by Emma Hamm
The Earthen folk were staring at her, but not because they could see her face. They likely hadn’t seen a Beastkin change before. That didn’t mean she needed to indulge in answering their questions or explain how it was possible.
They didn’t get to ask questions like that. They didn’t get to try and touch or tame her.
Footsteps rattled through the courtyard as armored boots raced down the stairs toward her.
“Ah, yes,” she muttered under her breath and straightened. “Hallmar’s personal guard still thinks I’m here to burn the whole place down.”
“Some things don’t change,” Camilla replied. A grin split her face with a bright happiness that Sigrid didn’t understand. How was it possible for her friend to feel so at ease here when so many ghosts roamed around them?
Hallmar strode behind his guards, impeccably dressed as always. He was a handsome man in his youth, and that had carried over as he aged like a fine wine. The stern look on his face was both intimidating and reassuring.
The emerald green of his velvet tunic was accented by golden threads embroidered in swirling patterns across the entirety of the jacket. A plain white shirt was open at the throat, revealing an amulet of blue quartz that eerily looked like ice. That was new. Or perhaps, he only wore it when he was welcoming important guests.
She wouldn’t know.
He lifted his arms in greeting and smiled at the two of them. “Ladies! Welcome home.”
And damned if she hadn’t been waiting for those words. Sigrid wanted to run into his arms as she would have as a child, feel the strength in them as they closed around her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest.
He’d always made her feel so safe when he hugged her like that. As if he could take the weight of the world from her, all her worries and fears, and place them somewhere else as long as she was in his arms.
But Sigrid wasn’t a child anymore. She was a queen of her own kingdom, a rival kingdom at that, and she couldn’t break that vow to her people by welcoming him as an old friend.
She swallowed hard, touched a finger to the edge of her mask to make sure it was still in place and nodded. “Thank you for the welcome. I wasn’t expecting a messenger from you any time soon.”
“And I wasn’t expecting to have a war on my doorstep.” He let his arms drop to his sides, one hand at his hip. She remembered he used to hide a wicked, curved blade in his pant leg. Had he brought a weapon to speak with her? As if she would ever attack him? “But this is still your home, Sigrid. If you ever have need of it.”
Camilla cocked her hip out to the side, raised a hand, and said, “I’m standing right here.”
His booming laugh filled the courtyard like sunlight after a storm. “I have missed your humor, Camilla. You are always welcome as well.”
“I know.” She flicked the ends of her braids over one shoulder and winked at him. “I just wanted to hear you say it one more time.”
This was how it had been, before the king thought it would be better for Sigrid to be married. Before an arrow had silenced a good man forever. Before the world had changed and a dragon had awoken in her soul.
She was grateful for the mask, because Sigrid couldn’t have hidden her crestfallen expression if she tried. “Shall we?” she asked.
“Ah, yes,” Hallmar replied, sweeping his arm out for them to follow him into the castle. “A little privacy after such a long trip would be greatly appreciated, I’m sure. Come with me, ladies.”
Sigrid didn’t correct him that they were to be given more respectful names now. She didn’t know what the Beastkin wanted to be called. Matriarch would have been correct long ago, but now there was a council of Beastkin making decisions, and they tried to throw their weight around no matter what she wanted to do.
Sometimes, it felt as though her council fought with her just because she had voiced an opinion. Anything she wanted to do, they wanted to do the exact opposite. It was like dealing with children at times. And she hadn’t signed up to be a mother.
She followed Hallmar into the castle and breathed out a sigh. Relaxation flooded through her veins at finally being in a place that was more familiar to her than the back of her hand. She knew every hidden corridor, every guard’s favorite napping place, and every leaf that would fall through the windows from old trees that peaked in to see what the humans were doing.
This place had been her childhood.
Ducking her head as they walked past a servant, she tried to tell herself that this was different now. She wouldn’t be able to act as she had before. Certainly, she’d always been the leader of the Beastkin. But there hadn’t been any power in the name.
Matriarch’s came and went. They advised the king on what their people wanted, but they didn’t have a choice in what the kingdom did. Their role was to take care of their people, which hadn’t changed. But now she had a castle, a war, an army…
Her mind was whirling. What did he want from them? What would he ask for that she wasn’t going to be able to give?
How did she say no to the man who had helped raise her?
A hand slipped into hers, strong fingers squeezing in encouragement. Sigrid glanced over at Camilla, freely without her mask, easy-going and so confident it made Sigrid’s heart clench.
Her sister smiled. “Everything will be fine.”
“I just want to get this over with.”
“I don’t think he wants to wait.” Camilla nodded ahead of them. “He’s taking us to his private quarters. That means no one else is involved but us. Sounds like he’s going to ask a favor.”
“One I won’t be able to give.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
Sigrid snorted. “The Beastkin are many things, but forgiving they are not. Even our own sisters want to see this place torn down stone by stone. They aren’t going to help the Earthen folk.”
“I think you judge them too harshly. They’re angry right now, and they have a right to be. But they haven’t suddenly become heartless.”
