Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 13

The four of them made their way rapidly to the third floor, desperate to get away from prying eyes and ears. Kindra’s chambers, it turned out, were the closest, and they hurried inside. “Make yourself scarce,” Helena had all but snapped at Cerulle and Sala before shutting the door in their faces.

“What. The. Fuck ,” Jasper blurted as soon as the doors were both closed and locked. He whirled around and glared accusingly at his sister. “Did you know he was going to do that?”

Helena flinched, then glared back. “No. No, Jasper, of course I didn’t. We knew he was going to do something, he always does, but—”

“Wait,” Kindra interrupted, “what do you mean, you knew he was going to do something?”

The princess opened, then closed her mouth, clearly at a loss for words. It was Emeline who spoke instead. “It’s called Novon’s Trial.”

“I’m sorry, what is that?”

“Novon Annalindis was the first King of Alverin,” Helena answered, finding her voice. “When he was searching for a woman to make his queen, he devised a competition of sorts. Women from around the kingdom came to present their gifts, wielding or not, for consideration. It lasted for weeks. Every day, dozens of women came, each hoping that their few minutes before him would be enough to convince him to propose marriage.”

“Queen Scalya came on the second day of the fifth week,” the princess continued. “King Novon already knew of her. He’d fought with her in battle and had seen her power on full display. They say that King Novon knew she was his future queen even then and hoped she’d show up at his Trial so he could ask for her hand.” She paused and gave a small chuckle. “Obviously, she came. Then, for her talent, she encircled every person in the room in an identical ring of fire, and told him that if he chose her, she would do the same to their enemies, and the circles would grow smaller every time they wronged the kingdom of Alverin.”

Kindra was starting to suspect that the Annalindis family had been unhinged for a very long time.

“The point of all that is it’s a tradition done every time a betrothed is introduced to the king and queen. They have to… present their talents, somehow.”

“And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, tell me?” Kindra asked, voice climbing into a yell.

“Well, it’s usually not—not whatever that was!” Helena exclaimed. “Usually you don’t need to be warned. It’s normally very underwhelming.”

“So why was it different this time?” Kindra knew the answer before she’d even finished the question, and Jasper voiced it for her.

“Because you’re a Firefury.” He was leaning against the backs of one of the sofas, rubbing his face with his hands, still half-crazed and shaken. He gave a rough shake of his head. “Of course. I don’t know why I was so surprised he pulled a stunt like this.”

“He wanted to see how I’d react under pressure. He didn’t want some showy display—he wanted something real ,” she said.

“Exactly. You’re the first Firefury to marry into this family in almost a century , Kindra, because no Annalindis royal has found another one that comes close to the power we had before the curse.” Jasper’s voice was very quiet, but the intensity in it was jarring.

“So, what, my magic rivals the great power of your bloodline? Are there really no other options? No noble houses? Is that what you’re telling me?” She started to giggle, because the whole thing was funny, really. It was just absurd.

But Jasper, Helena and Emeline weren’t laughing. “That’s exactly what we’re telling you, Kindra,” Helena said, deadly serious.

Kindra shook her head, pacing to the other side of the room. “That’s crazy. You realize that, right? I’m not—I’m from Harthwin , for the gods’ sake. I taught myself how to do this—I don’t even really know what I’m doing—”

“Please, Kindra, don’t sell yourself short,” Jasper said softly.

“I’m not, I just—surely there are other options.”

“Kindra, there aren’t . There are no Firefury noble families, because we killed them all off, centuries ago, to make sure the only Firefury noble bloodline was ours. We didn’t want any competition, which worked wonderfully after the curse, because by that point the only other Firefury nobility were in other kingdoms, who all hate us.” He crossed the room in a few strides, stopping mere inches from her. “You are literally my father’s—my entire family’s—best chance.”

The intense emotions of the day—gods, it was still early afternoon—began to weigh on Kindra, and she stumbled over to a chair, collapsing into it. The corset of her gown, mildly singed, felt far too tight all of a sudden, and the calm she’d been desperately clinging to since this morning finally started to crumble into despair.

“Kindra, it’s going to be okay,” Helena said, kneeling in front of her and clasping her hands. “I know this is a lot, and I’m sorry, really, for how it went today. If we’d known we would have told you, I promise. I just figured he’d have you toss around a fireball, or something—”

“I can’t do this,” Kindra gasped, breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I cannot fucking do this. You people are insane.”

“Hey, look at me.” That was Jasper, kneeling down next to his sister. His hand gently gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Breathe, remember? Like we did before.”

