Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 19

The walk back to Kindra’s rooms after dinner was silent. Jasper was tense by her side. She’d thought that once they were out of the king’s chambers, he would relax, relieved that the ordeal was over with. But instead he didn’t even look at her as they walked. When she tried to start a conversation, he didn’t reply.

After a couple minutes of this, Kindra began to worry.

Had she done something wrong and upset him? Was he angry with her? Perhaps she’d overstepped when she’d snapped at Antone, but she’d only been trying to get information about her home. And, to her surprise, she’d been defending Jasper, too.

Did she do something wrong when speaking with the king? No, that couldn’t be it. Leofric had hardly said two words to her the whole evening. His mind had clearly been elsewhere—the situation with Pryllia, no doubt.

Or was it the queen? Her cryptic, strange words had stuck with Kindra all night. Everyone had clearly been shaken. When had she last spoken before tonight? And what did she mean: she saw her? Had Kindra been in one of her visions? Even worse, had she been the vision that broke the queen?

She risked a glance at Jasper, trying to read his expression. But his face was blank, his brow just slightly furrowed, his eyes storming.

Kindra started to feel afraid, something she hadn’t felt about him in weeks. Wary, yes. Angry, often. Annoyed, almost constantly. But not afraid.

She was a fool to believe that he wasn’t actually the harsh man he’d been when he’d retrieved her. He’d let her relax, get a bit more comfortable with the idea that this was to be her life. But regardless of how he flinched around his brothers and father, he was still one of them .

When they got to her doors, she hoped he would just leave her. But instead, he nodded curtly to Cerulle and Sala. “Leave us,” he directed, his voice soft.

Kindra brought her magic to just under the surface of her skin as they stepped into the room. She moved away from him as soon as the door was shut, and was across the room within seconds, bringing a fire to life in the fireplace, ready to wield it in a moment’s notice.

“Kindra,” Jasper started, reaching a hand out to her as he addressed her for the first time since dinner.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. His brow furrowed in confusion, and then his eyes widened and his jaw went slack as he understood.

“Oh, Kindra—I wasn’t—gods, no, I would never —" His words fell over themselves in a nervous cascade.

“Then what was that in the hallway?” she shot back. She hated how hurt she sounded.

“I wasn’t—Kindra, I was just thinking !” His eyes, wide like saucers, were so wounded at the insinuation that she relaxed, her magic quieting.

He crossed the room to her in a few strides and cupped her face in his hands. It was the most intimate they’d ever been; his face was mere inches from hers. The heat that gathered in her cheeks was not because of her magic. She went still, unable to even breathe.

For a moment, Kindra feared—no, it wasn’t quite fear anymore, was it?—that he might kiss her. But he simply held her gaze, and said, “I get in my head sometimes when I’m thinking about something. I just—I pull into myself and can’t really maintain conversations around me. I was just pondering what my mother said, that’s all. Trust that I would never lay a hand on you like that. I’m disappointed in myself to have made you think I’d ever do such a thing.”

Kindra swallowed, then pulled back from his grasp. “Well, I still don’t know what to expect here. Your brothers are awful.”

Jasper huffed a small laugh, not looking away from her even as he lowered his hands. “Yes, they truly are. But they got a taste of their own medicine, tonight, thanks to you.”

She shrugged, turning away, uncomfortable under his stare. “I just wanted to know if there was an update on Harthwin, that’s all.” She’d been polite enough about it, considering Antone’s rudeness. Gods, there were so many rules here, and most of them were unspoken. How could she have known if she was being disrespectful? Were they not having a discussion?

“People behave around them almost the same as they do our father; fearful and timid,” he said. “It’s they who will continue the Annalindis legacy, anyhow, so I suppose it’s all good practice.”

Kindra turned back towards him. “How come?”

He frowned, surprised by her question. “What do you mean? Antone is the crown prince, and Sebastian is next in line. The odds of neither of them ascending to the throne are slim. I don’t stand a chance at being crowned King.”

