Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 17

Kindra and Sala returned to her chambers to find Cerulle waiting at the door for them.

“Lady Kindra,” Cerulle greeted her with a smile, opening the door for her. “How were the training grounds?”

“Enlightening,” she replied. She strode into her rooms. “Apparently, I’m to dine with the whole family tonight. I suppose I should start preparing.”

“Preparing your body or your mind?” Sala quipped, following her into the bathing room.

Kindra huffed a laugh, yanking off her boots and peeling the nerushmyr off her body. “Both, if this morning is any indicator.” She pulled her hair out of its braid, then turned toward the bath, which Cerulle was already in the process of filling. She began to move towards it but was interrupted by Sala reaching out and gently gripping her arm.

“Let me see to these, first, my Lady,” the Healer said, grazing her fingers over the scrapes from the corset on Kindra’s side. She’d almost forgotten about them, but now, as Sala touched them, they sent sharp darts of pain up and down her torso. Kindra let out a small grunt of discomfort. Sala hummed in response, her brown eyes beginning to gleam as she brushed over the wounds again. Kindra felt a burst of warmth, then a pinch of tightness, and she looked down to see her skin heal where it had been torn, the redness fading as if it had never even been there. As the warm feeling faded, so did all remnants of the pain she’d felt.

“Wow,” she remarked, “thank you, Sala.”

“It is what I am here for, Lady Kindra,” Sala replied, dipping her head and stepping back .

Healed, Kindra slid into the bath, once again heating the water herself. As Cerulle and Sala scrubbed her hair and skin, she closed her eyes, losing herself in thought.

Pryllian forces at the border, readying to strike. And Alverin had had no idea until now, when it was quite possibly too late. Kindra could almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. How arrogant must they be to think that kingdoms would not unite in an effort to destroy them? As if there was any other way to take them down but to join together. Alverin had made sure of that by spending centuries carving chunks of land from each kingdom, leaving them with less than half of their original territory. The only ones left untouched were Drucanar, protected by the blistering Scaldryn Sands and Dark Blade Mountains, and Eslai, the island nation who hardly paid anybody on Istreria any mind. But Alverin’s neighbors—Breyenth and Laoruwen to the west and Pryllia in the northeast—had borne the brunt of Alverin’s aggression ever since they came into being. Kindra doubted there’d been an era of peace that lasted longer than a few decades in their joint history.

So of course they’d be willing to ally together if it meant they could exact their revenge and wipe the threat of Alverin out for good.

How the fuck could they have not seen that coming? Kindra wondered.

Her pondering gave way to worrying about her mother. Surely, if what Jasper had told her was true, then she wasn’t in any immediate danger. But the rest of Harthwin… what would they do?

She itched to be back there. If she was, then they’d at least have somebody to protect them. Even though she couldn’t do much against an army, she could buy them time to escape before she met her end.

But that didn’t sit well with her either. Hadn’t she given them enough, over these years? Must she die for them, too?

If not for this marriage, that would be my fate . The realization did not settle easily in Kindra’s heart. Nor did the fact that she felt a jolt of gratitude for everything that had transpired in the last few weeks.

Was she becoming complacent already?

No, she thought, silencing that voice. It’s not complacency to be glad I’m alive.

Cerulle gestured for her to stand, and Kindra did, silent as she and Sala washed the lower half of her body. Already, the experience that had made her squirm just yesterday no longer did. Things were changing. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it. She didn’t love it here, but she didn’t hate it, either.

Sala handed her a towel, and she dried herself off, slipping on her robe. The two women sat her down at the vanity, combing out her hair and leaving it to dry as they rubbed thick, sweet-smelling creams on her face and neck.

“What do you wish to wear this evening?” Sala asked, turning to go towards the dressing room, Cerulle following suit.

“Gods, I don’t know, what options do I have?” Kindra replied, studying her face in her mirror. Now clean of sweat and smeared makeup, she looked dewy and refreshed. She peered at one of the jars, wondering what exactly they were putting on her.

“Maybe you should come and see for yourself. It may be hard to list them all for you.”

Kindra got to her feet and hurried into the dressing room, her mouth falling open as she entered. It had seemed overwhelming before, but now, it was even more so. The closets were bursting with all sorts of tunics and gowns, and she knew that if she opened the drawers, they would be as well.

“How do I…how do I even start to figure out what to wear?” she breathed, stupefied. She slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in. “These clothes are beautiful, but... I just have no idea how this works.” She bit her lip. “I suppose there’s no time like the present to start learning.”

