Unsure if she should copy them or if that would be an intrusion on this shared moment, Kestrel opted to lower her head in respect instead.
She had never heard about any of this. Hadn’t even known there were kingdoms. Not really, anyway. Thom never wanted to talk about anything before the curse. He talked about wanting to find a cure, but she hadn’t realized to what extent that would’ve impacted the entire realm. Hadn’t realized how many countless people, like Leighton and his brother, were relying on it. And now she also wondered why Thom had wanted it anyway. He had Kestrel locked up safe in a tower, he had his life in Mutiny Bay. What did he have to do with the kings and queens of Grimtol?
Lowering his arms, Leighton continued his tale.
“The curse turned our father into a crazed thing. Glutinous and insatiable. He rampaged our halls, slew dozens of our guards before breaking out of our castle and tearing through the streets where he…he ate countless of our citizens.”
Kestrel’s hand floated to her mouth. “That’s awful.” And then, trying to fill in the rest of the story, she asked, “And only you survived?”
Micah’s laugh was hollow compared to his formerly robust joy. “Flattered, truly, that you think the three of us defended our kingdom alone, as small children, nonetheless. But no. Others survived, thank the sun.”
Leighton nodded. “What remained of our guard managed to capture our father and put him somewhere safe, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore.”
Her first thought waswhere? But that seemed like an insensitive thing to say to the sons who had lost their father in such a horrific way.
“No child should have to know the pain of living without their parent,” Kestrel said, her eyes fixed on where her fingers threaded through the fox’s soft fur. She was trying desperately not to think of her own losses, for how could they even compare? Her mother had not been transformed into a monster; she had not been forced to witness her mother attack the homeland she loved.
And they were just two of the victims. If this had happened to all the kingdoms—the number of which she had yet to uncover—Kestrel imagined many innocents had been harmed in the making of this dreadful curse. Families ripped apart. Civilians slain.
It didn’t seem fair.
“Why would the Corrupt Queen have done such a thing?” she asked at last.
Micah shrugged, a tuft of his long, auburn locks shifting out of his eye. “To punish them?”
“But—” Kestrel frowned. “Those kings and queens weren’t the only ones who suffered. She punished you and countless of innocents as well.”
Kestrel and the fox both startled as Leighton jumped to his feet, fists clenched.
“That was the point though, wasn’t it? The Cursed Night was a calculated attack on not only her enemies, but their children—on the entire realm. She didn’t care how many innocents were harmed along the way. She didn’t care about dooming every kingdom into a time of darkness and misery. She only cared about destruction. About asserting power.”
Kestrel clutched the fox tighter. She hadn’t seen him like this yet. Hadn’t seen what it was like to watch the lastglimpse of his light be snuffed out. Not that she could blame him though. He had every right to be livid at such an injustice.
“Hey, Leigh, maybe take a breath. You’re scaring this fine young lady, yeah?” Micah winked at her, an attempt to lighten the mood, but his tone was anything but light. There was warning and worry behind those words. It made Kestrel wonder how many times he’d had to calm the crown prince when he’d become fixated on this matter before.
For all his outrage though, the words reached Leighton easily.
He sucked in a breath and tilted his head up to the clear sky.
“Right…” he said, a calm washing over him. “As I was saying, eight kingdoms lost nine leaders that day. All of us have spent the years since searching for the Corrupt Queen, trying to break her spell, trying to figure out how to rescue our rulers. But Irongate cannot wait any longer. Our kingdom needs their king. And if it can’t be our father, then it is my duty to take his place and lead our kingdom.”
Leighton’s gaze came back down from the clouds, and some of the light had returned behind those dazzling eyes of his, as if they had absorbed part of the sky itself. He returned to his spot beside her, his features softening with each step. Only once he was seated again, his ire cooled, did he finally meet her gaze and begin again.
“So, to answer your very reasonable question in the most long-winded way that I can—” Leighton smirked, looking a bit embarrassed— “Now that I am of age, I will be crowned king. But it’s a custom in Irongate for the next prince in line to prove himself worthy of the title first.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised and remembering that her original question hadn’t been about the history of Grimtol at all, but about what the princes had been doing here. And true to hisword, Leighton was answering her. “And how do you prove yourself worthy of the title?”
“By doing the only thing that matters these days: slaying a monster.”
Heat swirled in Kestrel’s belly. He was the Gallant Hero she’d pegged him for, after all. More than that, this was sounding more and more like the adventures she had read about. An unsuspecting young woman meets a heroic, handsome prince, and together they set out to rid the realm of darkness?—
But that overactive imagination of hers was getting ahead of herself.
This washisadventure. Not hers.
Besides, Kestrel didn’t know the first thing about slaying a monster. In fact, both times she’d encountered one—the cinder and then whatever horrid thing was at the bottom of the Maw—they had both nearly killed her.
She was letting a silly daydream get the better of her.