It was the reminder Sigrid needed. Her people, although animalistic by nature, still saw the good in people. She should trust them to do the right thing when the opportunity arose.
Blowing out a breath, she nodded and squeezed Camilla’s hand in return. “Thank you. You always seem to have the answer I’m looking for.”
“Your head is so far in the sky; I can’t even imagine what you see up there. I’m happy to give you perspective from the ground level.” Camilla winked. “Or remind you when your head is getting too large, Matriarch.”
Laughing together, they entered Hallmar’s private chambers. The room was exactly as she remembered it. Warm, cozy, and filled with earth-tones that immediately set her at ease.
A large fireplace was inlaid in the wall. Cracking logs burned low. Embers scattered around them. Furs covered the four seats around a small table where someone had set tea and scones, while a thick tapestry hid the four poster bed from their sight.
Sigrid couldn’t remember Hallmar ever having someone who stayed in the room with him. He’d always been a king who ruled without a queen. Never entertained those who would have spent a night with him, as far as Sigrid knew.
The man in question strode to one of the chairs with antlers for a back, and poured himself a cup of tea. “Would you like one? I’m afraid I don’t remember how you take your tea.”
Camilla opened her mouth to direct him, but Sigrid couldn’t stand the sight.
She let out a frustrated sound, then took the teapot from Hallmar’s grasp.
“That’s hot—” he began, then shook his head with a laugh. “I forget so easily.”
Sigrid cupped the base of the teapot with her bare hand. It was likely hot and filled with boiling water, but that wasn’t something which could stop her. Her lips twisted into a wry grin, one he couldn’t see, and then she began to pour them all tea.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been here, and I’m certain there are more important things for you to do t
han think about the days when we roamed your halls.”
“But I have been thinking about it a great deal,” he replied. “This castle is far too quiet without your people. I regret to say that I miss them, even though I know you’re creating a life for yourself.”
Camilla dropped into one of the chairs, legs sweeping up over the arm as she dramatically hung off the other. “Why did you let us go so easily, anyway? The Beastkin have always been something of a security for you. And you just… let us go?”
“When a full-grown dragon lands in your castle yard demanding something of you, there isn’t much choice.” But his voice was filled with humor. He blew on his teacup and tried a sip before responding. “The Beastkin have always been a temporary addition to the castle. I knew this from the first moment I became king.”
Sigrid poured herself a cup and sank down gently next to him. “You were the first king to think that then.”
“Perhaps. My father always thought that a war would come from Bymere, and that we would need to use your people to protect ourselves. I thought it too cruel for a king to order people to fight for him when those people weren’t part of our kingdom at all.”
“Perhaps,” Sigrid mimicked his response. “But our kind was forced to fight before, and no one felt any regret.”
“No, I suppose they didn’t.” He lifted the tea to his lips and fell into a comfortable silence.
She’d missed this. Hallmar had been the one to first teach her about proper etiquette. He advised on how to hold her teacup, how to pour the tea in a way that wouldn’t insult anyone, even how to sit so that she was still viewed as demure but also powerful.
He hadn’t ever made her feel as though she were a pet. Perhaps that’s why she managed to capture so much time with him as a child. He’d always taken the time to make her feel like a person. To respect her as so few others did.
She sighed and put her teacup on its saucer. “I’m afraid we don’t have a lot of time for niceties, Your Majesty.”
“Please. You’ve long past earned the right to call me by name.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. “Hallmar will suit just fine.”
“You’ve always called me Sigrid, so I cannot return the favor.”
“You could take off your mask.” He watched her with an intense stare that made her sweat. “I haven’t seen your face in a very long time, dragon. So long ago you likely don’t remember me even seeing it.”
“I don’t.”
“All the other Beastkin I’ve seen no longer wear their masks. The Bymerians never did in the first place. Why do you?”
She didn’t have a good answer for that. She didn't want to wear it, not really. It still felt stifling, and it was physically uncomfortable to place on her skin. But she also didn’t want to lose the armor that covered her face. For some reason, she was far more nervous to have people see that than anything else.
With a sigh, Sigrid reached up and unhooked the pieces in her hair that held the mask in place. Gently, she tugged it away and set it on her lap. Looking back at Hallmar, she steeled herself for what he would think.
His gaze softened, his lips curved into a smile, and his shoulders relaxed. “You look like your mother.”
“You saw her without her mask?”
“There are still a great many things you don’t know, Sigrid. Some things I will tell you. Others, you need to find out for yourself.” He shook his head. “But you could be her if I didn’t know she was put in the ground long ago. From your forehead to your chin, there’s not an ounce of you that doesn’t look like her.”
The words heated in her chest with pride. “Why did you call us here, Hallmar?”
The relaxed expression wiped off his face immediately. “There’s going to be a war, which you know already. I’m going to Bymere myself to see if I can stop it, but I don’t have high hopes for that.”
“You’re going to Bymere?” she repeated. “They’ll kill you on sight.”
“Maybe. But that is a risk I have to take for this kingdom. Wildewyn cannot fight without the Beastkin, and the Beastkin are no longer part of my kingdom.”
