6. Keira

Chapter 6

Keira

M y teeth are bared as I stare at Finan, at the king, towering over both of them. My power still assaults the room, wave after wave of it crashing down on them like a physical force. It brings out the animal in me.

“I will not be threatened by this wisp of a girl!” The king stands and his heavy couch is pushed backyards, groaning against the floor.

“No one is threatening anyone.” My father growls, then looks at me pointedly.

I drop the instinctual magic and my hair crashes down onto my shoulders. Bits of it are smoldering, but the strands remain undamaged by the fire, like it is a part of me. The beast within still simmers, ready to bring out the teeth and claws again.

So much for not making the king feel as weak and pathetic as he is. For being sweet and desirable to lure the prince in with honey.

I am done with that.

“I make my own choices,” I snarl through gritted teeth. “This realm does not tolerate kings who force women into marriage - who deny them their right of a pilgrimage.”

The king shoots a furious stare at my father.

“Whoa. Okay. Everyone is in shock and angry.” My father holds both hands up. “Let’s calm things down and talk it through. Keira? Sweetheart? Please, take a seat.”

A couch flies across the room and scoops me up into it, as I am pushed with a fist of air from the other direction.

“I don’t think there is anything else we need to say to each other.” I bite out, turning to the man I thought loved me. “Unless, Prince Finan , you have something to tell me? Maybe more promises about how you will only ever want to marry me? How I am your soulmate? Already your queen?” I blink my lashes at him in a sickly sweet manner.

“I – ah…” Finan glances at his father and swallows. “I want to marry you . And I do love you, Keira. I tried to fight for you but?—”

“That is true enough. Damn fool of a boy.” King Willard chimes in and Finan flinches as though he expects to be struck.

Finan tentatively places himself on his couch again. “But I have my duty to consider.”

“Your duty?” I ask. “Your DUTY? Is my power not enough to satisfy your duty ?”

Beads of sweat form on his forehead and he opens his mouth.

“You know what?” I get up in a flurry of skirts. “I’ve heard enough of your lies for one night.” I turn and leave the study.

“Perhaps the youngest sister would be better for you, Finan. This one has too much fire in her soul.” The king’s barb follows me as I stalk out of the library.

My father follows with a retort, but I am too far away to hear it. He will have his hands full to repair the damage I have done tonight.

I run blindly through the corridors as I hold the pieces of myself together. A blade twists in my chest, but I won’t give any from the royal party the chance of seeing me undone.

By the time I enter the sanctuary of my rooms, I am a sobbing mess. My chest heaves as each cry racks through me. Hot tears stream down my face. I run my hands through my hair, then pull it with such force the pain kills all thought for a precious moment.

Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.

How could I have been such a naive little girl? Every single red flag I dismissed come crashing down on me. The lingering glances at other women. The fact we aren’t already married. Sex that is only focused on Finan’s pleasure and never mine. Every warning from a family member to guard my heart.

I curl up onto my bed like a child, cradling my head in my hands. The wetness of my tears run down my hands and arms. Each breath comes out in a gasping, choking scream that bounces around the room. My self-control has turned to dust.

What happened to that girl who had dreams? Who had ideas of her own? I have become nothing more than Finan’s lover. Being his future queen became my whole identity, and now that those foundations have crumbled, I don’t know what is left. Who I am anymore. I am utterly lost and it terrifies me.

I don’t register when my father enters my room, but I cry with complete abandon with my head in his lap while he strokes my hair. My mother speaks as she restlessly stalks the room, but I don’t know what she says.

The sobs end and much of the pain ebbs away with it. My eyes burn from the salt of all the shed tears, and are so swollen I can hardly see.

Gentle hands remove my ball gown and cox me into my nightshirt, and it isn’t until they tuck me into bed that I realize they belong to my mother. She could have called a servant, but she took care of me herself.

My last thought as I drift to sleep is that I will always have my family to protect me.

I spend a day locked in my chambers, mourning my old life and the blissful ignorance I had lived in, then I return to my duties. Finan came to my door multiple times, probably to fill my head with more empty promises. The first time my mother dismissed him, the second my maid sent him away and the third time I didn’t bother to answer the door and he left. His attempts were pathetic.

My maid laces up the front of my riding dress of navy wool, then pulls leather gloves onto my hands. “I can use powders and pigments to correct the rings under your eyes, m’lady. It is best not to show any weakness to the king…or that prince,” Anya says.

“Later.” I wave a hand. “Neither will be up for hours, and I’ll need a bath when I return. I’d hate to look like a wildling before them.”

It is time I take back the reins of my life.

The keep is still asleep as I make my way through it, the corridors faintly illuminated by a watery light as dawn arrives. The guards at the gatehouse of the inner wall are the only people I see as I step out into the courtyard.

They look frozen, and rub their hands over a fire in a small brazier that struggles to pick up. They greet me as I pass, and I smile and use my magic to give life to their fire, the coals suddenly flaring bright.

A thin layer of frost crunches under my boots as I cross over meadows surrounding the orchards and make my way to the Protector Guard’s training fields.

