3. Keira

Chapter 3

Keira

I don’t get to relax in the steaming hot water of my bath. The roots of my hair hurt as a maid pulls free the snarls from it. Another maid scrubs my skin with a brush until it turns pink and the water becomes tinged brown. A third meticulously cleans and files my fingernails, then my toenails.

I am being pulled in multiple directions at once, with hardly enough time to get ready for the king’s welcome reception. His entire entourage are currently cleaning up after their long journey, though I don’t expect any of them to have worked up a sweat, arriving in a convoy of slow carriages.

Fatigue crashes down on me as I stand completely naked before the bath, rivulets running down my still-flushed skin, as the maids remove my body hair by guiding sharp blades across my flesh, in the southern fashion. The tension seeps from me as soon as they are done and my bathrobe is thrown around my shoulders.

I hate this. I only do it for Finan.

I am always so afraid they will cut me. It has happened before.

When I sit at my vanity table with large bifold mirrors, a cup of coffee already waits for me and I take hurried sips of it between being fussed over by maids .

They apply oils to my hair until it shines gold and red in the sunlight that enters through the large window. It is coiled into loops on top of my head, with long tresses left free to cascade down my shoulders. Combs with green jewels are inserted into my hair, matching the garnets of my necklace and the mint velvet dress that clings to my ample curves.

I feel less like a wilding, clean and manicured after the hunt.

My footfalls echo through the long corridors of the keep, clicking on polished stone tiles and muted thuds on tapestry rugs.

Burning orbs of fire hang suspended along the ceiling, illuminating the spaces where other castles would have torches on brackets. The orbs create no smoke and a little heat, the combustion producing light in a completely isolated bubble, until the fuel of magic is consumed and they wink out.

The orbs are another of our magical exports.

We have retainers who are strong wielders of fire, making such technology possible for us, but the process is slow and limited. Further out in the kingdom it is rare to find someone with so much power.

I could almost laugh bitterly at the thought.

Creating a fire orb was once such a basic thing that anyone could do. I have read so many books in our personal library detailing the immense magic our ancestors once wielded.

Today, lighting a candle is the limit for most people’s fire magic.It is one of the reasons why Liam and Aiden are so heavily prized as Protector Guards with their ability to light their swords on fire. Anyone with that amount of magic are usually consumed by more important work than creating fire orbs.

I reach the antechamber of the small ballroom, and am greeted by the eruption of voices that leak out of it. Pausing a moment, I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

The wrestle of wits and assault of false niceties at these sorts of events sets my anxiety on edge. I don’t understand the need for all the twisted words that are petty insults dressed as compliments. Court intrigue will never be my strength .

The ballroom is filled with royal courtiers and minor nobles of our protectorate, clad in silks and brocades and jewels, moving around the room and buzzing with chatter like a hive of bees. There is enough gold to support the comparison, embroidered on cloth, fashioned into jewelry and adorning trimmings on the floral stucco artwork of the walls and ceiling.

I hardly take more than a handful of steps into the room when my mother grabs me by the elbow and pulls me away.

“I heard the prince intercepted you as you returned from the hunt. That you had leaves in your hair and mud on your face.” She nods to courtiers as they pass by with a disingenuous smile on her face. The few loose, blond curls at the top of her high hairdo bob as she moves.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I reply. “We were caught by surprise.”

My mother waves to someone at my back, mouthing a few words to them. Sharp intelligence fills her dark eyes as they turn back to me. “We will discuss the details tonight, after the feast. Assume we are in damage control and lay on him every charm you have today.” I nod and she raises her eyebrows. “Keira, I mean every charm. ”

“I know what you mean, mother.” I can’t help glancing at Finan.

She pats my shoulder. “Good. This family needs this marriage as much as you want it. You are twenty-four. I’m sure you’re eager for this marriage after all this wait.”

Despite her cheerful mask, the strain is clear in her features to me. The pinched and tight expression. The way her smile is held too wide and her attention darts around the room then back at me.

I open my mouth to tell her not to worry, but she grabs my hands.

“Do not tell a mother not to worry - I know you were thinking it - a mother can never stop. I would sleep better if you were betrothed. I will still worry when you are married, and when you are queen. Both are difficult things to navigate, especially with that family.” She says softly.

“Maeve my dear.” The Appleshield ambassador to the royal court appears at our side. “If I may have a discrete word with you?” He turns an apologetic glance to me, and they both move to a corner of the room .

I am a naive girl. I don’t belong with a prince, or for that matter in this room. If I could not see the repercussions of presenting slightly disheveled before the royal court when both Caitlin and Diarmuid did, how can I navigate the politics of the palace well enough to survive?

Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile. You have this. You will learn.

I square my shoulders and find Finan. He has a silver chalice in his hand, standing amongst people but somehow apart from them, taking in the room with a pout on his lips. Maybe he feels the same way I do. Courtiers talk around him, but he doesn’t pay them notice, not like his younger brother Niall, who works the room.

Finan’s eyes slide to mine and his thick lips curl into a slow smile. He takes my arm with a bejeweled hand and wraps it through his, the soft silk of his blue doublet brushing against my skin. There is lace at his neck and wrists and I wonder if it is the latest fashion in Sunbright City. It seems to move so quickly in the capital.

“Keira, you look exquisite.” Finan’s breath carries the scent of mulled wine.

