by Lily Luchesi
Together, we quietly walked across the majestic beauty of the place, but no one else was around. I let Daniel hold me, knowing it was far more for my benefit than his. I felt warmer in his arms, surrounded by water than I did in the middle of my biggest rage, engulfed in flame.
When he'd come out of the dining hall, I'd plastered a fake smile on my face, but he was the only one who could ever turn those false acts into real ones.
"What's wrong, Cass?" Daniel pulled me down to one of the low gazebo benches. The entire place was lovely. Even the pattern of the nails connecting every wooden piece was beautiful.
"Everything." But even as the word flew from my mouth like an off-target arrow, I could not wish to take it back.
"I can imagine that being a very long list then." Daniel took my hand in his.
Our fingers were both rough, but they weren't the same. Daniel didn’t use fire magic. His hands were calloused from working fields along with his farmhands. Not because he thought he should, but because he loved that sort of thing.
It was at that moment I realized how cruel I was to him. He would never be happy in a castle or in a stinking town. He'd hate it even more than I would. He would hate it because he hadn't been trained for it his entire life.
How could I do that to him? I wondered. How could I do that to me?
Daniel had never even expected to be a Lord, but the last war had left us a lot of orphans, and a lot of childless parents, too.
"Want to talk about it?" Daniel asked, drawing small circles on the top of one hand. There was a shiny scar on there. Camden had burned it before we knew how to rein in our fire, when we used to just let it all burn. There were times like that, times like now, where I wished that was still possible.
"I don't know." I stared at our hands and admitted.
So many dreadful truths that I'd already glimpsed at, and the day was still so young. The sun hadn't even jutted over the low garden wall yet, and it wouldn't for some time.
"Maybe start from the beginning," Daniel prompted.
But that was an impossibility. I couldn't begin to guess where my story began, and where it bled into the stories of those who came before me.
I shook my head.
"Okay." Daniel didn’t harbor a hint of disapproval in his voice. I always wondered how he managed that.
It seemed everyone else who loved me was always very critical of me. Strangely, Bowen's face flashed behind my eyes then, but I shook the thought away. He'd been a good friend and was only that way when I needed him to be.
"How about you start with the last thing that happened? I interrupted something in the hallway just now—what was that about?"
If there was an accusation in those words, I could find none. No, Daniel was just as good as he always seemed to be. It was no act. I believed that was why every part of him could hurt me so much because I no longer knew how much of me was real. Perhaps none of it was.
"We ran into Lord Wellington on the stairs.” I paused for a moment. “He was assaulting my maid." My fingers curled into fists, but I kept the fire inside of them, even though Daniel was staring at me as though he could see them, anyway.
"And did Prince Camden give him a good tongue lashing?" Daniel asked as he plucked a red blossom from a flowering vine.
I nodded my head. Of course he had.
"Well, let us hope it resonates with Lord Worm, shall we?" Daniel smiled. It was so odd to hear him say a negative word about anyone, but I knew there was some things he didn’t abide.
"I'm pretty sure it was the punching him that actually got his attention, though."
"You know I don't really enjoy violence..." Daniel trailed off.
Which was true enough, but also a conundrum because he liked me, and I was violence incarnate. More so than I even wanted to be.
"Some men only respond to those sorts of things," he added.
If he'd spent any time on the battlefield, he'd have learned that lesson quite a long time ago, but I was glad he never had.
Daniel tucked his flower into my braid. Then he ran his fingers down my neck as if I was made of precious silk he was afraid to touch. "I'm glad I got to see you before I have to leave."
His voice was so sad, it took a moment for me to understand what he was saying. Daniel was leaving, which he was prone to doing, but his tone told me that he wasn't planning on coming back, not for a while at least. I'd grown used to having him here when I returned from campaigns. I'd have to learn how to endure the nightmares on my own, it seemed.
"Where are you going?" I heard myself ask. I was unsure where that thought had come from, it was a good one, important even, but I was too busy ripping myself up on the inside to even process what he was saying.
"Back to Greenwich."
Greenwich was the province where all his precious farmland was, and I bit down on the inside of both my cheeks to keep from asking if he loved that land more than he loved me. Not because I was ashamed of that hot jealousy, but because I knew it was likely true.
Daniel saw something in my face, however, and pulled my chin up until we were mere inches apart.
Kiss me, I tried to command, but he wouldn't do it. He never did.
"We're at war, Cass," he said, as if I didn't know. If I hadn't been making it in fields of my very own. "We need every scrap of food we can get. Likely our trade routes will all be cut off from the south if the fighting lasts through the winter."
So, Daniel was going back to make sure the Fire Kingdom survived in a different way than I did.
He was gone by noon.
Chapter 6
I considered taking the noon meal in my room, but it seemed an awfully far distance to travel just to mope. Then if Whitney found out I hadn't eaten, she'd want to work, and I wasn’t prepared to let her do that. Not yet. Hopefully, she was still exactly where I wanted her to be.