“If you would like some help in choosing, we can be of some assistance,” Sala offered.

“Thank you,” Kindra said, feeling the pressure ease a bit. She moved over to one of the bursting racks, reaching out and running her hand over a gauzy pale pink gown. “What would you recommend for dinner tonight? How formal?”

“Definitely nice, but nothing like what you wore earlier today,” Cerulle answered, her voice steady and authoritative. She moved to stand next to Kindra and began taking out gowns she thought were appropriate. One was a brilliant gold that matched Kindra’s eyes, and the flowing fabric shimmered slightly in the light. It had long, billowing sleeves that gathered at the wrists, and the neckline dipped in a low V that didn’t seem to be too scandalous.

“That one would work, I think,” she said to the Windspinner .

Cerulle nodded. “I agree.” She gave Kindra soft smile and added, “It matches your eyes perfectly.”

Kindra trailed her fingers down the skirt. “Sounds good to me, then.”

They went back to the bathing room, finishing up her hair. They twisted it out of her face but left it down, pinning it back with golden sun pins. Sala added a thin line of brown paint right above her eyelashes and dusted her cheeks with rouge, leaving her lips bare. Cerulle fastened a simple gold necklace around her neck, the small pendant a diamond. All that was left now was to get dressed, which the three of them accomplished in just a few minutes.

Ready to go, her dress laced just tight enough, Kindra made her way to the sitting area by the fireplace and settled into one of the armchairs to wait. “Where is dinner?” she asked Cerulle as she and Sala came over to her.

“The family dining room,” Cerulle answered, “in His Majesty’s chambers. The family dines there when they eat together, and sometimes are joined by selected advisers or courtiers, when the king and queen invite them.”

Kindra did not like the thought of being in King Leofric’s chambers at all. “Right,” she said, “and when will you be escorting me there?”

Sala and Cerulle exchanged a look. “Well, actually,” Sala began haltingly, and Kindra knew what was coming next, “we will not be escorting you tonight.”

“Jasper will be, won’t he?”

“Yes, my Lady,” Sala replied, and she looked genuinely apologetic about the situation.

Kindra sighed. “I suppose I’d better get used to that.”

There was a knock on the door then, and the man himself stepped into the room. Kindra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then stood to face him.

“Good evening, Kindra,” Jasper greeted her, a slight smirk on his face. He was dressed in black pants and boots and a red jacket, a less extravagant version of his morning attire. His eyes scanned her head to toe, and she fought against the urge to squirm or look away or punch him in the face. “You look lovely,” he said .

“Thank you,” she returned stiffly, walking over to him. She tried to appear as calm as possible, as if she was completely unaffected by the prospect of dining with the king of Alverin. Jasper, she observed as she got closer to him, was not making such an attempt. She could see the individual beads of sweat on his brow. She blinked up at him. “All right?”

Jasper glanced at Cerulle and Sala, who smartly dipped their heads and quickly exited the room. Kindra was alarmed to see them go—she was now alone with Jasper for the first time. Yes, they’d technically been by themselves when they were in the carriage on the way here, but there’d been guards just a few feet away on either side of them, peering in through the windows. Now, they were behind closed doors. Kindra wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I am nervous, yes,” he admitted once the door shut behind Kindra’s servants. “I would be nervous regardless, but considering what happened this morning, and now the news of what’s going on in Pryllia…”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” She found herself wanting to soothe him and told herself it was only because his anxious energy did nothing to quell her own. “I’m on his good side right now, aren’t I? Surely that means we’re safe, at least for tonight.”

“Father is not the one I’m concerned about at the moment,” Jasper said. “Antone and Sebastian are top generals in the army.”

“And they found out this afternoon that they’ve been completely fooled,” Kindra concluded for him. “So they may be a bit on edge.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. Jasper stared at the point of contact, something unreadable crossing his face. “I can handle a family dinner, Jasper. So can you, I’m sure.”

“This is no ordinary family dinner, Kindra. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, we are not an ordinary family.”

“And I am no ordinary woman,” she returned, startled at how confident the words sounded, how she believed them.

Jasper relaxed a bit. He smiled at her, cheeks dimpling, the worry fading from his expression. “Indeed,” he murmured, their eyes locking. Kindra’s heart did something strange in response. “I definitely agree with that.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

She took it without argument and offered him a small smile. Together, they made their way out of her chambers .

And deep in Kindra’s heart, she felt a little bit like that might have been the start of something.

The start of a truce, an understanding, however tumultuous and fragile.