Chapter 2

S he'd never traveled before. Not far enough for it to count as traveling. She spent the greater part of her youth running gorgeous, overgrown hills behind the cabin—swimming in the river and crashing through small ponds and puddles. She climbed trees and looked out at the city as she swayed with the breeze.

But for the last two years, she was confined to the halls of the Silver Palace as a precaution. Word started to spread about her power and a rumor of uprising amongst what was left of the clans began to swirl. For the first year of her confinement, she thoroughly obeyed her father's demands. She took to reading and prided herself in the knowledge that she gained about the Three Clans, the fae, and Driikona as a whole. It was what her father was wanting to rebuild—the world before Caddagh invaded and nearly wiped their people off the map.

There were thousands of the fae left. Either burrowed in the mountains and hills or walking the streets of Holiadon. Though the Credulans tried to make it seem as if they did not exist, they did. She was one of them.

Kaya knew her significance to Holiadon was more than simply being a princess. For her birthright, bred into her bloodstream, was the Dark Bringer. One of three Kisses. One of three Blessings.

Three. Three. Three .

She oftentimes wondered where the hell the other two of those blessings hid themselves. If they even existed.

But instead of wandering down a path she frequently allowed her mind to follow on the dark and quiet nights she spent holed up in her guarded room, she surveyed the scenery.

The journey to G'Illach took them through the fresh ruins of Drikiera. The homestead that had been fortified to house the Banshee was now blackened and charred remains. It was sad to Kaya, to say the least. Her father told her Drikiera was once a beautiful village with gardens that nurtured the most beautiful blooms, with a landscape of rocky slopes in between small plateaus of land on which the Drikiera clan farmed.

She frowned at two largely-horned goats bleeting in the distance, the phantom bells that their previous owner placed around their neck jingling with each hungry movement.

This scenery was depressing, but within an hour, Kaya and Ilias crested the end of the path through Drikiera and began their descent toward G'Illach.

She could see smoke billowing from chimneys down below, the sun just starting to climb above the vast horizon of hills and pine. A stark contrast from the shriveled, lifeless tomb they just passed through.

Kaya let out a sigh, finally turning her attention to the man who had silently ridden alongside her for the past eight hours.

She wondered how one could be so silent—what he could possibly be thinking of to keep himself from dying of boredom. For herself, she tried to count the trees they passed, tried reciting books in her head, telling herself wonderful tales of heroism and adventure. It worked, for the most part, but now there was a bubble in her chest that ached to be released.

She needed to talk.

"Have you ever been to G'Illach?" She asked.

Ilias hummed, his bearded jaw going rigid. As if the sound of her voice stroked a particularly heinous nerve. She frowned.

"I've never left Holiadon." She continued, nonetheless. If he was going to be rude, the least he could do was listen to her. "And while this is certainly not what I imagined in terms of adventuring, it is quite nice to see a place that isn't gleaming with silver light. The natural light, the air—everything is just incredibly refreshing. But I assume you've traveled Galore enough to not be too enthusiastic or overjoyed about sitting on the butt of a horse for hours at a time. I've ridden horses before, but never to this ext— "

The guard jerked his head in her direction, his eyes narrowed at her in that all-too familiar way of his. Kaya snapped her mouth closed, that strange heat settling into her cheeks as she mimicked his stare.

"Am I not allowed to speak, Captain?" Kaya hissed.

Ilias was relentless in expressing his distaste for her, though she assumed it was well-earned. She'd been quite rude when they met. He loosened a breath, shaking his head as he looked away. "I don't care if you talk. Do as you wish, princess." He grumbled.

"Well," Kaya sighed, a small smile forming in place of her sneer. "If that is a command, then I must suggest we stop for a bit. I'm starving and have been holding in my piss—" Ilias looked at her then, his brow arched and something akin to an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I need to relieve myself."

Ilias gave a curt nod, immediately pulling at Fury's reigns, drawing her to stop. He watched as Kaya nearly flung herself from the back of her horse, stumbling slightly as she ran behind a bush. He pretended not to hear anything, but when Kaya let out a relieved sigh, he couldn't stop the chuckle that formed in his chest.