The dining hall was somber. Half the council, the half I detested the most, sat at the other end of the table from me hissing together in low tones. Once or twice, they tossed accusatory glances in my direction whenever they thought I wasn't looking. I took a sick satisfaction in the realization that the whole side of Wellington's face was red and swollen, where Camden had struck him that morning. I had no idea where Cam had run off to since sending me away with Daniel, but I could have used his company. Neither of my grandparents came in for the meal, either, and I was worse than alone. I was with people who hated me as much as I hated them.
Every council member had chambers inside the castle when they were in session. Servants were provided for them, and they weren't even housed near each other. Yet, as they fled the dining room, it was apparent to me, they were all heading the same direction. Like a pack of well-bred dogs searching for a bone.
I made a show of letting them go, but after a respectable amount of time, I headed after them. They hadn’t gone far.
Wellington must have learned his lesson about the landings, because the lords were all tucked in a little nook off a sitting area on the first floor. Lucky for me, their sniveling voices carried.
"King Charles is as good as dead," someone said.
I was thankful the banister my hand was wrapped around was made of stone. That the kingdom had long since learned that we were likely to explode and made most structures out of things that could withstand fire in the city. Not like those new country homes, which were all made of smooth wood. That was asking for trouble.
"He's old." Someone sighed. "His mind has been going for some time."
"Well, if you ask me,” Lord Wellington said, though no one had, "he never had much of a mind to begin with. His children were both spoiled upstarts, and so are their children."
My fire wanted to make that evil man nothing more than a pyre, but I reined it in. I couldn't allow my magic to come forth—that would certainly give me away.
"The boy is a brute, and the girl showed promise if she'd only have consented to be a proper monarch," another voice added.
"If she had married Bowen
," the councilmember continued, "we might have held sway."
I recoiled. That could not be true. Bowen was many things, but he wasn't in with these men any more than he absolutely had to be.
"Please," someone countered. "Bowen might be the one person in the entire kingdom who is even harder to control than she is. What a pair they'd have been—we should be counting our blessings."
Someone slammed a door just above my head. I knew all eyes were darting my way, and though I knew I was hidden from sight, I wasn't sure if I was protected from magic. I couldn't be certain what powers the council members possessed, even if many of them were well past their prime.
I held my breath and willed myself further into the shadows, but I was spared by another voice.
"Gentlemen." Bowen's voice was cutting. "I wasn't aware we were having a council meeting in the smoker's lounge."
I suspected that Bowen had teleported right in the midst of them. What a shock that must have been. It made me curious if he had known how close I'd been to being discovered. I didn’t intend to wait around and find out, and yet...
"I'm surprised to see you, Bowen. You must have just missed our summons. I sent two notes: one to you, the other to the monarchy. The Flame Bringer army rides for the north."
My heart was thundering in my chest at my near-miss already, but it damn near fell out of the sky at those words.
They were sending us out again? The Flame Bringers hadn't been back even a full day. This was madness. Someone was speaking too low for me to hear. I was beginning to wonder if they were choosing a future ruler based on which of us they could kill first. All while making sure the rest of the world hated us more than it already did. If such a thing was even possible.
"Well, I hope you have managed to round up more than a few country boys for us to slaughter this trip, Wellington. I'd hate to have the last battle repeat itself. Of course, Camden knows to keep all your men away from open flame at this point..."
I couldn't hear what he said after that, but Wellington growled.
"Is that a threat?" Lord Wellington shouted. Brave of him, as he was already roughed up.
"I don't make threats, Wellington, but I am rather fond of revenge."
I began my descent down the stairs. If I tried to escape up the steps, I had no doubt everyone would be wise to my eavesdropping. They'd all gone so silent that a pin could have dropped on the stone floor, and they'd have caught the echo two flights up. I was more than a little surprised to see Bowen still standing there. He was somewhat prone to using that unique ability of his to leave in a huff, but he'd have known that I was just out of eyesight. He wouldn't have had to see me to know I was there.
"Princess," Bowen said, with more of a bow and a flourish than I suppose he'd ever given me. It was a dare, and all the other lords followed his lead. "I assume you've heard that the Flame Bringer army is to ride again?"
He knew what I heard, but I morphed my face into a mask of shock.
"They haven't even been back a day. I suppose they found us a real threat to handle this time? No more children playing at being soldiers?"
Wellington wanted to light me on fire with his gaze, and he could damn well try. I was certain he worried I'd reveal his earlier conduct—it was funny he thought any of them would care. They were awful, terrible. Sometimes I'd exclude Bowen from that list, and other times I'd lead with him. At least he was loyal to us, no matter what I did to him.
Thinking that perhaps I should put my name on that terrible list as well. "Shall we?"
Bowen took my arm, and we walked down the corridor as if we weren't heading back into war.
Three hallways down, and Bowen finally decided to speak again. I was worried he'd slipped into one of those moods where all he wanted was to read books in strange tongues and mope about. "Did they say anything exciting before I arrived?"
He was serious, so it must have been sheer luck that he'd saved me from being discovered.
It wouldn't have been the first time.
