Chapter Three

“Your focus is non-existent, Kira. If I were the enemy, you’d be dead.”

Kira picked herself from the floor, her lungs taking in great gulps of air as she recovered from the sparring. Her father never had pulled punches with her during a lesson, and today was no exception. He had laid her low more times today than he had for years.

Taren continued. “What is going on? Where’s your mind?”

Kira took a swig of water, swishing it in her mouth before swallowing. “Places it shouldn’t be.”

“You always go places you shouldn’t be. Why should your mind be any different?” Her father offered her a cloth to wipe the perspiration from her face.

She took it, and with the first swipe the sting in her eyes lessened and her face cooled a fraction. “Usually when that happens it’s because Seth drags me there.”

Her father smirked. “And again I say, what’s different?”

The sudden twist of her stomach could not be blamed on her recent match, more’s the pity. She took another drink of the water to giver herself a moment to compose an answer. “What do you mean?”

Her father shook his head. “Don’t do that. I’ll never pry, but don’t hide from me.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” She motioned toward the bench against the wall, and at his nod, they walked together to reach the resting area. Once they were comfortable she began. “I’ve thought a lot about something. I’ve been thinking of nothing else these last several months, truth be told.” And now came the hard part, and her stomach cramped further. Her mind was made up. She knew, knew , this was the best decision. Why were these last words so hard? “I need to leave once Seth gets married. I won’t be happy or comfortable here anymore, and I would rather make a clean break than try to hold on and become more miserable by the day.”

Instead of shock or anger, her father nodded. He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the skin of her palm. “I was expecting this. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew I wasn’t. Of course you can’t live here when Seth has a wife. And if you did, it would be the worst mistake you could make.”

Her father’s acceptance broke something in her that anger or judgment could never have touched. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she used her free hand to rub them away. “How would it be a mistake?”

“Because neither you nor he are people who could live with yourselves if you had an affair, but that’s exactly what would eventually occur. It would be unavoidable, the way the two of you feel for each other.” Her father’s words were stark, direct. There was no cruelty or malice contained in them, only pure truth and the acceptance of it.

In her eyes her father was a warrior, the leader of soldiers who fought and bled for his king. He embodied that to such an extent that she sometimes forgot the part of him who was a man who loved his wife so completely he still carried a strand of her hair in a locket he never removed. It was to that side of him that she said, “I love him, Daddy. I’ve loved him for a long time.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “And he is as close to loving you as a person can without being in love.”

The words froze the breath in her lungs, the push-pull of conflicting desires strong. “Why do you think that?”

Taren let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to bring her against him in a hug, the full-body type he hadn’t given her for several years. “I’ve known Seth since birth, and because he isn’t my son, I can see him a little clearer than the king can. He is a man who embraces his responsibilities. It’s a rare and valuable trait, but it has the downside of always following duty and not heart.” He squeezed her harder, his warmth crowding out the cold inside her. “You are his heart, and every day he battles against it. Every day, I see him wrestle with this love and refuse to allow it to root, because he has to honor his commitments to his family and to his kingdom.”

“And his engagement to Rosamund.” The words had a bitter, ashy aftertaste to them, and a childish urge to spit struck.

Her father stroked her hair the way he had since she was a little girl. “I am not the king’s confidant and I do not understand his actions lately in regards to the engagement, but I do know His Majesty is determined this marriage take place, and that it is of the utmost importance.”

Kira gave her father a final squeeze then stood, taking several steps away from his embrace. The comfort was wonderful, but she needed to deal with this alone. It was her burden to bear. “I won’t ever come between Seth and his kingdom. I won’t… -I won’t tear his heart in two. I won’t have him regret what is his greatest gift.”

He seemed to understand her need for distance since he stayed seated. “I know you won’t. Never doubt you are as honorable as he is, Kira. You couldn’t love him as well as you do if you weren’t.”

It was only a fraction, but his words lightened the load in her heart. For the second time that night, she lifted her arm to rub against wet eyes. “I need to go for a ride. I need to be alone.”

Taren looked dubious. “You’re distracted right now and an easy mark. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Only into town. Riding away from the castle will start to clear my head. I won’t let myself become a mark, ever.”

