by H. L. Burke
Kay.
With the fight over, the consequences of her magic use gripped her. Her blood chilled to ice. She tried to speak, but her teeth chattered, making it impossible to form coherent words.
His arms surrounded her. She huddled against his chest, drawing strength from his warmth and crackling magic.
“I’ve got you,” he soothed. “Take what you need from me.”
Footsteps hammered down the stone path.
“Starwarden Kajik, what was that?” a male voice asked.
“Grimowls,” Kay answered.
“In the light of the Starspire? Impossible!” Arynne managed to look up. It was Starwarden Jaxon and two younger wardens.
“Tell that to the two I killed.” Kay jerked his thumb towards a splat of feathers and what appeared to be soot on the grass nearby. Not much left but, from how the blood drained from Jaxon’s face, apparently recognizable.
“By the Ever,” he breathed.
“We need a mender.” Kay pressed his hands against the wounds on Arynne’s back, probably to stop the bleeding, but the pressure sent another jolt of pain through her. She gritted her teeth, unwilling to cry out. One of the wardens dashed off.
“Were there only the two?” Jaxon’s brow furrowed.
“Five,” Arynne managed to gasp. “I killed two and wounded one, but not badly. I think it got away.”
“It did, but it was flying unsteadily.” Kay’s magic leached into her blood, chasing away the cold. “It limped off to the north, over the town. Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t make it into the frozen wastes.”
“I’ll send some scouts into the city to see if they can track it.”
“Arynne! Kay?” Olyn sprinted down the path, Clindt at his heels.
“She’s injured.” Kay stood. “Clindt, help her!”
The mender crouched over her, concern twisting his face. He pried the sticky fabric away from the wounds. Arynne flinched from the stinging.
He let out a whistle. “Thank the Ever. These are shallow.” A cooling sensation trickled into the wounds, numbing the pain. “She’ll need to rest, but I can easily close the lacerations.” Clindt rubbed her upper back around the wounds. “You’re going to be fine, Arynne. Deep breath. I’m almost done.”
A tightening sensation, as if the edges of her wounds were pulling back together, rippled across her skin.
“What happened here?” Evyd rounded the corner, a tall, stern-faced woman at his side.
“Grimowl attack.” Kay wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “Targeting the princess, it looks like.”
“Grimowls? In the city?” The woman arched an eyebrow. “Impossible. Those foul creatures aren't strong enough to pierce the magic protecting the Starspire.”
“I killed two, Aunt Friya.” Kay pointed to the remains. “Also, your son is treating Arynne’s wounds. What more proof do you need?”
Friya’s lips pursed. “If so, then the dark powers have grown stronger than we anticipated.”
Clindt helped Arynne stand. She wobbled, and Olyn rushed to support her. She whispered thanks, though she did her best not to lean on him.
Evyd grunted, approached the owl-smudge, and kicked at the feathers. “This changes nothing. If anything, it drives home my point that we need to do the heartbond ceremony as soon as possible. If grims are growing in power and boldness, it means the boundaries between here and the Lingering Dark are weakening. Athan’s return won’t be far behind. I will not allow Frorheim to fall into darkness.”
Olyn shifted from foot to foot. “All right. If Arynne is willing to move up the ceremony, so am I. For Frorheim.”
Arynne glanced at Kay. He avoided her eyes. Her soul twisted, but the threat was real and growing. No matter how much she desired Kay, she could not doom a kingdom to darkness. No, that would not be the actions of a worthy queen.
“For Frorheim,” she said, ignoring the ache creeping into her chest. Her fate was sealed. She would marry for duty, not love.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kay shoved his gear into his pack. After the grimowl attack, Olyn had traveled away with Arynne and Clindt, hoping to get her settled and cleaned up. As soon as they were gone, Kay’s father had approached him and sullenly said, “Three wardens. No more. If you get those three killed, don’t bother to come back yourself.”
Kay had given him a stony nod. Even when Father gave Kay what he wanted, the old man couldn’t resist wrapping it in a reminder of how little Kay mattered. Well, Kay would take whatever scraps his father threw him. At least he now had the needed excuse to escape the Starspire before Olyn and Arynne’s ceremony.
