by H. L. Burke
His breath grew ragged. He shut his eyes but did not pull away from her. Emboldened she slid her arm around her neck and brought herself even closer. The bright white magic radiated off him, singing to her. Her blood warmed as the power within her blossomed like coals kindling to fire. She pressed her lips against his, warm, soft, perfect.
Kay yanked away with a gasp. His face reddened, and his gape hardened into a glare. Arynne’s heart skipped.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice cold and hard as Frorian ice. His magic spiked beneath her touch, and she stumbled as the ground beneath them shifted from soft grass to hard stone. Kay released her, prying her hands from his body and turning his back to her.
Someone gave a yelp. Swaying on her feet, Arynne tried to absorb her new surroundings. They stood in a stone courtyard, surrounded by high walls. On one side was a metal gate, the other a broad staircase leading up to a set of carved wooden doors. Four young men and two women—all in garb similar to Kay’s—stood, holding spears.
One of them, a brown haired youth with dark eyes, rushed up to them. “Kajik! Where did you come from? I thought you were on a mission with Starwarden Ivak.”
“I was.” Kay sloughed off his heavy winter cloak and draped it over his arm. “I need to speak to my father and brother as well as whatever starwarden is on duty now.”
“Jaxon,” the youth replied. “He’s in the barracks, I believe. Doing an inspection.”
“Tell him there’s a pack of grimwolves within a few miles of the city. I traveled away from them, but I last saw them in the Shadow Vale along the main road.”
The youth paled. “Is Starwarden Ivak in danger? Did he send you for help?”
Kay’s gaze dropped to his feet. “Ivak is dead, Crede. Avalanche, several moonnotches ago, along the road. Took out our whole group except me and my charge.”
His charge. Arynne’s ears burned. Was that what she was to him now? The way the other wardens were staring at her did nothing to ease her discomfort. Even the young man talking with Kay shot her a confused glance before shouting to another warden, “Get Starwarden Jaxon,” and rushing up the stairs and through the wooden doors into the palace.
Kay kept his back to her. Her heart shriveled. Maybe it had been a mistake to kiss him, but it was the only way to make him see. Now, though, it was too late. The palace loomed above them, an ominous presence of gray stone. Arynne shivered. So this was it? Kay was going to pretend nothing happened and hand her over to his brother as if she were a basket of wares and he a paid delivery man.
Well, after all, this was what she’d agreed to. A marriage to a stranger in a land far away. I’ll still be freer here than I would’ve been in Solea. I’ll still be able to use my magic. Oh, but why does that feel so empty now?
Should she apologize to Kay? Try to make amends for her ill-considered kiss before his brother and father arrived?
A man with a bald head and white-fading the edge of his red beard emerged from the barracks and hurried to Kay. “Prince Kajik, is it true? Ivak’s gone?”
Arynne rubbed her arms, feeling cold in spite of the warm air around her—again not as hot as Solea, but pleasant. Somehow it didn’t reach inside her, though. Kay and Jaxon spoke in hushed tones, Jaxon occasionally nodding.
“Kay!” a voice cried out. The palace doors burst open, and a man in a fine silver tunic and black trousers rushed down the steps. Ignoring all else, he ran to Kay and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thank the Ever, you’re all right!”
Arynne crept closer. He was even with Kay in height—if one were taller it was by a slim enough margin that she couldn’t see it—though slightly broader of shoulder. While Kay had dark hair, this young man had fair. They wore their hair and beards in identical fashion as well. A chill crept through her. Could it be ...?
“I’m all right,” Kay said, though he didn’t release the other man. “Olyn, I’m fine.”
Arynne swallowed. So it was Olyn. He didn’t seem very concerned about whether his bride had arrived, considering.
“Crede said there was an avalanche and Ivak and the others—” Olyn opened his arm and withdrew to hold Kay at arm’s length. He had blue eyes, identical in shade to his brother’s but somehow more solemn. “If you’d died trying to ... I’d have never forgiven myself.”
“Well, I didn’t die.” Kay’s mouth quirked into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Where’s Father?”
