Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 6

Despite her discontent with her situation, even Kindra could not deny that Wendrith was a marvel.

Alverin’s capital was built along the towering cliffs overlooking the Temprian Sea: a near impenetrable fortress. Kindra had read about it once, and as the city loomed ever closer, she recalled what the book had said.

The sharp slopes gave it a permanent uphill advantage, and the steep cliff-side made assault from sea almost pointless; even the most powerful squadron of Wavebreakers couldn’t create waves high enough to crest the walls. It was a pinnacle of defense design. The buildings, too, were built with the power of Wielders in mind, constructed with thick stone that could withstand a Windspinner or Earthwarden assault. And it was all surrounded by massive stone walls armed with turrets and battlements.

It made sense that the city had never once been lost to another kingdom, why no army had ever gotten close. The closest Wendrith ever came to falling was during Eija’s Rebellion, over a hundred years ago. That had ended as all attacks on Alverin did: with slit throats and decapitated heads, and the royal family’s power unscathed.

Or so they thought, until they realized the seemingly unimportant seventeen-year-old rebel they’d killed had the most powerful last words in history.

As their traveling party got closer to Wendrith’s walls, Kindra felt a burst of respect for the young girl who had forever altered Alverin’s future and dealt the power-hungry and cruel royal family such a humbling blow. Eija had been a Cursebringer, a Wielder of a rare form of Darkened magic. She could cast curses at the expense of her own life force. The larger the curse, the greater the toll. When faced with certain death after the defeat of the rebellion, she used her last moments to banish magic from all future members of the Annalindis bloodline.

King Iyron hadn’t believed it, of course. Not until a year later, when Prince Edward and his wife had their first son. The baby had opened his eyes, revealing them to be a muted, ordinary blue rather than the fierce gold all Annalindis heirs had. It was then that they knew Eija’s curse was very, very real.

Kindra shifted in her seat, yawning. They’d been up since dawn, the guards ushering her out of her tent and back into the carriage without giving her more than a few minutes to relieve herself and throw on a cloak. If there was one thing she was looking forward to at the castle, it was the prospect of a nice, hot bath followed by a very long nap.

It was clear the rest of the traveling party was eager to finish their journey as well. From her view out the window, she could see guards chatting animatedly, more talkative than they’d been for most of the two-week trip. Even Heinrich, who wore a near constant face of anxiety, was smiling as he rode alongside Jasper, looking more relaxed than he had the whole time she’d known him.

She envied them. While they grew more excited with every passing moment, she grew more terrified.

They were soon passing through the clusters of farms outside the capital, the landscape a sea of sprawling fields and pastures. It was a bit warmer here than it had been in Harthwin; the harvest was still occurring in full force. She spotted some sheep, and her heart panged, thinking of the wool blanket she got her mother just a few weeks ago. Well, she’ll be able to get all the wool she wants here , she thought.

The city walls loomed closer and closer, and Kindra had to crane her neck to try and see the top. She’d never seen anything so large. They were grander than even the tallest oaks in Harthwin, and probably ten times as thick, built to withstand war of magical proportions. Though she’d seen drawings of the city before, nothing could have prepared her for how huge it was in person.

A shadow fell over the party then, and Kindra’s breath caught as they approached the main city gate. At the apex of the gate sat a gold depiction of Scaldor, the god of fire. The Annalindises were—well, used to be—a family of Firefuries so powerful that one of them alone could raze an entire town in a matter of minutes. It was said that the first rulers of Alverin had been God-blessed, that Scaldor himself had come to them and gifted them some of his power, and that power had trickled down through generation after generation.

Until the curse.

Now, Scaldor’s presence was more mocking than anything. The statue of the god was cloaked in fire, and it exploded from him in every direction, engulfing the entire top portion of the gate in swirling, metallic flame. The statue’s face was contorted with angry determination, his mouth open in a battle cry.

For so long, the Annalindis family had used their God-blessed power to bring other kingdoms to their knees and ensure Alverin would never fall. They had embodied all that Scaldor was; from the flames that consumed him to his affinity for war and destruction.

And then Eija Cursebringer took it away with no more than a few words.