"Stop laughing!" From where he sat, he could just see the top of her head behind the shrub, could see her eyes narrowed in his direction as she finished and rose to her feet again. "Such a childish thing to do." She grumbled. "Laughing at someone for something that comes naturally to us all."

By the time she made it back to her mare, Ilias already dismounted and was unraveling dried meat and bread wrapped in parchment. He handed it to her, watching closely as she brought the food up to her face and sniffed.

It didn't smell horrible. And Kaya was famished.

"You are one peculiar princess." Ilias didn't realize he had spoken, but the words came fumbling out of his mouth in his broken dialect. Kaya stared at him, trying to decipher what he'd said and raised her shoulders in disregard.

"And I take it that you have spent time with countless other princesses before?" She hummed, frowning as bread crumbs tumbled down the front of her shirt. She batted them away. "Wish you brought jam or something. This is dry. "

He laughed again, shaking his head as he turned back to Fury. "I take back my previous statement. You're just as spoiled and entitled as the rest of them."

"Entitled?!" Kaya shrieked. "Every single person in Holiadon is supplied food. Good food. There are no beggars, there are none that go hungry. How could I be deemed entitled or spoiled under those conditions?"

Ilias shoved a jar of black jam into her chest, his face cold as stone as he looked at her. "You said it, yourself, that you've never left Holiadon. There's a whole world out there that you don't know, princess. Therefore," he sighed, "you are spoiled. Entitled ." He took a step closer to her, looming over her in such a way that suddenly made her feel small and inadequate.

She didn't like it—but she also didn't like knowing that she represented something so harmful. So she listened. "The people of Drikiera have lost their homes and are living on borrowed land. Living in tents and squalor. While your father, gracious male that he is, has done everything in his power to ensure that they are fed and cared for, there is only so much that he can do. And, I assure you, the least of their worries at the moment is jam ."

There was that hollowness again—that overwhelming pit in her Core that would soon swallow her whole. "What do you want me to do about it?" Her question was not voiced out of anger, not for argument. She genuinely wanted to know.

And as she looked down at the food that she no longer had much of an appetite for, he let out a long sigh that almost sounded as if it were laced with guilt. "Just do as your father tells you." He stated. And with that, he walked away.

Kaya didn't stand there waiting to see where he wandered off to. She folded up her food and stuffed it into one of the saddle bags before heading in the opposite direction, back down the path and towards Drikiera. She hovered there, by what used to be a wooden archway shrouded with luscious grapevines and looked out at the remains of the village.

All she had ever done was what people asked of her. The most she ever did for herself was read. She knew many things. Her knowledge of the world was extensive, but her experience with it was less than mediocre. It wasn't something that she was proud of and to have it thrown in her face only made her feel less adequate, and more of everything that Ilias Dothrae thought her to be.

Kaya looked out at the rain clouds that were crawling up the climax of the mountain, watched as those hungry goats continued their trek through the ruins, and decided that she would try. Instead of making excuses as to why using the Dark Bringer was a bad idea, she would at least see what this man could teach her.

She could be studious.

With a sigh, she turned back to where the horses were waiting and retrieved the bread from the parchment, walking slowly towards the goats that were probably following the smell of her food. And when she crouched at their level, they approached her carefully, watching her with their strange eyes as she broke the bread in half and offered either of them the torn slices.

They ate from her hand with a gentleness that made her heart sink, knowing that someone—either alive or dead—had once cared for them. Had ensured that they didn't go hungry.

Kaya drew in a deep breath, forcing a smile as she reached her hand out and began petting the animals. They didn't flinch, but accepted her kindness. And within a moment, hot tears began to prick at her eyes. She shoved herself into a standing position, an idea rich in her mind upon seeing a surviving roll of bailing twine littering the ground. The end was slightly singed, having probably been kissed by the flames as Drikiera burned, but it didn't matter.

Using her sharpened canines, she cut the twine in two and began to fashion leads out of either of them—placing the loops around both of the animals' necks before she began guiding them back towards where Ilias was watching her.

"What on Cadaith's green earth are you doing with those?" He asked.

Kaya beamed up at him, her blue eyes seemingly dancing as she looked back at her new companions. "I thought that I would bring them with us."