A wrinkle of displeasure crossed Olyn’s face. “We were in the throne room when Crede brought the news of your arrival. I’ll bring you to him.”
Arynne blinked. King Evyd wasn’t going to come to the gate to meet his son? After a lengthy journey that had almost cost him his life? What sort of a man was he?
Before she could voice her disbelief, Olyn’s gaze fell on her, and his jaw dropped.
“Who ...? Is this ...?” His mouth worked but nothing came out. “Hello, I’m ... Oh, frost burn me. You probably don’t speak Frorian. Um ...” He dropped into heavily accented Solean. “Welcome you to my home—”
“I actually speak fluent Frorian.” Arynne interrupted him in his native tongue.
Kay cleared his throat. “Olyn, may I present Princess Arynne of Solea.”
“You speak Frorian?” Olyn stepped closer to her. “That'll make this a little easier, I guess.” His gaze flitted over, obviously surveying her while trying very hard to look as if he wasn't. He blushed and averted his eyes. “Sorry, I’m making a regular sheep-brain of myself. When I heard Kay had arrived without the caravan, I guess I assumed—but you did make it.”
“Thanks to Kay,” she whispered, suddenly feeling small and frightened. Under any other circumstance, Olyn would’ve been exactly what she’d wanted. He was tall, handsome, and with an expression and manner that even in the brief moments since she’d first beheld him spoke to a kind and gentle heart. More so than his father, anyway, who hadn’t even bothered to check in on his recently returned son. However, he wasn’t Kay. Remembering her lips against his brother’s so recently, she couldn’t bring herself to look Olyn in the eye.
“Yes, thanks to Kay.” Olyn grasped Kay by the shoulder, pulling him closer. Kay still managed to stand angled away from her. “When I asked Kay to help choose a bride for me, I confess as shallow as it sounds, beauty was a concern. I shouldn’t have doubted—you’re lovely.”
“Thank you.” The warmth in her cheeks flared to an inferno. “You also—” She nearly bit her own tongue. “I mean, you don’t disappoint in that way.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m glad you think so.” He offered her his hand, adorned with a single silver ring with a starshard crystal setting. “I’d like to take you to meet my father, if you’re ready.”
Arynne hesitated. Was she really just going to accept this? Every instinct within her screamed to stomp her foot, to shout her displeasure, to protest that she didn’t want Olyn, no matter how courteous and handsome he might be. She wanted Kay!
And Kay wanted her. Even though he denied it, she could tell, he did.
She glanced at him. He continued to stare past her, as if she wasn’t even there.
Agony pierced her heart only for it to immediately harden. Well, two could sing that song.
She slipped her fingers into Olyn’s. “Yes, take me to meet your father.”
Chapter Eighteen
They ascended the great stone steps and entered the palace through the carved wooden doors, Arynne holding lightly to Olyn’s hand and Kay trailing behind. A great hallway lit with suspended starshard crystals and lined with columns carved to resemble bears, wolves, and other animals stretched before them. At the end of it, another pair of heavy doors, these of some silvery metal engraved with stars, waited, ajar.
Kay cleared his throat and hung back. “I really should help Starwarden Jaxon.”
Olyn released Arynne’s hand to face his brother. “Kajik, you don’t need to avoid him. You brought the princess here safely, like you promised.”
“I just know
how he always finds a reason to be—” Kay paused then let out a long breath. “I would be more use elsewhere now is all.”
The thought of him leaving, of her being left to face the king she’d heard such terrible things about without a familiar face to bolster her, weakened Arynne’s resolve.
“Please.” Arynne faced him. “You can be there for me. You ... you said I was your sister now. I want you there.” Her gut twisted, but maybe he’d see that as a peace offering, acknowledging his point of view on their relationship, no matter how false it felt to her.
He shifted from foot to foot. “I suppose I can’t avoid him forever.”
Olyn didn’t offer Arynne his hand again. She was grateful for this. It felt like a lie, holding his hand when all she wanted was to be with his brother.
Olyn slipped through the open doors. Arynne started to follow, but noticing Kay had stopped walking, she likewise hung back.