The loss of magic that powerful was catastrophic for the kingdom, and Kindra knew that the worst was yet to come. Alverin had centuries of violence to atone for. There’d been smaller, not-quite wars here and there over the last few decades once the truth of the curse got out. They were mostly skirmishes along the borders, sabotaged trade routes, or small campaigns that Alverin easily quashed, like the one that had killed her father. But Kindra was no fool, and she doubted the king was, either. Their neighbors were just getting started, and with the tensions that had been building over the last few years, all-out war with one of their neighboring kingdoms was inevitable. Though she could understand why the other kingdoms wanted revenge, she just hated that innocent civilians would suffer for it.

The carriage came to a halt suddenly, and Kindra stiffened as the door opened and Jasper stepped in. He hardly spared her a glance as he shut the door behind him and settled into the bench across from her. It had been four days since they last spoke.

She was not going to be the one to break that silence now. She gave him a scorching glare, and then turned her attention back to the window .

Jasper, unfortunately, seemed to be finished giving her the cold shoulder. “We’re about to enter Wendrith,” he said, and Kindra almost laughed at the pointless statement.

“Clearly,” she replied, not looking at him. Then, because she was suspicious, she asked, “Why are you in here?

“Well,” he began, clearly surprised she was talking to him, “if the people see me, riding next to the carriage… not in it… they will make assumptions.”

“They’ll assume you’ve brought back a bride?

“Yes.” The carriage jolted back into motion.

“But you did, didn’t you?” She shot him an angry glance. He avoided her gaze.

“Yes, but…” he sighed, struggling to find the words. “They get rather… um, excited, about the prospect of another wedding, and um…” He cleared his throat, then said, “I didn’t want you to have to be subjected to some of the things they might say. That’s all.”

“What things might they say that would be so upsetting to me?”

“Well for one, they’ll be very eager to find out when we’re going to… start having children.” Jasper winced slightly as he said it.

Kindra clenched her fist. They were passing through the gate now. Her heart ached as they did. Only the gods knew if she ever would go beyond the city walls again. “Yes, I suppose there will be plenty of children, won’t there?” she muttered.

He shifted in his seat, and it made Kindra feel better to see him so uncomfortable. At least he wasn’t some lewd, awful man who had no qualms about just taking what he wanted from her.

So far. He’s shown no indication of being that way so far, she reminded herself.

“Look, Kindra.” His voice was soft, pleading. “I wouldn’t… I know what the marriage contract states. But I’m not… I wouldn’t… I don’t want to force you. To do anything.”

She turned towards him. “And what if I never consent?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that. That’s why I want you to like me. For us to like each other.” He smiled at her. “I want to prove to you that I will be good. I will treat you well. I won’t lie, the rest of my family can be…” He sighed again, the smile falling from his face. “My older brothers take after my father. They’re arrogant, angry men. Th eir wives are nice enough, but they can still be petty and mean. My mother is only half-present. And my father…” He grimaced and looked away. “You know what my father is like.”

Kindra did know what King Leofric was like, and it was a good thing he wasn’t a Wielder. He’d have razed the entire continent by now if he had been. “Your sister,” she asked, “Helena. We never heard much of her in Harthwin. What is she like?”

A loving glow lit up his face. “Helena is my best friend. She’s about the only truly kind person in the family. Well, her and her wife, Emeline.” He grinned. “I think you’d have a blast with them.”

“Maybe,” was all Kindra said, the rest of her thoughts dissipating as they emerged on the other side of the gate, and Wendrith sprawled out before them.

The first thing Kindra noticed was the pipes.

One of the many inventions borne with the help of magic was indoor plumbing, something Kindra had never experienced. Only the major cities in Alverin had it. Along the city streets were grates and vents leading down to what she guessed were the sewers. Metal pipes ran up the sides of buildings, alongside bridges arching over canals, under staircases, carrying clean water to even the poorest households within the city walls.

Jasper smiled, noting her amazement. “I have missed plumbing greatly these past few weeks.”

Kindra decided not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was also looking forward to experiencing it. Growing up here would have been so different, she thought as they moved through the city.

“How is it cleaned?” she asked, giving into her curiosity.