But Kindra was not so easily calmed this time. She pushed them both away and staggered across the room, chest heaving. If not for the magic she’d expelled in the throne room, she’d likely be on fire right now. Even still, heat burned under her skin. “Do you understand how—how fucked up this is? To do this to me? It’s not just ridiculous, it’s cruel . A month ago, I was just a girl, living a normal life—”

“To be fair, nothing about your life before this was normal,” Jasper quipped weakly, and Kindra curled her lip at him. She felt the familiar tug of anger and gave herself over to it.

“What happens when I can’t break the curse? When—when we have a-a child,” she choked out, almost gagging, “and they aren’t a Wielder? You think your father is going to let that go? After that ? No. No.” She shook her head, pacing furiously. “He will kill me. And you won’t get off easily, either. ”

“Kindra—” Helena started.

“Look at me and honestly say you think he won’t, Helena.” She was met with silence. “That’s what I thought,” she spat. “I don’t want this. Any of it.”

“We know,” Jasper grumbled, but he was shifting uncomfortably. The heavy truth—that his father would kill her, and probably punish him, if the curse wasn’t broken—was settling in. They were all quiet for a moment. Then he looked at Kindra curiously. “You protected me without hesitating. Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Kindra asked, brow furrowing.

“Just this morning you looked at me like you wanted to kill me yourself. Yet your first priority was not to shield yourself, but me. Why?”

She shrugged, momentarily at a loss for words. “I don’t know,” she admitted finally. “It just… seemed like the right thing to do.”

Jasper said nothing in response, rubbing his hands over his face for what seemed like the dozenth time. Kindra suspected it was a nervous habit.

“Okay, so what happens now?” Helena’s voice was small, and it made Kindra queasy. She’d only known the princess for a short time, but she could already tell that she was a force of nature in her own right; bold and bright like Cyrie herself. To hear her sound unsure, afraid , was deeply unsettling.

“Well, we’ve got a while before we really have to worry about the curse. Like, at least nine months, right?” Emeline attempted a smirk, but it lacked its usual spark.

“Em, please,” Helena pleaded, but Emeline stood and walked over to them, the smirk fading into a more serious expression.

“No, I’m serious. We have time. I mean, the wedding is still, what, two months away? And then you figure that even if you two decide to like each other, it’s probably going to take a few months before… you know…” She coughed. “So even if it goes like that —which, given the way you two behave, is unlikely—you have probably a year and a half before Leofric realizes you can’t break the curse and probably arranges for your accidental untimely death. We can figure something out.”

They sat with that for a few minutes. Kindra paced. Jasper rubbed his face. Helena finger-combed her hair. And Emeline observed, her blue eyes sharp.

“I mean,” Helena said, breaking the silence, “do we actually believe he would kill—”

“Yes,” Jasper cut her off. “He hates to be embarrassed. And if he makes a big spectacle out of our marriage, only for it to result in more magic-less children… Yes, he’d kill her for that. He’s killed people for less.” He crossed his arms. “He’d probably kill me too.”

Kindra started. “Jasper, you’re his son.”

“Come on, you saw how he treated me in there, in front of the entire court. I don’t think he’d be that upset about it.” It was so matter of fact, the way he said it. And, surprisingly, Kindra felt sympathy for him. She and her mother fought as much as any mother and daughter, and she’d disappointed her at times, but her mother loved her deeply. Kindra had never doubted that. She couldn’t begin to imagine having a parent that was so apathetic about her existence.

Perhaps Jasper’s life here was not as cushy and perfect as she’d thought it was. Maybe she’d misjudged him, even just a bit.

“So this has been his belief all along—his big gamble,” Helena said. “He hasn’t given a shit about who the rest of us marry because he’s convinced himself that only another Firefury—one of great power, at that—will break the curse, and that’s why nobody’s succeeded yet.”

A beat of silence.

Kindra sighed. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jasper replied, “fuck, indeed.”

At least they could agree on that.

Jasper left not much later, claiming he wanted to rest his eyes. But Kindra was the opposite: she was filled with pent up energy, desperate to expel it. As soon as the doors shut behind Jasper, she turned to Helena and Emeline. “I need to get out of this dress,” she proclaimed, and hurried into the dressing room without seeing if they were following.

They did, of course, if only because they knew she’d be unable to undress herself. While she removed her jewelry and took down her hair, Helena unlaced her corset with rapid precision. Kindra didn’t realize how used she’d gotten to the tightness of it until she took her first deep breath in hours without it.

A bolt of pain raced down her side, and she twisted to see what the source was. “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to wield in something like this. Look at this.” Along her sides were reddened and scraped patches of skin from where the corset boning had dug in, most likely from the rapid movements wielding required, which the rigid and restrictive structure of her gown did not easily permit.

Emeline sucked in a breath. “You should have Sala look at that. Some of those look bad.”