He paused and closed his eyes, reliving the panic that had surged through him when he’d heard her shout for help—then the competing senses of pride and terror as he traveled to her and found her single-handedly facing a parliament of grimowls. A smile quirked his lips. She was a force to be reckoned with—fire and steel and passion. She’d be fine. A girl as resilient as Arynne would easily move on from whatever attachment she’d developed towards him.
Kay, though—
Heartache simmered in his chest like a sickness. He loved her. He’d spent so much time trying to label the emotion anything else—brotherly affection, admiration, infatuation—but no. She’d burrowed into his soul, and he had no hope of forgetting her. Watching Olyn court her, hearing about the plans for the ceremony, it all made Kay feel like a man standing at the gallows, praying for salvation but without hope.
His only solace was that Olyn didn’t know. Perhaps Kay wouldn’t have to lose his brother along with his heart. That was something to live for, a reason to keep going when all he wanted was to lie down and give up.
Someone knocked on the door. Kay fastened his pack closed, placed it on the bed next to his cold-weather uniform, and ambled to the door.
Once he opened it, Olyn gazed at him, blue eyes worried, mouth drawn.
Fear coursed through Kay at his brother’s grim expression. Had something gone wrong with Arynne’s healing?
“Is Arynne all right?” he asked.
Olyn nodded. “She’s fine. Sleeping now. Clindt felt sure enough in her recovery that he went home. Said he’d be back after the dimming to check on her, but she just needed to rest.”
Kay chuckled. “Clindt will take any excuse to get away from the palace and back to his wife and kids. He’s a broody hen.”
“Well, I can’t blame him.” Olyn smiled. “If I could escape from the politics and the turmoil of life at court, I would as well.” He craned his neck to look around Kay, caught sight of the gear on the bed, and winced. “It’s true, then? You’re going back out?”
Kay shrugged and moved aside so Olyn could enter. “Grims won’t hunt themselves.”
Olyn shut the door behind him. “When are you leaving?”
“After this dimming.” Kay pulled his boots out from under the bed and rubbed at the soles with his thumb, not examining them for real, but pretending to so he didn’t have to look at Olyn.
“So soon? Kay, my heartbonding with Arynne is in two moonnotches.”
Agony squeezed Kay’s heart. “So I heard. Congratulations.”
“You won’t be there?”
Bracing himself and keeping his his face as expressionless as possible, Kay looked up at his brother. “It’s not like I’m really needed. It’s a private ceremony. Father doesn’t want me there—”
“I want you there.” Olyn stepped closer. “Kay, this is a major happening for me. My life is going to change, and I’m frankly terrified. Just having you in the room when the ceremony happens will mean the stars to me.”
Kay swallowed. How could he make Olyn understand without letting on how he felt about Arynne? “Father and I in close quarters is a really bad idea right now, Olyn.”
“This isn’t about Father.” Olyn scowled. “Honestly, I’d sooner he not be there than you. He’s been worse than ever lately, and I could use a break from managing his temper.”
Kay tappe
d his fingers against his thigh. Though Father didn’t tend to take things out on Olyn the way he did with Kay, Olyn often took it upon himself to protect everyone else from their father’s outbursts. Kay especially, but also other family, palace servants, and even the populace in general.
“Well, it isn’t as if Father will stay away. He’s too invested in it working.” Kay pushed aside doubt.
“I still want you there, and I don’t understand why you can’t wait a moonnotch or two to start your mission—or better let another warden lead the hunt.”
“I’m the only starcaster and one of the only travelers,” Kay pointed out. “I’m the best for the job.”
“You’re also my only brother!” Olyn’s tone sharpened.
Kay froze. Olyn rarely raised his voice.
Olyn let out a long breath before continuing. “Please, Kay, I need you there. Maybe it’s selfish but—”
“You’re the last person in the kingdom I’d call selfish.” Kay shook his head. “I’m not sure you even know how to be.”
“Oh, I can be. I just don’t get called out for it the way you do.” Olyn smiled bitterly. “I’m not asking for you to stay beyond the ceremony. You can leave immediately after, but a heartbond might as well be a marriage. Father wants there to be a public wedding with feasting and music and pomp and all that rubbish, but the heart of it, the commitment, the link between myself and Arynne, all that will be bound up by the heartbond. Once we’re tied in that way, there’s no going back.”