“Wavebeakers in the sanitation centers. There are a few dozen of them all over Wendrith.” Elemental Wielders could always feel the wellbeing of their element; an Earthwarden could tell how a plant was faring just as Kindra could feel the strength of a fire, or in this case, Wavebreakers could sense if water was clean or not.

Before she could say anything more, she was distracted by the gathering crowd lining the streets as they began the long ascent up to the castle.

Judging by the clothes of the people—clean but worn—she could tell they were still among the commoners, not yet passing through the neighborhoods housing the upper class and the nobility. But while the citizens outside their carriage didn’t look rich, they all looked healthy. Well-fed. Content. They cheered and waved at the party, knowing from the seal on the guards’ uniforms that an Annalindis was passing through.

Her surprise must have been obvious, because Jasper explained to her gently, as if knowing it would be a touchy subject, “We try our hardest to make sure the people of Wendrith are well taken care of. I know…” He swallowed, then continued, emboldened, “I know that was not the life you had in Harthwin, and I know you find it hard to believe that the cruel Annalindis family would care so much about any of its people, much less the lowly commoners. But we are trying to do better, Kindra. We may have once been blinded by our greed, but if the curse has taught us one thing, it’s that our kingdom is only as strong as our weakest citizen—our poorest family, our sickest babe. The last hundred years has made us recognize that.” He finished his spiel with a nervous smile.

Kindra stared at him for several heartbeats. “How long did you rehearse that?” she finally said, raising her eyebrows.

Jasper sputtered. “I— well, I didn’t—” Kindra frowned in disbelief, and he sighed, his cheeks reddening. “I’m just trying to show you that marrying me isn’t the death sentence you think it is, Kindra.” She rolled her eyes, but he barreled on, “Yes, my father would abandon all the plans to expand infrastructure and resources throughout the kingdom in a second if he could have magic and happily return to a life of war and bloodshed, and yes, my brothers are some of the biggest assholes I know, but I’m not. Helena is not. My mother, for all her other problems, is not.”

“Well, if you have to say you’re not an asshole, chances are…” Kindra trailed off as Jasper threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, the second crack in his careful composure she’d seen in just as many weeks. And perhaps it was the exhaustion from traveling, or the excitement at the thought of getting to draw a bath without taking half a dozen trips out to the well, but Kindra let out a quiet chuckle at the showcase of his frustration.

“You’re impossible!” he exclaimed, but a relieved smile was flowering on his face too, and for a moment—just one—the heavy, angry tension that had lived between them since they’d met lightened. He was just a man, and Kindra was just a woman .

And then, as quick as it had left, the tension slammed back into place, and she was reminded of why she was here, in this grand city with running water and no empty stomachs, and the desire to laugh died. The smile slid from her face, and Jasper’s did too, because he knew he’d lost her.

Kindra turned away from him, opting to stare out the window as they passed through a second, much smaller gate into the neighborhood of the rich. Here, the residences were farther apart and grander, but she knew they had their main, large manors outside the city walls where their lands could sprawl for acres. Jasper offered no more commentary.

As they moved past the extravagant homes, she wondered how many of the families that resided in them could say they had a tie to the Annalindis family. They’d been seeking out commoners for marriages for the last few generations because of that very issue. Centuries of only marrying other high-class families within the kingdom would have posed a problem eventually, whether or not there was a curse. Besides, the few noble marriages they did have in the last century proved the curse could not care less about status or class when they, too, failed to produce a magical heir.

They came upon one last gate, this one as ornate as it was sturdy, providing entry through another otherwise impenetrable stone wall. Kindra didn’t need to look to know that the castle lay on the other side, but she did anyway.

The royal castle was stunning from a distance, but nothing could have prepared her for how beautiful it was up close. Built out of dark, smooth stone, it was a colossal feat of architecture. Kindra once again found herself straining her neck to try and take in all of its grandeur. Turrets, both slim and broad, broke away from the main castle to stretch up towards the sky for what looked like miles. There looked to be four levels, guards lining the walls along each one. Again, as they came up to the main entrance—a giant door perched at the top of a giant staircase—she noted the triumphant golden flames of Scaldor. They were woven into the adornment of every doorway, every window, every tower; his fire seemed to engulf the castle in a permanent embrace. She thought once more of the curse and knew those flames mocked the Annalindis family and all of Alverin more than anything .