Shouts and clacking of wood on wood fills the air, as a circular arena comes into view. It has compacted grass, with archery targets and silhouettes of fabric and sand for hand combat techniques.

In its ring, Caitlin trains with the Caption of the Protector Guard. Both wear tight dark pants and long, emerald overcoats, split at the sides. It is the uniform of the female guards.

Gwyneth holds a thick pad braced on her chest and Caitlin lands high kicks into its center.

I stop to watch them.

“High. Right,” Gwyneth yells and Caitlin’s leg swings out and meets the pad as it moves to the captain's side, three times in fast succession. The force of those blows are substantial enough that Gwyneth’s body jolts each time she takes one.

“Center!” Gwyneth calls, pulling the pad to her front and Caitlin brings her leg up, bends it at the knee and thrusts it forward in a powerful move that is lightning-fast. Gwyneth staggers backward. “Again!”

Both women pant with sweat rolling down their faces as I finally approach the training field .

“You can’t train in that,” Caitlin says immediately, eyeing off the narrow skirts of my riding dress.

“I need to learn to fight in dresses. They are what I wear.”

My sister takes a long drink from a canteen. “Have the seamstress make you dresses with detachable skirts, like mine. You are right, we need to be trained to protect ourselves at all times, even at a feast. Maybe especially at a feast.”

“That is…ingenious,” I say.

Caitlin grunts. “Tomorrow you will come here in pants. You will train every day until the spring equinox when we make the crossing.”

My stomach rolls and the fire of anxiety rushes through all of my extremities.

“Did I make the wrong choice? I’ve hardly trained for the pilgrimage.” I run a hand across my face. “Gods, I told Finan I don’t know if I want to marry him. In front of the king!”

Caitlin takes my face in her hands and her small, green eyes narrow. “You made the right choice and you know it. You have been preparing for this crossing your entire life. Late night reading in the library to help me out. Hunts of fae in these woods to bring magic home. Honing your magic when you could have spent your days reading fiction and no one would have lifted an eyebrow.”

She lets out a long breath. “You have been suppressing how badly you want to travel to the Otherworld for years. Remember your dream of exploring and cataloguing their world? Of becoming a priestess and visiting every time our realms aligned? You lost that dream when Finan came into your life and you decided to live for his cause instead. You will find yourself on the pilgrimage. Work out the rest when you return.”

I nod, desperately trying to suppress the tears that threaten to spill.

“I’m glad you’re making Finan sweat.” Caitlin barks out a laugh. “Men like that pine harder for what they think they can’t have.”

“Thanks, Caitlin. This feels right, down to my bones, but I needed to hear it from you.” I take in a steadying breath, but my voice still trembles. “How long have you known? That they were considering you as well for Finan’s bride? ”

I feel dirty say it, like it is my shame.

“Officially, I found out when you did. But I had a feeling. We all did this last year, since my pilgrimage announcement. They have been far too interested in it.”

Tears roll down my face and I scrub them away angrily. “I'm sorry.” It is not enough. How it must have felt to have her sister’s lover encroaching on her. Somehow, Finan’s actions always seem to be my responsibility to manage.

“Finan doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve to be king. He is too stupid.” Caitlin spits.

“I know,” I half-whisper. “That is why I feel this crushing responsibility to become queen. They need a woman from our family, not only for our magic. We are educated, strong willed and outspoken. Someone needs to stop him from becoming a disaster as king. He doesn’t know how to rule a kingdom or lead an army.”

Caitlin nods. “The entire kingdom is not your responsibility. Strathia will survive without you. Anyway, there is nothing we can do about that right now.” She tosses me some padded gloves. “We are going to spar, and you are going to see how difficult hand-to-hand combat is in a dress, even if those skirts are split.”

Gwyneth calls us out on our technique as we land light kicks and punches on each other’s bodies. We pull any force from them, but each strike still smarts. Caitlin taps me on the jaw with a fist, then kicks the back of my knees, making them buckle.

“Keira, you’d be on the ground in a real fight,” Gwyneth bellows. “You need to work on that defense!”

We circle each other. I feign forward with a low blow to the ribs, then connect the other fist to her chin with enough strength to knock it up, then raise a knee to her stomach.

“Good, Keira. Caitlin, you’d be missing some teeth,” Gwyneth calls.

We spar until both of us are heaving messes, hair slick with sweat and plastered to our faces. I smile stupidly at Caitlin and she returns the expression.

“Tomorrow.” Caitlin holds up a hand as she sucks in more air. “Tomorrow we will meet at the indoor gym. So…” She focuses on br eathing again. “So we can do some proper flipping techniques on the mats.”

Gwyneth has me practice various kicks on a dummy of sand and fabric until I can hardly lift my legs, while she continues to train Caitlin with the pads. We both cool down with stretches to make sure we don’t pull a muscle, and by the time we finish, the rest of the Protector Guard arrive at the training grounds.

Exhilaration from the exercise flows through me. For the first time in years, I have a dream and it is for me alone.