“Are you ready for that?” Kay searched his brother’s face.
“For marriage? I guess. I mean, I haven’t had a chance to get to know Arynne, so I can’t say that I love her, but what little I do know about her, I admire.” Olyn plopped down on the bed with his head in his hands. “I can learn to love her, can’t I?”
Kay chewed his bottom lip. For him, love had come naturally, without any attempt. Unbidden and unexpected but also undeniable. Still, this wasn’t about him. “That’s what they say.”
“Yeah, well, I hope they’re right.” Olyn scoffed.
Kay eased onto the bed beside Olyn and clapped his shoulder. “She’s beautiful and smart and fiery. You’re not going to find a better bride, not if you looked for a thousand starcycles. She’ll make you happy. I wouldn’t have ... I wouldn’t have brought her to you if I didn’t fully believe she could make you happy.”
“I know.” Olyn sighed. “It’s not Arynne I’m worried about. It’s me. I hope I can be a good husband ... a good father at some point.”
“You will.” Kay’s insides squirmed. He wanted to run, to scream at the unfairness of loving a woman he couldn’t marry while watching his brother marry the same woman but seemingly not love her. Unfortunately, some things just couldn’t be fled. “I’ll put off my departure by a few moonnotches. I’m not sure what difference me standing at the edge of the room will make, but I’ll be there.”
“It’ll make all the difference in the world!” Olyn’s head popped back up, grinning.
Kay forced a smile. The ceremony would be awkward, especially since he’d already told Arynne he wouldn’t be there. He needed to talk to her, if only so she wasn’t blindsided. If only to have her understand.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I think I’ve finally concocted the proper blends of oils to make your hair shine!” Sigid grinned. She rubbed a sweet smelling liquid through Arynne’s curls as the princess sat before her vanity table. “Plus it’s perfumed!” She leaned closer to Arynne’s ear and said in a conspiratorial whisper. “A nice surprise for our prince, when he’s getting to know you as his bride, if you know what I mean.” Sigid winked. “Do I even need to bother turning down your bed for you this dimming?”
Arynne’s cheeks warmed. “Actually, sleeping arrangements stay the same. Olyn and I won’t be living as husband and wife until after the actual wedding. This brightening is just the heartbonding ceremony.”
Sigid’s brow furrowed. “But why not? The wedding is merely a formality once the heartbond is in place.”
“Maybe I like formality.” Arynne tapped her fingers against the vanity’s top.
“I like formality as much as any woman—but not as much as a pair of good shoulders and a set of flashing blue eyes.”
Heat rushed through Arynne’s core at the memory of Kay’s eyes. “Well, it’s my only marriage. I want to do things right.” Arynne stood. She still wore the soft white sleeping-gown she’d worn every dimming, as well as her woolen stockings. Even with that protection, her skin prickled from the cool air. “We don’t have long until the ceremony. I should get dressed.”
Sigid’s eyes brightened. “Oh! I have a surprise for you.” She bustled out of the room and returned carrying a bundle wrapped in white cloth tied with string. “I had to ask the Lady Vondra for this—she kept it after her sister died.”
Arynne tilted her head to one side. “Her sister meaning Olyn’s mother?”
“Uh-huh!” Sigid nodded, her face beaming. “Unwrap it.”
Taking the package, Arynne slipped off the string. The bundle immediately unraveled, spilling out in a waterfall of silver silk. Arynne’s breath left her. “It’s lovely.” She ran her fingers over the cool, slick fabric. “Was it hers?”
“Yes. I thought it would be a nice picture, you wearing his mother’s gown.”
“He doesn’t really remember her, though.” Arynne hardened her mouth, refusing to be sentimental when she needed most to be strong.
“I suppose not, but you’ll still look lovely.” Sigid touched Arynne’s hair. “I’ll let you change, but my instinct is that we need something for your hair to finish the look. Make you a pretty package with a bow on top for your prince to unwrap.” She winked again. “If you know—”
“I know what you mean.” Arynne frowned. The thought of making love to Olyn, allowing him to embrace her, caress her, when all she could think about was how much she wanted for him to be his brother, not himself, terrified her. How would she be able to pretend? To show affection? A shudder cut through her.