Ilias eyed the daft beasts, both of them staring at him with blank expressions—tongues lapping at the sides of their mouth.

Great . She's already fed them .

"All the way to G'Illach? "

Kaya gave a proud nod, scratching behind the twitching ear of one of her mangy companions. "All the way the G'Illach."

"Well," he sighed, utterly defeated and bemused. "Perhaps you could offer it to the warriors stationed there. As a gift. They do enjoy a good goat shank every once in a while."

No sooner than the words left his mouth did Kaya's face turn a sickly shade of green, eyes rounding and brimming with tears. "To eat ?"

It took everything in him not to laugh. "That is what they are for, no? Breeding, milking, eating. Don't serve much purpose otherwise." His eyes flickered from her to the animals once again, his mouth turning up at one corner. "What were you planning on doing with them—keeping them as pets?"

If she had names for them already, he would surely lose all sense of self control. It was becoming significantly more difficult to stave off his laughter.

"But I named them. You can't eat something once it has a name."

There it was. And when Ilias let out the deep rumble of a laugh, Kaya should have been insulted. Instead, she found herself marveling at the white glint of his incisors in the early morning sun. She stared too long and too hard at the way he threw back his head, his neck bared and coarse with that strange stubble.

For a moment, she found herself imagining what it would feel like to nuzzle it—how it would feel against her lips.

She shook the thought from her head immediately and began tugging at her companions, shouldering past Ilias and began tying their leads to her saddle.

He laughed all the while and even though she took comfort in knowing he wasn't entirely a bore and actually had a sense of humor, she didn't find this particular instance to be very humorous at all.

"Stop laughing at me!" She exclaimed.

Ilias held up his hands in mock defense, his eyes wet with joy as he gasped for air. "I'm sorry. You are just… you are so naive."

It must have been the worst word he could have possibly used to describe her. Because within a flash, a thick, leather-bound book collided with his head.

Kaya didn't have a moment to prepare. Ilias had cleared the distance between them, his hand grasping the wrist that was still lifted in the air, prepared to throw that stupid jar of jam that started all of this.

She swallowed, her heart pounding with fear because not only could she feel him trembling with anger, but because his lips brushed against her ear as he spoke. "I'd say your first lesson will be learning some respect." He growled.

Kaya tugged against his grip, but to no avail. She huffed, face turning red as she desperately tried to wring her arm loose. "Let go of me." Her voice was calm, face emotionless. Still, Ilias held her there. "Let go of me, Ilias." When his grip did not falter, she began to tug more frantically before. Her breathing became more and more erratic, her eyes pleading. "Let go of me!"

Her voice echoed through the trees, shrill and terrified. It felt as if Ilias had experienced a blow to the gut as he staggered away from her, the darkness swirling around her lashing out like unruly thorned vines. "How would you like for me to show my respect, Captain? Do you want me on my knees with my mouth open and waiting? Or would you prefer me bent over one of these rocks? Go on—pick one!" The shadows unfurled once more, swiping close to his head.

He was quick to dodge, his eyes wide as their whispered hisses grazed his ear. "Kaya—"

"No." She growled. " You don't get to call me that." The black of her hair kicked up in the wind of the shadows, looking as if it had become one with the mass of darkness. She strode toward him with an unnatural grace, like she was walking on air.

Ilias expelled a burst of energy, but it did nothing to slow her down or stop her. She got closer. He panicked, fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.

"Perhaps you hadn't heard—I had a teacher before. An egotistical male who believed he had power over me… he was a Captain once, too."

The panic that had bloomed in his chest withered, decaying into shameful realization. And then regret. "Ailikaya, I am sincerely sorry. I-I didn't know." But he did. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the stories began to align with the reality before him .

The story of a young princess, betrothed to the previous Captain of the Silver Guard. She was eighteen. The engagement only lasted a few months. And then he was imprisoned, his face mutilated beyond recognition.

"He hurt you didn't he?"

The darkness vanished. Immediately. So quickly that the morning sun was suddenly blinding him, his eyes squinted as he watched her crumble to the ground.

They sat there in silence as she regained her strength. And when she lifted herself off of the ground just enough to sit, she sighed. "Define hurt ."