I released his arm and stopped in the middle of a hallway. Two maids saw us there and smartly found somewhere else to be. "They said my grandfather was as good as dead, and that both Cam and I were terrible successors. Though, they must have forgotten that I’m not an option—"
"One of the council members has petitioned to allow a female heir." Bowen chose not to meet my gaze again.
"You're certain of this?" I wasn't sure if it mattered as I asked the question. Camden would be a great king—it changed nothing.
"I'm certain." He dipped his head further, before snapping his neck back, and said, "It was me."
I recoiled. "Why?"
I could have seen some of the other men doing it. They'd perhaps, at one time, fooled themselves into believing, that as a woman, I'd be easier to control, but they'd rightly moved past that.
"A long time ago?" I breathed.
That might have made sense if Bowen had any real ambition. He didn't, but if he had thought that perhaps he'd end up King... no, there was not a realm where Bowen would ever be okay with that idea.
He shook his head before turning his back to me. I knew what he was about to tell me was dreadful. Bowen was more comfortable to read than all those books he liked to carry around.
"You know, Camden is one of my very best friends..." He trailed off.
I did know that. I remembered being quite jealous of it. "Save it." I grabbed his sleeve. "It doesn't matter. Cam is going to be King. We are going to win this war as much as anyone ever wins a war. Then we're all going to try our best at being happy. All until some other kingdom wants to wipe us off the map... even you."
Bowen didn’t seem convinced. He was never precisely the happy sort, except when we... he'd just have to find some other woman to make him feel like that. It couldn't be me, not anymore.
"I will see you in the war room," Bowen said. But by the time I'd calmed Whitney and packed, Camden and Bowen were already on the saddle.
"I assume this means they've found us a real threat." I mounted my horse, one where haste would be required. The beast pricked its ears back, waiting for the call to run.
"Soldiers are crossing the northern border now, headed this way." Camden appeared a bit like a burnt-out cinder.
"To the capital?" I said as the troops began moving out. "That's madness."
"That's what we were told," Bowen confirmed. "Should I scout ahead?"
"No," Camden and I said in unison. The ground quaked under so many hooves.
"We arrive together or not at all.” Camden charged to the front.
We rode for a day before making camp, and we were still at least another day’s ride away from our best guess as to where the invaders would have traveled. With poor intel, they could be anywhere. The terrain here was barren and rocky. There were no trees but short clutching spindles. There were no weeds, only tumbleweeds, as they rolled on reaching. The sunset was a fiery-red orange, which we considered a good omen, but I couldn't make the positive mood of the soldiers fill the dread that seemed to grow in my chest.
I had my own tent, but I didn’t pitch it. I declined every offer of help and dozed on and off propped against a large rock with one flat side. The sky was so vast in this part of the world that I felt as though it could crush me if I kept my eyes closed too long.
It was one of those rough stretches of sleep, when soldiers from the Water Kingdom attacked.
Chapter 7
They slaughtered the horses first—no, not slaughtered, drowned. The noise they made was horrible, and I could not burn off the water fast enough to save a single one of them.
Camden had stormed from his own tent, shirtless, bootless, and blade blazing. He scanned the crowd, as they sprung away and started the messiest battle I'd ever seen. We were disorganized, our intel had been so wrong, that I could only assume it had been that way on purpose. When Camden's gaze finally met mine, a half-mad smile grew on his face like that of an eclipsing moon. In a moment, it was gone, and I'd almost forgotte
n what it had looked like. But in the darkness, I felt we were surely doomed.
I didn’t need armor or a sword, I could forge both from nothing but my fire alone, and they'd never failed me. My other things had been strapped to my damn horse.
I lost Camden in the chaos, and I hadn't known where Bowen was when the battle had begun. I downed six men in a sparking ring around my body without even raising a hand, and the ones behind them slid back. Some were even cowardly enough to go searching for an easier target.
With my arms crossed, I formed twin knives, one in each palm, and slew anyone who dared get near. With weapons made of flame, the enemy did not even bleed in death.
Oh, but how they died.
They fell and fell until there were no men anywhere within my striking distance without our emblem ablaze across their arms or chest. The battlefield was filled with a familiar stench of burning flesh. I'd just started thinking we'd claim victory from this attack. That we'd managed to kindle a fire from a few hot ashes, but a cold voice spoke to me.
"It's nice to see you again, Princess," the man said.
It took a moment longer than it should for his name to return to me. So did the sharpness of my tongue. "Hello, Prince Loren." I tossed a knife straight for his stupid smirking face.
He washed it away with a watery wave of one hand. I hadn't believed it would harm him, but a lady could hope.
"Even with an ambush, none of your soldiers will leave this clearing alive," I told the prince. I didn't want to think of how many of ours wouldn't leave here, either. I'd grieve later.
"A calculated sacrifice." He sent a wave of water in my direction.
It did little good, the air around me was so hot it evaporated before impact. The prince was bluffing, he had to be. I’d bet he believed it was an excellent strategy to attack sleeping men in the night. I was sure he felt robbed of his shallow victory and ached deeply below the stupid grin.
I grasped my second knife and cloaked myself in crimson-flamed armor. The battle around us turned gravely still, as I extended my arm into a long blade made of nothing but fire and moonless night.