“Then we will fight.” Sigrid ignored the breath Camilla sucked in.
“I won’t ask that of your people. Not after everything they’ve fought for. This Earthen King will give your people a chance to start.” He waved a hand in the air. “Besides, that piece of land has been rotting for ages. If you can make it into something better, then perhaps someday we’ll find a way to trade.”
She eyed him, thoughts whirling in her mind. Was there any reason for him not to command them to fight? Not that she could think of. Hallmar was well within his right to be asking favors, and yet, he wasn’t.
“Why aren’t you asking us to fight?” she finally voiced the most pressing question. “Honestly, please. I don’t care about the politics nor do I wish to read between your words. Tell me plainly, Hallmar.”
He sighed, leaned forward, and braced his forearms on his knees. “If you haven’t figured out why yet, Sigrid, then I won’t explain it yet. Go back to your people. Tell them that a war is coming, and if they wish to fight, I will not stop them. But I will not ask, nor will I dictate what you or your people do. I asked you here to warn you that there will be Bymerians coming to our doorstep if I don’t try and stop them.”
“Then I should go with you.”
At that, Camilla’s feet fell off the arm of her chair and thumped hard on the ground. “No, you won’t.”
“The Beastkin have many more leaders than just me.”
“But you are the symbol of their freedom, not to mention the dragon that just attacked Bymere. You think they’ll kill him on sight?” She pointed at Hallmar. “They’d hang you in the square and set your body on fire, Sigrid.”
“A dragon cannot burn.”
“It can if it’s dead.” Camilla reached for Sigrid’s hand, squeezing it tightly between her own. “I share your worry for him, but we are not just Beastkin anymore. We have a kingdom, people, and a responsibility to keep them safe. That is why he is risking his life, and that is why I cannot let you do the same.”
Sigrid stared into Camilla’s dark eyes and wished for a different life so violently it made her flinch. She didn’t want to be the queen of the Beastkin. She didn’t want to be anyone but Sigrid for once in her life.
Still, her sister was right.
Nodding, Sigrid looked back to Hallmar. “Fine. Go, and let us know when you return. I’d like a full report on Bymere. It’s best to know our enemies well before we are attacked.”
He shrugged. “I think you have more information in that regard than I do. Living amongst them will help, but having Bymerians under your care… You and your people are significantly more prepared than we are.”
And the Beastkin wouldn’t even assist in protecting those who had protected them for so long. The truth stung, but Sigrid knew she wasn’t wrong.
“I will try,” she whispered. “But I cannot promise we will help.”
“That is all I can ask of you.”
Their conversation complete, Sigrid hesitated for a brief moment. She almost wanted to stay for a little while longer. The promise of warmth and civilized conversation was more tempting than returning to the madness of the Beastkin home.
And yet, she knew she couldn’t stay. This was a gilded cage for her people; no matter how much the king had enjoyed their company. She must leave and do something more than revert back to the old ways that, although broken, had been comfortable to her.
She stood and nodded gracefully. “Until I see you again.”
“I hope we do, dragoness.”
It felt too final, this meeting of theirs. She didn’t want it to be the last they had together, but had a feeling he thought it was. That was why he brought her here.
Of all times, she didn’t want to lose him just yet.
Blowing out a breath, Sigrid nodded and left his private quarters. Camilla’s footsteps trailed behind her, but she barely registered that her f
riend was following her.
Mind whirling, she raced through the halls of her childhood. Her pace was quick, but still respectable if anyone was to see her as she walked by them. They would say she looked like a woman on a mission. That the determination showed in the set of her shoulders and the cold gaze of her mask.
They wouldn’t see her expression of heartbreak and sadness. They wouldn’t understand her fingers were curled in fists, because she was barely holding herself together. Not that she was an honorable leader who was carefully keeping herself in check.
People scattered as she entered the courtyard. A woman grabbed her son’s arm and pointed at Sigrid while saying, “Watch, my love.”
They were making her a spectacle.
Again.
Camilla touched a hand to Sigrid’s shoulder and muttered, “Are you all right?”
No. She felt as though something in her soul had broken, and she didn’t know how to deal with these emotions. She wanted to scream and shout, to break something like a child in a temper tantrum. And then she wanted to run back into the castle and throw herself into Hallmar’s arms.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore. The only man who had been a father figure to her was about to risk his life with the man she loved.
One of them would likely end up dead. And her mind didn’t know which one she wanted to see come out of the bloodbath.
“We leave now,” she growled and changed so violently that Camilla was thrown to the ground.
Her sister scrambled back to her feet, reached out for the spines along Sigrid’s back, and threw herself onto the dragon right before she suddenly lifted into the air. Gusts from her wings made people run screaming, but she didn’t care if they were afraid of her. They should be. Wasn’t that what they wanted?
A monster who they could tell their children to be afraid of. A figurehead for how bad all the Beastkin were. A shield for her own people to hide behind.
She was overwhelmed. Wildly tossed against the rocks of her own mind until all she could think was that she wanted a few moments to herself. A few moments when her mind wasn’t screaming and she could finally think.