“What about Helena? Does she?”

Jasper snorted. “Hel would sooner flee to Drucanar than be queen. She told me years ago that if it ever fell to her, she’d reject it and pass it down to me. Which is a shame,” he admitted, “as she and Em would be far greater rulers than me.”

“Why do you think you wouldn’t be a good ruler?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. It had been the look on his face that had pushed her to ask it—the shameful acceptance she saw there.

“Because I am weak, Kindra,” he replied, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t say such cruel things about myself to get your pity or to make you feel obligated to convince me otherwise—I know I am weak. I have known for a very long time. To rule a kingdom, much less one in such turmoil, it requires a strength I do not have.” He shrugged. “You heard Antone. I could have followed in his and Sebastian’s footsteps. I could have chosen to be a more active member of our military, be a general like them. I am a finer swordsman than either of my brothers, but my father cares so little about me that when I opted for more scholarly pursuits, he did not even fight me on it. I exist to play a role—the bookish, charming Annalindis, the youngest son who will never do anything of importance except maybe fight in whatever war we’re about to find ourselves in.”

“Maybe that will change, now that you are set to marry me,” Kindra suggested softly, mind whirling. How did they even get here? Just this morning, they were at each other’s throats at the breakfast table; just a few weeks prior she had vowed to hate him for all time. And yet here she was, heart twisting as she took in his exhausted, broken expression, feeling the urge to soothe him .

“I am inconsequential. If you’d been of marrying age a decade ago, he would have hitched you to Antone or Sebastian. The only person he cares about in this marriage is you.”

“Then maybe I can make things easier for you with your brothers—”

“I don’t need your protection,” he snapped, and Kindra’s sympathy evaporated like steam. “I have learned how to live with this.”

“Have you?” she countered. Again, she was amazed at how quickly he angered her. “Because tonight you were a shell of the person I thought you were, Jasper. Where is the arrogant prick who took me from my home? Who threatened the life of my mother?”

“That man is fake!” Jasper shouted, and Kindra didn’t even flinch, she was so incensed. “He is fake . It was me playing at being what my father wishes I was, okay? I thought you’d be glad to know I’m not really like that! I thought you’d be relieved!”

“Relieved to know what? That you shrink into nothing every time your brothers so much as look at you? That you’re mad your father doesn’t give you enough attention?” She knew that wasn’t what it really was and felt a sharp twist of regret as she watched the words land, Jasper reeling back as if he’d been hit.

“You know what? Fuck you, Kindra,” he spat, his pain and fury etched raw on his face. “I am trying to reach you, to connect with you, because we are stuck together , whether you like it or not, but you make it damn near impossible to find any sort of common ground for more than five fucking minutes.”

“You’re the one who's responding to me offering to help you as if I spat on you! I got them to leave you alone, is that so bad?”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” he repeated. “I’m not one of your helpless villagers—”

The reminder of her defenseless home sent her over the edge, and she wanted to slap him square across the face. “You dare to throw them in my face?” she roared. She knew that servants were listening outside the doors, because there was no privacy in this place, and she didn’t care. “You dare to remind me of the people you forced me to leave defenseless in a time like this?”

Jasper began to realize his misstep. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’ t have—”

“So many apologies, after the fact!” Kindra laughed, but it was a humorless sound.

“I’m sorry I stole you from your home, Kindra. I’m sorry I threatened to kill your mother. I’m sorry for forcing you to give up your body to bear children you don’t want. I’m sorry I constantly act like I know more about you than you do, even though I’ve only known you for two weeks. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Kindra, please forgive me! It’s my apathetic father and my mean older brothers, that’s why I behave like this, that’s all!”

She saw each sentence pierce him brutally, but she felt no remorse. She was shaking with rage, barely suppressing her fire. “Have you considered that the reason I am so impossible to reach is because you are impossible to be with? That every time I find myself starting to hate you just a bit less, you say something so cruel I have to start all over? That maybe this inability to connect ,” she sneered, “isn’t as much my fault as it is yours ?”