Kindra nodded, then shimmied out of the dress completely. She’d already shed her modesty about being undressed in front of others; it was clear that was to be a staple of her life here and the sooner she got over it, the better. There was plenty else to be distressed about. Clad only in her undergarments, she moved about the room, opening drawers and chests. She found embroidered tunics, billowing gowns, and more of those lacy nightclothes, but she could not find what she was looking for.

“What are you searching for?” Helena asked.

“Something I can move in,” Kindra replied as she dug through yet another drawer, only to find it filled only with different styles of gloves . She groaned in frustration, then turned to Emeline. “You said you have access to a training ground, a place I can wield.”

Emeline blinked, surprised. “Yes, but—I mean, wouldn’t you rather rest, after today?”

“No,” was Kindra’s blunt response.

There was a stretch of tense silence while she tore through the dressing room. “Kindra, we should maybe talk about—” Helena started, but Kindra shook her head rapidly, cutting her off.

“No. We’ve talked enough. I want to do something.”

“Like what?” Emeline pressed.

Kindra shrugged. “I just want to be ready. For anything.” To fight my way out of here , she finished in her head.

“You need to be careful,” Helena warned. “Show too much power and suddenly you go from being his greatest prize to his biggest threat.”

“Well, I imagine I’m a bit away from that. Your ancestors used to burn whole cities down single-handedly. The most I’ve done is—”

“Fight off an entire group of bandits on your own? Scorch a raider’s camp down to ash and hardly break a sweat? Create a wall of flames so high it almost touches the ceiling of the throne room, and still be teeming with magic afterward?” Helena crossed the room and grabbed Kindra’s hands, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Kindra, I know you know you’re strong, but you still greatly underestimate yourself. My father wasn’t just trying to get under your skin when he commented on your lack of formal training—he was being honest. Those aren’t uncommon feats for Firefuries who’ve gone through Grydmarth or spent years on the battlefield, but for you? Somebody who taught herself in the woods behind her home? It isn’t just rare. It’s practically impossible .”

Kindra shook her head again. “I just did what I had to do to—to stay alive. To protect Harthwin.”

“And I don’t doubt that that’s a big reason why you’re as powerful as you are. But still, the power you so effortlessly possess is… Kindra, that has not been seen here in a long time.”

Kindra opened and closed her mouth, struck stupid. Then she shook her head furiously, wrenching her hands from Helena’s and turning back to her search. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I just want you to understand—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it ,” she snapped, and Helena’s eyes bulged in surprise. Kindra took a deep breath, centering herself, then added, “Please. I just—can’t, right now.”

“Okay,” Helena said softly, “okay.” She moved back to stand beside Emeline, who reached out and squeezed her waist comfortingly.

Finally, Kindra stumbled upon a drawer filled with just what she was looking for: leggings and tops meant for training. She pulled out a black set and pulled them on. They were an interesting material: a solid, but breathable black mesh-like fabric that clung to her body like a glove, fitted with sheaths and buckles to attach weapons. The top was sleeveless but high-necked, covering her more vulnerable torso and chest but leaving her arms unrestrained.

“What is this?” she asked, running her hands over the fabric again.

“It’s nerushmyr. First invented in Laoruwen some centuries ago,” Emeline answered. “It’s become the standard uniform for training, and all soldiers wear a suit of it under their armor. It’s essentially fireproof.”

Kindra whirled around to face her. “It’s fireproof?”

The Wavebreaker smiled. “Yes. So its creation was a blessing, as I’m sure you can understand. No more getting your clothes burnt off and having to run around naked during a battle.”

Kindra chuckled at the thought, hands still wandering over the material. Tentatively, she called a small flame to her fingers and ran it over the nerushmyr. She felt a bit of warmth where the fire touched, but it didn’t burn or singe, or even smoke. Awed, she couldn’t fight the broad grin that blossomed across her face. “You have no idea how many clothes I’ve destroyed over the last decade,” she said, then looked to Emeline. “Can you take me?”

“Of course. It’s a haul though; the ring’s on the other side of the castle grounds,” Emeline said, handing her a pair of black boots from one of the chests—also nerushmyr, with thick leather soles.

“That’s all right with me. I suppose I could use a tour.” Kindra tugged the boots on.

Emeline looked at her wife. “Want to come with?”

Helena shook her head. “I need to do some work. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork on my desk that I’ve been putting off for too long.” She smiled. “You two have fun, though.” She pressed a quick kiss to Emeline’s lips, waved Kindra goodbye, and slipped out.

Kindra grabbed a ribbon and messily braided her hair back out of her face. Her eyes were still lined with kohl, her lips still that deep red, though the makeup was all a bit smudged now. Her eyes gleamed, pools of molten gold.

“You look fierce, princess,” Emeline commented, and for the first time the title didn’t chaff on Kindra’s nerves. “You ready?”

She didn’t hesitate before she nodded. “Lead the way.”