“Father, Kajik brought the princess back! He saved her from the avalanche.”
“Where is she?” a gruff voice asked.
Olyn peeked out and waved. “Come in.”
Kay cringed but followed Olyn into the throne room, Arynne on his heels.
A great throne of the same silver metal as the doors stood on a raised dais. Various Frorians—both men and women—stood about the room, as if the king had been hosting an audience when they’d arrived. The king himself sat on the throne wearing a great cloak of white fur. He had gray hair and a face that resembled Kay’s, but harder, with deep furrows and angry hazel eyes. He wore no crown, but a silver ring with a starshard crystal bedecked his hand, identical to Olyn’s. He stood.
“So, you brought your brother a bride?”
Kay bowed at the waist and stepped aside so Arynne could approach. “Father, this is Princess Arynne of Solea, sister of their king.”
King Evyd’s eyes sharpened to glaring points. “Sister? Not daughter?”
Kay let out a breath. “The title is still—”
“I said to fetch a princess!” Evyd snapped. “A princess is the daughter of a king.”
“In Solea, it is the daughters, but also the sisters,” Arynne burst out, her heart in her throat. “Besides, my brother’s daughters are too young to wed yet. Would you have had Kajik bring a child instead of a woman?”
Evyd recoiled. “You speak Frorian?”
Arynne gave a curt nod.
“A pity.” Evyd settled sulkily into his throne. “I had looked forward to a few starcycles of you lurking in silence.”
Arynne’s face warmed, but before she could snap, Evyd continued.
“So you say the other princesses are children? You hardly seem more than a child yourself.” He descended from the dais, his cloak trailing behind him like the feathered train of a regalcock. He placed his finger under Arynne’s chin, tilting her face up towards his.
Instinctively she jerked away, glaring at him.
Rage pinched Evyd’s eyes. He opened his mouth, but Olyn stepped between them.
“Father, perhaps we should take this meeting away from prying eyes.” The prince blocked Arynne’s view of the king, which was probably good. She’d been about to say some choice words about not having struggled across his frozen wasteland of a country, facing cold, avalanches, and grimwolves to be called a child ... which would’ve been satisfying, but common sense told her Evyd wouldn’t like it very much.
Evyd huffed. “I supposed. I also want to question your brother about the journey. Let us retire to my study.”
Arynne clung close to Kay as they followed his father, King Evyd, through the cold stone halls of the palace. Olyn trailed after her, his blue eyes that looked so much like Kay’s wide open, a look of incredulity on his face that suggested he didn’t quite believe she was real. After turning into a side hall, they entered a large room with a crackling fire, fur rugs, and ornate woodwork—probably expensive considering how few trees grew in the wastes of Frorheim. Evyd settled in a great chair before the fire and motioned towards a series of smaller wooden chairs upholstered in animal hide. Olyn hurried to offer one to Arynne.
She whispered thanks and settled into it. The warmth from the fire bled through her skin and into her bones, and for the first time since they’d entered Frorheim, she felt truly warm. Olyn sat beside her, still shooting her constant side-glances, but Kay remained standing, his arms crossed, his chin high.
“So, tell me how, Kajik, I send you on a mission with a troop of my best men, including one of my most trusted advisors, Lord Rafal, and my longest serving Starwarden, Ivak, and you somehow limp home with only your own cowardly self and the princess.”
Arynne nearly fell out of her seat. Was he joking?
Kay shifted from foot to foot. “As I said, sir, there was an avalanche. I had barely enough time to travel to safety with the princess, let alone—”
“I doubt very much that you tried.” The old man scoffed. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Traveling takes, what? The blink of an eye? Did you allow fear to slow your reaction? Wasn’t there enough time to save at least Rafal? Or Ivak who you claimed to respect so much?”
Kay squared his shoulders. “I did my best.”
“Oh, of that I’m sure.” Evyd laughed derisively.
“Father,” Olyn said, his voice soft, like a man attempting to calm a snarling dog. “Kajik managed to bring the princess to safety—”
“Yes, he did the bare minimum of what was required of him. As always. Probably because he knew if he’d returned without her, I would finally have the excuse I’ve been looking for to throw him to the grimwolves.”