Jasper didn’t respond. He was pale, fists clenched at his sides.

Kindra waved her hand at the door. “Get out.”

He didn’t move. “Kindra—”

“Get. OUT !” she screamed, patience finally snapping entirely. Flames leapt from the fireplace and into her hands, burning the sleeves of her gown. Jasper stumbled backwards, alarm in his eyes, and Kindra felt ashamed to see it, even among all her fury. That he thought she would hurt him with her magic, even now, seemed so absurd it made her choke on a sob. Of course I wouldn’t hurt you, she wanted to say, for I am not like you. I am not cruel.

The doors slammed shut behind him and she fell to her knees, barely able to extinguish the fire in her palms. Brutal sobs racked her body so hard her ribs strained with each one. She felt as if her heart had whiplash from being tossed back and forth so much; she’d gone from feeling fondness for Jasper to hating him within moments. He was so careless. He felt so insignificant that he believed anything he did was inconsequential. But it was consequential for her. And she desperately wished he could see that, if only to spare her from this exhausting cycle.

She vaguely heard the doors opening and closing. Seconds later, warm, gentle hands were wrapped around hers. Sala.

“Come, Lady Kindra,” the Healer said softly. “Let’s get you out of this dress. ”

Kindra couldn’t respond. She was crying uncontrollably, the dam she’d worked so hard to hold finally breaking. She curled in on herself, sobbing harder.

A second set of hands, this one on her shoulders. “Here, let’s help you up,” came Cerulle’s voice. Together, they lifted Kindra to her feet and moved her into the dressing room, where she finally got enough of a hold on herself to stand on her own.

She looked at herself in the mirror, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying, the sleeves of her gown scorched to the elbow. “I ruined the dress,” she blubbered, feeling rather stupid. “I’m sor-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about the dress,” Sala soothed, unlacing it and sliding it off her shoulders.

“It was beautiful,” Kindra whispered, and hiccupped with another sob.

“It was,” Cerulle agreed, pulling out a nightgown from a drawer, “but there will be many other beautiful dresses for you to wear.”

“Yes,” she murmured, and then, because she felt she had to, she added, “He was being very mean.”

Her servants exchanged a glance. “Prince Jasper does not know the weight of his words, sometimes,” Sala said, choosing her words carefully; Kindra knew that she’d heard most of the fight. They both had. “You are not the first person he has upset like this. He and Helena have fought countless times over similar things.”

“When will he learn to be careful?” Her voice sounded so small.

Cerulle helped her into a nightgown. “I have found that caution is a rare trait among most men.”

There was silence, except for the sound of Kindra sniffling and fabric rustling. “I miss my mother,” she said suddenly, because why not? They’d lifted her, sobbing hysterically, off the floor; she doubted they’d ever see her much lower than that. And she needed to say it, needed to admit it. She was tired of acting like her mother’s absence wasn’t an ever-present ache in her chest.

“So do I,” Sala replied, taking the pins from her hair.

“And so do I,” Cerulle chimed in, removing the jewels from Kindra’s ears and neck.

Kindra merely nodded. When they were finished, they guided her to her bed, folded the blankets back and helped her slip under them .

Kindra settled into the pillows, sleep already pressing down on her. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out and squeezing their hands. “I’m sorry for my… display.”

Cerulle squeezed her hand firmly in return. “Lady Kindra, you have no need to apologize. There are few here who are truly in your corner; fewer still who will never stray from it. But we are two you may always count on, even when you are sobbing on your floor. Even,” she gave a small smile, “when you send a prince crying from your rooms.”

“Oh,” Kindra breathed, “he was crying?”

Sala shrugged, a mischievous grin blooming on her lips as well. “I do believe there were tears in his eyes, yes.”

Kindra could only manage a soft hum as sleep tugged her into darkness, unable to fight her satisfaction.