Brienne hesitates, then nods. “As you wish, Eira,” she replies, her tone still respectful but with a hint of warmth now.
In the morning light, I can now see the room is more luxurious than anything I’ve ever slept in, soft sheets, a thick comforter, and a warmth that wraps around me like a comforting embrace. But none of that matters now, not when I have to face Rylan again after the disastrous encounter in the throne room.
As Brienne fills a basin with water, I watch her, curiosity and envy prickling at the edges of my thoughts. “Is your Strength water?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
She glances up, her expression surprised. “Yes, it is,” she says with a small smile. “I can do simple tasks like this, but not much else.”
A pang of jealousy shoots through me. “I can’t even manage that,” I admit, my voice tinged with frustration. “You make it look so easy.”
Brienne’s smile softens with understanding. “Don’t worry. With Prince Rylan as your trainer, you’ll be doing much grander things soon enough. You’re to be our future Aquilith, after all.”
Her words are meant to be encouraging, but they only remind me of the enormous expectations placed on me. I force a smile, trying to mask my anxiety.
As I wash, Brienne moves to lay out my training clothes, a simple set of fighting leathers. The leather pants are dark and supple, designed for movement rather than decoration. The tunic is fitted, but not uncomfortably so, with reinforced panels at the shoulders and elbows. Sturdy boots lace up to the knee, apparently well-suited for the rigorous training I’m sure lies ahead.
As I dress, my mind drifts back to the conversation I had with the king after Rylan stormed out of the throne room yesterday. The memory of the king’s calculating gaze, the wayhe spoke with a mixture of charm and threats, still sends a slimy shiver down my spine.
“Do I have a choice in this?” I had asked him.
The king had smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, my dear. You always have a choice. You can choose to embrace this opportunity, to become something greater, something that will bring you prestige and honour. Or, you can choose to decline and face the consequences of your past... indiscretions.”
My stomach had twisted at his words. “Consequences? For… my indiscretions?”
“Come now, Eirabella,” the king had said, his tone almost patronising. “You’re no stranger to the laws of this land. Thieves and those who harbour them are not looked upon kindly. You don’t think that the courts don’t know about your past, do you?”
Sweat had sprung over every inch of my skin. Fucking. Samfer.
The king had continued, “You could be thrown into the dungeon alongside the other criminals, or worse. And what would happen to those who didn’t turn you in? Your friends, all those villagers who have lied to the King’s Guards to cover for you… are you willing to risk their safety?”
My heart had pounded in my chest as the weight of his words sank in. “You wouldn’t,” I had whispered, though I knew the truth in his eyes.
“Wouldn’t I? Criminals have no place in our society, dear,” the king had replied, his smile sharpening. “But you have a choice, Eirabella. Stay here, train hard with Prince Rylan and enter the trials to become a Keeper, protect the realm, and hold a position of great power and privilege. Or spend the rest of your days rotting in the dungeon with your friends, thinking about what could have been.”
There had been no real choice, of course. Not after I’d remembered the looks in the eyes of the prisoners taken on their way to the dungeons. I had clenched my fists, feeling the bite of my nails against my palms, and forced the words out. “I’ll do it. But only if you promise my friends won’t ever be punished for protecting me.”
The king’s smile had widened, and he’d nodded approvingly. “Very well, follow through with your promises, and I’ll see to it that they remain untouched.”
“And one more thing,” I had added, meeting his gaze head-on. “Once I’m successful, once I’ve completed my training, you…will grant Ryl—, er, Prince Rylan what he is owed as part of his deal with you. No more conditions.”
The king’s expression had darkened slightly, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Do you have any idea of what it is he has asked for?”
I had simply shaken my head.
“Do you wish to know?” the king had pressed.
Yes. “Only if and when he wishes to tell me.”
The king had smirked. “And why is it so important to you that he gets what he wants?”
I couldn’t tell him why. I didn’t know. “That’s between the prince and me, Your Majesty,” I had replied, holding my ground.
For a long moment, the king had simply stared at me, weighing his options. Finally, he had nodded slowly. “Very well. If you succeed, I will honour your request. But know this, Eirabella—you will have to prove yourself worthy. If not, you all will suffer.”
I spot him immediately—Rylan,the Crown-fucking-Prince, when I step out onto the training grounds. He’sstanding with his back to me, but his form is unmistakable even from a distance. I’m struck by how effortlessly he holds himself, the strength in his posture, the way he seems to command the very air around him. It’s almost overwhelming, the sheer presence he exudes, like he’s a force of nature in human form. My reaction is visceral—I’m both drawn to him and deeply unsettled by the intensity he radiates.
As he turns to face me, his expression is as unreadable as ever, those piercing eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. But it’s not warmth. There’s barely a trace of humanity, let alone of the man who’d helped me in the woods, no hint of the person who might have cared. Instead, there’s only the seasoned warrior, the Celestaris, cold and detached, his walls firmly in place.
“You’re late,” he snaps.
