Kestrel’s ears were starting to ring, and she could no longer hear what the queen was saying.
This was all too much.
Thom was a traitor, possibly not even a father.
Her mother had cursed the lands. She had ruined so many lives.
And they wanted Kestrel to fix them.
But she hadn’t even been able to fix the king. She hadn’t been able to save herself from him, from the Maw, from the cinders. The fate of the realm was resting upon unskilled hands, and it terrified her.
Kestrel felt as if she were tipping over. And maybe she was because Micah’s hands gripped her shoulders not a moment too late, steadying her.
“Are you alright?” he whispered so only she could hear, but the sudden movement of his arm wrapping around her had drawn the attention of everyone in the room.
She searched for the right words, for the decorum that she had never been taught but knew was now expected of her as aprincess—as thesaviorthey were all relying on.
“Yes, I—I think I just…”
“It’s been a rather arduous journey, my queen,” Leighton cut in, speaking for her. “Princess Kestrel has wandered far, through the desolate deserts of Vallonde, and narrowly escaped the bloodlust of my father. This has all been a lot to take in, I’m sure.” He paused a moment, watching her with those knowing eyes, almost as if he was asking for her permission to continue. Kestrel’s chest was still so tight, she could hardly think, let alone say yes. Thankfully, when she didn’t interject, nor did her pained expression change, he continued. “She wanted to meetyou first upon our arrival, but I believe the princess could use some rest after everything she has endured. Perhaps she can begin her studies with a fresh mind come first-hours.”
Kestrel had never been more grateful to have someone at her side. Two someone’s.
“Very well,” the queen said with a flick of her wrist. “Inform Barnabus that his pupil will join him in the library at rooster’s first crow. Kestrel, you and I will meet after lunch. And don’t be late. Your magic training starts now.”
Chapter 19
A Queen’s Command
ELORA
When Queen Signe had sent for Elora again, she’d had no choice but to come down. Fortunately, by then she had calmed her nerves enough that she was able to think rationally again. To remind herself that although she had been kept prisoner in Irongate for the last couple of decades, they had never subjected her to torture the way the Caelorans had. It was unlikely they’d start now with the most elaborate and cruel tactics yet.
Still, after Elora made her way downstairs, she had lingered outside the throne room, listening for Darius to make sure he had been taken away. She still hadn’t been ready to face him yet. She wasn’t sure when she would be.
But as she’d stood there, she heard something else that actually made her want to go inside. She had expected to hear the queen, but not the second female voice that trilled from the other side of the door. A younger woman. And she sounded…scared? No, that wasn’t quite it. But she definitely sounded out of place. Uncertain.
It had been curiosity that finally forced Elora into the throne room. She wanted to see the mysterious woman her futurehusband had unexpectedly returned home with, ready to get the unpleasantness done and over with. If he wanted to engage with other women, Elora couldn’t be happier. That was precisely the sort of arrangement she wanted from him, one where he was utterly disinterested, and they were only betrothed to the public’s eyes, not behind closed doors where they could both go about their lives as they pleased. That would be the perfect arrangement. So if he had returned home with a mistress, it wouldn’t offend her, though it might be awkward to start with. At least until the wedding was final, and Elora’s crown—and more importantly, her freedom—was secured.
But what she hadn’t expected was for this mystery woman to be another princess.
That could change everything.
Especially given the tender glances he shot her way.
It wasn’t jealousy, exactly, that twisted inside her. More like fear. Defensiveness. A clawing sense of survivorship that made her irrationally irate to have competition threatening her standing with the prince. Because Elora might not love Leighton, but dragon’s fire if she was going to let him marry someone else and ruin her only chance at freedom.
The longer Elora listened to the conversation however, the more at ease she became.
Leighton only brought Kestrel here—that was her name, apparently—because she was Queen Signe’s niece. A lost family member that none of them had even known about.
Elora tried not to outwardly show her signs of relief, but she felt them.
The wedding would go on as planned.
The only difference now was that there was a vile Caeloran who would also be in attendance.
Her fingernails dug little moons into her palms, but no oneseemed to notice.