Sigid stepped back, her brow furrowing. “Are you cold?”
“A little,” Arynne replied, which wasn’t quite a lie.
Sigid nodded. “While you get dressed, I’ll go fetch you some mint tea. Warm you right up until you get a chance to wrap your prince’s arm about you.” She slapped Arynne’s shoulder.
Arynne recoiled, unused to the familiarity, but Sigid’s affable manner made it impossible to be put out at her. She smiled. “Mint tea sounds like an excellent idea.”
Once Sigid left, Arynne finished dressing and left the washing room for her sitting room. After taking a moment to rub Sol’s ears as he napped on his perch, she walked to the little couch before the hearth, but did not sit. Instead, she stood before the fire considering the long, flowing sleeves and layers of silver fabric, so different from the light airy gowns of Solea. Still, she did feel beautiful in the gown that shimmered like moonlight on snow. It contrasted strikingly with the dark, rich tones of her skin. She touched her hair. It had grown healthier under Sigid’s care, but she was still unused to the way her unbraided curls radiated from her head, so different from the close, controlled plaits of her braids. Perhaps Sigid was right and some hairpins or a circlet would put a flourish on her image, but Arynne rather wanted to let it be free.
Someone tapped on the door. Was Sigid back already?
“You can come in,” she called.
The door opened, and a tall shadow loomed over her. Familiar magic stirred the air, and she spun to face him.
“You look—like a bride.” Kay smiled sadly. “That dress suits you.”
She swallowed. He seemed subdued, quieter than usual, his eyes void of their characteristic mischief. “Sigid said it used to be your mother’s.”
His eyes widened, then he nodded. “Olyn will appreciate that.”
She couldn’t return his gaze. Her resolve to bond with his brother already felt as fragile as frost crystals. Seeing him,
hours before the ceremony, threatened to undo her.
With a quiet coo, Sol jumped off his perch and came to circle both Kay and Arynne, rubbing up against their ankles. When neither bent to pet him, however, he flicked his tail and flew into the bedroom, probably to sulk on Arynne’s pillows.
Arynne cleared her throat, still avoiding Kay’s eyes. “I thought you were leaving to hunt grims in the wastes.”
“Blame Olyn for that.” He grimaced. “He talked me into being at the ceremony. Said he needed to have his brother there. I wanted to say no, but couldn’t explain why, so he wouldn’t accept it.”
“Yes, that would be—uncomfortable.” She shifted from foot to foot. “So why are you here now?”
He let out a long breath. “Partially to warn you that I’d be there. I’d hoped Olyn might mention it to you, so you wouldn’t be blindsided, but apparently he hasn’t.”
“We’ve both been distracted. King Evyd has been monopolizing his time so much that he’s barely had a chance to talk to me.”
“That sounds like Father.” Kay’s shoulders slumped. “He doesn’t despise Olyn the way he does me, but he thinks he owns him all the same.”
“He doesn’t treat either of you as he should.” They stood in awkward silence, Arynne focused on her feet for fear his eyes would capture her. She didn’t want to break down now. Not when she’d spent the last several moonnotches convincing herself that marrying Olyn was the best option for everyone involved. “You said warning me was partially why you were here,” she finally said when she could no longer stand the silence. “That implies there’s another reason?” She hazarded a glance up.
“Yes, well, I had something I wanted to say, but now—” He scratched at his beard. “Arynne—I’m sorry if I’ve been cold to you lately. Everything that happened was like a punch to the gut, and I’ve been wrestling with how to deal with that.”
“How to deal with me?” The words escaped her in a rasp.
“To put it bluntly.”
“I didn’t behave very well when I found out the truth.” She drew herself up taller. There was no shame in apologizing, and she wouldn’t let him see her as a sulky child any longer. “I’m sorry I tried to kiss you—and that I asked you to run away with me. I’ve seen how much you and Olyn care for each other since then. If I’d known that from the beginning, I never would’ve done anything that put you in that position.”