The carriage continued around the side of the castle, entering a hidden courtyard. There, another host of guards, as well as a group of servants, awaited them.

Heinrich was the first to reach them, dismounting from his house and handing the reins to one of the servants. Several more servants stepped forward as the other members of their party practically leapt off their mounts, eager to be rid of the animals now that their journey had come to an end.

The carriage slowed to a halt, and Kindra felt her throat threaten to close as fear sunk in. She was here, in Wendrith, miles upon miles from her home, to marry Jasper Annalindis, Prince of Alverin. The reality of her situation slammed into her, more so than it had even over the last few weeks, and the carriage suddenly felt very, very small.

“Kindra.” Jasper’s voice snapped her out of her panic, if only for a second. He had one hand on the carriage door, ready to exit. “Deep breaths, okay? It’s going to be fine. You have the day to rest. You don’t have to worry about meeting any of my family until tomorrow—” Suddenly, a sweet, lilting voice called out his name, and Kindra watched as, for the first time since she’d met him, a real, unrestrained smile bloomed on his face. “Well, you don’t have to worry about meeting most of my family,” he amended, and stepped out of the carriage, leaving the door open behind him.

Kindra watched as he strode over to a beautiful young woman dressed in a simple but finely made gold gown. She had blonde hair like Jasper, and it fell over her shoulders in loose, golden waves. She reached out to embrace Jasper, only to pull back a moment later, her nose crinkling in disgust.

“Good gods, you smell like shit!” She jerked her head away, faking a gag. “Forget catching up until you’ve bathed.” Her attention turned to the carriage then, and a teasing smirk blossomed on her lips. “Don’t tell me you managed to bring home the one shy Firefury in the kingdom, brother?”

“She’s not shy,” Jasper rebutted, “This is just… a lot of change for her, Helena.” Oh.

This was the Helena Annalindis. Princess of Alverin. Jasper’s older sister, and best friend .

“Oh, please. Based on the stories we’ve heard about her while waiting for you to arrive, I doubt anything could scare her.”

Kindra scoured Helena’s words but found nothing mocking in them. Instead, she found a healthy dose of respect. It was that which got her moving, stepping out of the carriage and into the sun.

Before she had even steadied herself, Helena surged forward, clasping Kindra’s hands in her own. “Oh my! Aren’t you just stunning! And look at your eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Firefury with eyes that gold before.” Gods , Kindra thought as she scrambled to gather herself. S he talks a mile a minute .

“Helena,” Jasper chastised, though it was warm with fondness. “Give her a second.”

“Right, right!” The princess blushed, though she didn’t let go of Kindra’s hands. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so excited for your arrival, it’s all Emeline—that’s my wife—and I can talk about!” Kindra opened her mouth to speak, but Helena stepped back, dipping down in a small curtsy, and continued, “I’m Helena, though I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. Technically, it’s Princess Helena, but since we’re going to be sisters, you don’t have to deal with all the uppity titles and fancy bullshit. To you, I’ll always just be Helena.”

“R-right,” Kindra stammered out, shocked that she was finally getting a word in, “Well, it’s an honor to meet you, Prin— er, Helena. I’m—”

“Kindra Bedelyn, yes, I know!” Helena smiled even wider, and it was the genuine enthusiasm and kindness in it that had Kindra smiling back, albeit hesitantly.

Behind her, Jasper cleared his throat. “Helena, if you would be so kind as to continue this introduction on the way to Kindra’s chambers?”

“Yes, of course!” Helena moved to Kindra’s side, linking their arms together and guiding her towards the door to the castle. “We’ll see you later, Jasper!” All they got in response was a laugh.

Ahead, the guards opened the doors for them, and Kindra swallowed nervously, terror rising in her and pushing down any feelings of comfort she’d found seconds prior.

Helena squeezed her arm comfortingly. “Welcome home,” she whispered .

Kindra knew she meant for the words to soothe her, but as they entered the castle, that couldn’t have felt further from the truth.