“Father is not impressed.” Prince Niall joins us, addressing Finan.

It is uncanny how similar the two men look, the blue-black curls of their hair, the short, lean build of their stature, but where Finan is all charming stares and lazy grins, Niall has a sternness to him. The younger prince wears his hair short-cropped and doesn't follow his court’s fashions, opting for a style that is minimalistic and practical. No jewelry. No frills. Even his doublet is entirely black, with a discrete decoration of purple swirls in the brocade.

“Father is never impressed. What has set him off this time?” Finan waves a hand as though it is all very unimportant.

“It is the fruit here. All of the food actually. The harvest is losing its magic.” Niall’s expression is stone cold as he replies to his brother, but his gaze quickly flicks to me, assessing my reaction.

I raise my eyebrows and force a half-smile on my lips, despite how my heart thunders with painful palpitations. I half expect Niall to hear their crashing beat.

“I am sorry our food is not to his standard. Perhaps your chefs in the capital are more skilled than our own.” My tone is coy, playful. “What gave him the idea that our harvest is losing its magic? I assure you ours is imbued with the highest amount of magic in the kingdom.”

I stare at Niall, hoping my sweet words will be enough for him. I hardly notice Finan, who inspects his fingernails. We cannot afford for the royal family to discover our greatest secret. The one that could be our downfall. For a decade, we have done everything in our power to hide it from the rest of the kingdom.

“Yes, your lands will always have the highest magic in Strathia,” Niall’s tone is as though he explains it to a child. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t losing their magic along with every other province. That your harvest isn’t imbued with the amount of magic it once was. If my suspicions are correct, if the rest of the kingdom can no longer receive a top up on their magic by eating the fruit from your orchards, then the consequences would be dire. Many people would lose their meagre magic entirely.”

Niall’s blue eye locks onto mine and seems to unpack me, to see the lying fraud beneath. My mind reels, trying and failing to find the right words to distract him, to make him back down in his conviction. My family’s survival depends on it.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Niall.” Finan’s low tone cuts the tension. “The fruit is fine. I can see it glowing with magic from here.”

I use the excuse to scan the room for my parents, starting at the table of cakes, pastries and fruit platters. There is an iridescence radiating from the apples, oranges, grapes and strawberries, each letting out their own colored light across the table. Of course, our best samples were presented to the king.

Both of my parents are engaged in a conversation with the king, whose mouth moves rapidly, with a red flush creeping up his neck. My father runs a hand through his red hair, glancing multiple times at the same banquet table. My mother’s schooled face is the image of serenity, but her shoulders are held tight.

There is no need for me to inform them of the king’s dissatisfaction .

Ice settles within my stomach.

Niall’s razor-sharp attention is still honed on me. He pulls an apple out of his pocket and holds it. “The flesh of your apples don’t glow like they used to. As a child, Appleshield fruit was luminous. It shimmered like a jewel in sunlight. Now it shines like dull metal.”

The apple in his hand is indeed lackluster, its skin is almost white, with pale washes of green and reds. Worse, it is marred with small, brown dints. Dread grows within me.

“So you found a bad piece of fruit. So what?” Finan seems about to lose his temper at his brother, and I realize from his perspective, Niall is being quite rude.

“It hasn’t been unnaturally ripened by magic over the winter and it has signs of a slight blight, like a regular apple. This tells me Appleshield doesn’t have enough labor with skilled magic to tend all their orchards and crops. That not enough power is being put into some of the harvest.”

“Those are big observations from a single piece of fruit.” I shoot Finan a glance and laugh, hoping he will step in again. “Where did you get it from?”

“A servant picked it directly from the keep’s orchard. I had to know if something was happening to the fruit we receive in the Sunbright City while in transit, or if the problem is here.”

Damn. Damn. Damn. Not good.

My hands become clammy, but I can’t wipe them on my dress. I don’t dare let Niall see my nervousness. “It has been seven years since portals to the Otherworld have opened. Magic waxes and wanes. If there are minor issues, they will be corrected when the magical relics are brought back into our lands. We have had a particularly severe winter this year, so the magical needs for our orchards have doubled.”

These excuses were well planned and practiced by our family, only to be brought out at the most dire of situations. They are only a fraction of the truth.

Niall frowns deeply as he processes my excuses.

“Not to mention, we are only starting the season of feasts,” I say with a joyful tone. “Did you see the five Cú Sídhe we brought in from the hunt this morning? There will be many more.”

At the mention of the hunt, of my participation, Finan cringes, and I regret it immediately.

Niall gives me a searching stare, and I fear my lies and evasions will be undone under it. He takes a bite from the apple. “It doesn’t taste as sweet and crisp as it did when I was a kid.”

“Niall!” Finan rolls his eyes. “You are boring us with this talk of apples. So they aren’t as pretty. Who cares? Keira said they will be more to your liking next year.”

I laugh as though Finan told a clever joke.

Niall’s lips compress into a thin line. “Nevertheless, father has requested a tour of the orchards. We are going now and I think you should come, if you believe it would be interesting enough.” He turns and leaves, the muscles of his shoulders coiled tight.

Finan chuckles. “He is far too easy to goad. We’ll do an inventory of the orchards and test the magic of the staff. It’s not like there is anything more we can do about it.”

I nod and it takes all of my energy to keep that pleasant expression on my face.