Ilias was no wordsmith. But he knew that hurt came in many different forms, each form handled and dealt with according to how deep and precise the wound was made. Ailikaya's hurt was…

"The kind of hurt that makes you want to do great and terrible things to anyone who makes you feel unsafe." He spoke gently, carefully. And by the face she made when his words began to register with her, he felt that he had been correct.

The darkness inside of her was not as uncontrollable as her parents believed. It was her rage. Her hurt.

Without her knowing how to cope with what had happened to her, her rage would only fester and grow into something so grandiose it could be…

Catastrophic .

"I can help you, Kaya."

"Stop— don't call me that." She sighed, fingers weaving through her hair, her eyes drifting closed.

"Then what would you have me call you?" He asked.

She looked at him finally, the blue of her eyes suddenly such a heartbreaking color. "You call me by my name, Captain." She sighed. "Nothing more, nothing less."

━?○?━?○?━

The rest of the way to G'Illach was spent without a single exchange of words.

After such a revelation, there was not much that could be said to lessen the overwhelming intensity that'd formed between them. It loomed over them, thick as the rain clouds that had gathered in the sky, spilling its dreariness onto them to fitfully set the mood.

They passed through a forest, and Kaya noted the tiny people that scurried off into tree trunks, their wide eyes sparkling and observing her just as closely as she did them. They played no tricks, just simply watched as she and Ilias rode through their maple-swathed wood.

Ilias noticed Kaya perk up once they crossed into G'Illach, her eyes widening just slightly underneath the rain-soaked hood of her cloak.

The gates were as ostentatious and marvelous as always, golden and arched and gleaming, even in the rain. The streets were much like those in Holiadon, laid with chiseled squares of quarts. Temples and homes were built into the sides of the mountain, all of them a bright white, a stark contrast to the darkened summer sky.

Lightning cracked through the horizon, fracturing it into multiple sections, causing the bright village to glow. The thunder was loud. Ominous. And Kaya's goats tried to tug free from their leads, scrambling in opposite directions of each other.

"It's not much further." Ilias assured her. She looked at him, blushing just slightly. But not at the fact that he looked… wonderful drenched in rain, but at the unmistakable guilt and embarrassment from what transpired only a few hours before. She felt utterly humiliated and too vulnerable for her liking. She shouldn't have said anything when he'd asked. She should have told him no, that she hadn't been hurt.

In fact, she probably should have thrown that book at his head a little harder.

The rain began to ease, suddenly. And through the mist of clouds that blanketed the mountain-side village, Kaya could see the camp begin to emerge. As they rode closer, she started to see the tents and the small fires where people either cooked or sat eating their meals. The smell of cooked meat and eggs filtered through the air around them and Kaya's stomach growled. But as they drew nearer to the camp, all sense of hunger seemingly vanished the moment she saw a goat being dragged to slaughter .

She frowned, eyes immediately darting to Ilias who was already staring right back at her.

"Don't look." He commanded. "Just keep looking at me." It didn't matter what she was looking at. It didn't matter at all because she could hear everything. And once the noises started, she slapped her hands over her ears.

She expected him to make some sort of jest, or at least chuckle and shake his head as he had to all the other naive things she had done on their trip. And while it was expected, she was thankful that he didn't. He just kept looking at her.

And looking at her.

Until he pulled his horse to a stop outside of stone cottage.

"We have arrived."

His declaration drew her out of her stupor—one that she inwardly berated herself for because the terror she had felt knowing that poor beast's death was replaced with some giddy, girlish feeling that she did not like. Not at all.

Admiring his handsomeness was one thing, but this was something entirely different. Terrifying in a way that made her stomach feel as if someone had taken every single stone from the walls of that cottage and piled them at the bottom of it.

No sooner than she drew her own horse to a stop did she throw herself off of it and begin to retrieve her things. Ilias's hand collided with hers, finger brushing in such a simple way and, yet, it wasn't. Her fingers tingled under his touch, the shadows inched their way up her spine and through muscle and tendon to wrap around her senses.

"I've got it." She snapped. "I may be entitled and spoiled, but I can certainly retrieve my own luggage."

Ilias took a step back, heaving a sigh before he turned and walked away.