It took several moments, but the nod of agreement did indeed come. “Do what you need to do, but be back before morning.”

“Promise.”

And while she did keep her wits enough that she was never in danger from an enemy, Kira’s meandering journey brought her to an area of the city she had not visited before. A small tavern, brightly lit and oddly inviting, drew her eye, and after stabling her horse Kira walked inside.

It was half-filled, the talk subdued and the clientele older, but there was a strain of merriment for all that. Kira sat at the bar.

“What can I get for you, child?” From behind the door an older lady walked out, gray-haired and cherub-cheeked. Her smile was warmth personified and every tense muscle in Kira’s body relaxed as she basked in the woman’s presence.

“Nothing too strong. A cider please.”

“Of course, of course.” The woman bustled about the bar. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

“First time here. Name’s Kira – thank you,” she added, as the woman set the glass in front of her.

“I’m Sara,” came the reply. “And while I find it fascinating, not many young ladies come in here with a sword at their side. Care to share your story?”

With a shrug, Kira answered, “It’s nothing world-shaking. My father believes that a woman should be able to protect herself. He taught me.”

The look on Sara’s face was pure approval, and her voice held not a hint of mockery. “Good for him! An admirable man. Men like him are part of the reason women will have equal rights one day.”

Kira took a sip of the cider, needing both a moment to compose her thoughts as well as a drink to soothe her parched throat. The movement pulled her sleeve away from her wrist, exposing skin.

The moment Kira put her glass down, Sara picked up her arm and twisted it slightly so her inner wrist was visible. “What an unusual birthmark.”

The intricate bundle of lines on Kira’s skin was only an inch wide, but it was such a complex design that people often mistook it for a brand at first. “Yeah, it is unique. I like it.”

Sara rubbed her thumb over the mark. “Anyone who knows the old ways would say you were fairy-marked.”

Kira looked up from the mark to see the older woman staring at her, the blue of her eyes as kindly as ever, but there was force there as well, and a depth of knowledge Kira was going to drown in.

“Excuse me, please. Are there any rooms available?”

That someone had gotten so close without her noticing embarrassed Kira, though it was an unassuming man with his equally unassuming wife and son. She pulled her arm from Sara and leaned back, her father’s warnings zinging through her mind with an audible snap.

“Of course we have a room. Can’t let this handsome little man not have a roof over his head.” Sara was back to being the grandmother of all as she bustled the family in and got them settled.

Kira took in the inhabitants of the tavern again, observing them a little more carefully than she had the first time. They all looked happy and grateful, that was true, but their happiness was of the same variety as the family that just came in. It was a gratitude that they had found an oasis in the midst of their troubles and that they could lay down their worries for a little while.

Sara returned. “More to drink?”

“No, thank you. Is something going on, some sort of trouble?”

A spark shot through Sara’s eyes and she leaned forward, motioning Kira closer in a way that screamed she had good gossip to share. “They are refugees from the city of Tolshire.”

King Matthias’s city. Seth’s fiancée’s city. “I have heard nothing about Tolshire being in any sort of trouble.”

Sara’s lips thinned. “It’s being kept very hush-hush. The refugees aren’t supposed to be coming here. The soldiers are herding them to camps, but the camps are crowded and, frankly, unlivable, and as a result many of them are escaping and taking their chances to come here.”

Kira locked her hand around her empty glass, needing something to hold on to. “Why? What’s happened there?”

“The curse happened.”

The curse. That damned curse that ruled over every moment of Seth’s life – and, by extension, her own. Kira shook her head. “The curse hasn’t been fulfilled. There would be talk of nothing else if it was. No one could keep that secret.”

“No, at least, I haven’t heard that it was. What I have heard is that the fairy who cast the curse left a message for the king. To punish the king for being so arrogant about keeping his daughter safe all these years, when she finally does succumb to the curse, a dragon will appear in the city to imprison her forever. So the king has ordered the city evacuated until her twenty-third birthday is over.”

Damn. Bad. Bad. This was so bad. If Rosamund did succumb to the curse, Seth wouldn’t let a dragon stop him from trying to save her. The only problem with that was while Seth was a decent fighter, he was in no way experienced enough to slay a dragon.

He still couldn’t beat her dad.

Kira threw money on the table and ran for her horse.