Arynne stared at the back of Kajik’s head, waiting for him to speak up for himself. Instead, he just stood, absorbing the barrage of unwarranted criticism. A spike of agony stabbed through her chest followed closely by hot, simmering rage.
“But I should know better by now than to expect anything more from you than laziness and—”
“Stop it!” Arynne burst from her chair, hands clenched to stop them from shaking—or clawing at that awful old man like a wild sandcat. She wasn’t sure which.
Olyn and Evyd stared at her, though Kay kept his eyes forward.
“Kajik saved my life. I would not be standing here if he hadn’t acted quickly and decisively. He kept me alive and more than that, he kept me moving forward when I was terrified and lost. He is a brave, capable, intelligent man, and you ... how dare you speak to him like that?”
Olyn tugged at her sleeve, probably wanting her to sit down and shut up, but she shook him off and continued to glare daggers at Evyd.
“You should thank the Ever that you’ve been given such a son!”
For a moment anger pinched the king’s face, then he waved a dismissive hand at her. “Women think with their hearts, not their brains. It causes them to pity and shelter the pathetic—useful for when they must suckle a helpless babe, less so when needed to judge the character of a man.”
Arynne’s mind exploded into a chaotic mess of all the curses she wished to fling at him at once.
Kajik laughed.
Evyd’s glare snapped to him.
“Sir, if you think that, it’s only because you don’t know Arynne.” Kay smirked. “I’ve never met a shrewder—”
Evyd snapped his fingers, and a burst of light shot from his hand, impacting against Kay’s chest. Kay gave a gasp of pain and toppled head over heels into the nearest wall.
“Kay!” Arynne and Olyn screamed as one. Arynne reached towards him, but Olyn appeared at his brother’s side in an instant—apparently a traveler like his brother.
“Easy.” Olyn helped the moaning Kay sit up. “Are you all right?”
“It was barely a love tap.” Evyd shook his head before sinking back into his chair. “If he wants to see a mender over a slap of magic to the face, that’s his business, but a man would be embarrassed to complain over such a minor blow.”
Arynne stumbled towards Kay, but before she could reach him, he pushed Olyn away a
nd staggered to his feet. He glared at his father one last time then disappeared from the room in a crackle of magic.
Olyn’s shoulders slumped. “Great. Where did he get to now?”
“Probably the tavern, knowing him.” Evyd put his feet up on an ottoman made of a taxidermied fox. “He’ll be blackout drunk in an hour.”
“I need to go find him.” Olyn took a step towards the door.
“And leave your intended alone? On her first moonnotch in our kingdom?” Evyd said pointedly.
Olyn’s steps faltered, and he glanced at Arynne.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. Better if he’d take her on his search for Kay, but she wasn’t sure if it was safe to say that. She was already on thin ice. If Evyd found out about her affections for Kay, she wasn’t sure how he’d react. A man who could treat his son like that would have no qualms about turning a foreign princess out into the snowy wastes.
“No, in that he’s right. I need to at least make sure you’re settled.” He offered her his hand, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I am so sorry this had to be your introduction to our family. It’s ... it’s not always like this, I swear.”
He had a kind face ... and Kay’s eyes. Remembering how fondly Kay had spoken of his brother, she couldn’t bring herself to resent him, even if he was unknowingly keeping her from Kay.
Kay ...
Her heart ached for him.
Olyn swept her out of the room, closing the door to his father’s study behind him. “We weren’t sure when you’d be arriving, but I wanted to have quarters ready for you all the same.” He led her to a narrow stair hidden behind a red curtain. They went up a flight and found themselves on a smaller hall, still lit by starshards and with multiple doors opening off both sides. “This is the family wing.” He glanced around. “It’s mostly empty now. My father’s chambers are at the far end, and mine a door down from his, but other than that most of these rooms are vacant now, reserved for important guests, which we seldom have. Kay’s room is across from mine, but he usually prefers to sleep in the barracks with the other wardens.”