayons clutched in the other. His little feet pounded against the polished floor while two maids hurried after him, trying their best to keep up.
"Your Highness, please slow down," one of them called between breaths. "If you fall again, Mrs. Thompson will blame us."
Bryan looked over his shoulder with a grin that looked far too much like Brandon's.
"I'm not running."
The two maids exchanged helpless looks.
"If this isn't running, then what is it?" the older maid asked.
"I'm flying."
Before either of them could stop him, Bryan pushed open the study door and hurried inside.
"Father, I need your help."
