Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 35

News of the refugees arrived the next day, snapping Kindra out of her well-kissed stupor.

Word had spread across the kingdom about the attack and the war that was now more inevitable than ever. Though King Leofric's show of strength had done a good job at quelling fear, panic still poisoned the air of the castle and all of Wendrith. Kindra knew it was the same throughout Alverin.

People were flocking to the larger cities because of the impending crisis, abandoning their small, defenseless villages in hopes that the walls of Dewport or Roulierne would shield them from what was to come. It had only just begun, and already lords and city officials were sending messages reflecting concerns of being overwhelmed, their streets becoming flooded with displaced people they could not house or feed.

This was the topic of the Council meeting that day. Helena had surprised Emeline, Kindra and Jasper that morning by announcing that she was going to the Council meeting, something she rarely did.

"They don't walk among the people like I do," she'd explained. "They haven't in years. Once they could get away without having to interact with the civilians, they stopped. But I'm out there, every month, sometimes every week! I talk to them. Not just those who are nobility or upper class, but all of the populace. So I need to be in there, if they're going to decide whether or not we protect our people." She'd shot Jasper a pointed look. "Besides, you're going to need all the help you can get. I imagine you'll have only Epira on your side, and that's not going to do you one damn bit of good."

But though Kindra itched to be in that meeting with them, she was instead at court, in a gown of deep brown, flowing silk rather than her nerushmyr. Jasper and Helena had both been pushing for her to make an appearance here for weeks now. The sparring and then the bombing had provided excuses to avoid it, but Kindra knew she was merely putting off the inevitable. At some point, she was going to have to interact with the courtiers

At least she had Emeline with her, who was capable of repelling the more unpleasant ones with a single glance.

Today, the Wavebreaker looked resplendent in a forest green gown cut from gossamer. It left her arms bare, and attached at her shoulders was a shimmering, sheer cape that trailed behind her as she walked. Her black hair was braided in an intricate crown around her head, her skin dusted with gold.

When Kindra had complimented her, she'd leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't often attend court. But when I do, I make sure to remind these vultures that I'm royalty, and they are not."

The gilded parlor went quiet when they entered, conversations stopping mid-sentence. Queen Cordilya was seated on a small, golden throne at the front of the room, looking as empty as always. A glass of champagne sat on a table next to her, hardly touched. As Kindra and Emeline made their way to greet her, Kindra didn't think she'd notice their presence.

But the queen gave a nearly imperceptible nod when they came to a halt, her gray eyes flitting over them. Kindra and Emeline dipped into low curtsies, bowing their heads in acknowledgment.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Emeline said, voice softer than normal. "We've come to join your court this afternoon."

There was a beat of silence in which the whole room watched.

And then Queen Cordilya gave them yet another tiny nod, and the parlor burst back into conversation. In the corner, a musician seated at a pianoforte resumed his playing. More Rouliernien sparkling wine was poured, more violetleaf pipes were filled.

Kindra and Emeline made their way over to an open sofa in the corner of the room, hoping to be left alone.Unfortunately, they only had a few minutes to themselves before they were approached by a pair of silver-eyed twins—the Halis sisters, who had mocked Kindra behind her back when she'd first arrived. She’d also heard through the grapevine no shortage of other disparaging remarks they’d made about her since .

"Good day, Lady Kindra, Princess Emeline," the one on the left said, and they both curtsied.

"Hello, Lady Genevera." Emeline nodded to the one who'd spoken, then to her sister, "Lady Caroline."

They both had sharp, scrutinizing gazes that didn't soften as they sat on the sofa across from them. Genevera held a flute of sparkling wine in her hand, and Caroline clutched a violetleaf pipe in her long, thin fingers.

"Would you like some?" she offered, holding out the pipe.

"No, thank you," Kindra replied. She hadn't known much about the plant before she arrived in Wendrith. It didn't grow well near Harthwin; the climate was too cold for it to thrive there. She'd learned quickly, though. Violetleaf was actually a flower, though the flower itself was useless. If one crushed up the vibrant purple leaves and smoked them, however, they had a relaxing, heady effect that could help with sleep or alleviating stress. A lot of the courtiers, she'd noticed over the past few weeks, rarely went anywhere without a pipe in hand, and that was before the war closed in on them. Now, most of them spent many hours a day in a violetleaf fog.

If only everyone could simply smoke their problems away , Kindra thought bitterly as Caroline took a slow drag from the pipe. The lavender smoke floated from her mouth and into the air around them, the smell reminding Kindra of burning flowers.

"We've been waiting so long for you to come here, Lady Kindra," Caroline said airily.

"You've been so busy sparring , though, we wondered if we'd ever get the chance to talk to you," Genevera added, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well, I'm here now," Kindra said, smiling tightly and feeling very out of her element. It was so different from the training grounds; though this, she knew, was just another type of sparring match.

"Did you ever come see her? In a match?" Emeline drawled, plucking a drink off of a passing server's tray.

"Oh, no," Caroline giggled, silver eyes glassy. "I don't even think we know where the training grounds are."

"Did you not go to Grydmarth?" Kindra asked before she could stop herself. These were Windspinners of high noble rank—their uncle was Councilman Halis, in charge of the infrastructure, improvement, and construction throughout not only Wendrith, but all of Alverin. He worked with lords and city officials all over Alverin on projects like water systems and roads. So surely, his nieces were of considerable magical strength.

Genevera shrugged. "We did, because all noble children do, but..." She gestured to the ornate room they were sitting in. "Let's just say, our calling lies elsewhere."

"And what would that be, Lady Genevera? Spending your days smoking and drinking?" Emeline baited, voicing Kindra's thoughts out loud.

"Why, Princess Emeline, it's so much more than that," Genevera replied, voice syrupy. "Our calling is to serve our dear Queen Cordilya. And to marry well and continue the Halis bloodline—one of Alverin's oldest and strongest families. Second to the Annalindis family, of course." Her face gleamed with pride, but her eyes were as sharp and glinting as ever.

Caroline giggled again, leaning back into the sofa. The pipe dangled limply from her hand, the bowl nothing but ash. "Well, perhaps the Annalindis family of a hundred years—"

Genevera silenced her sister with a dangerous look and a tight squeeze on her arm. Kindra was shocked. To voice such a thing out loud was surely forbidden, wasn't it? She looked at Emeline, who was regarding Caroline as though she were prey. Genevera caught the look and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the arrogance she'd oozed just moments ago vanishing.

"I didn't know disparaging the royal family was part of your duty to our beloved queen, Lady Caroline," Emeline observed, taking a casual sip of her drink. But every word dripped with warning. Caroline seemed to finally grasp some awareness and shrank further into her seat.

"She did not mean that, Your Highness—"Genevera interjected.

"You know, ladies," Emeline cut Genevera off as though she'd not even been speaking, "When every other kingdom on this continent comes to kill us all, your wine and your pipes will not save you. Nor will your bloodline , since you do fuck all with the magic you got from it. Do you even remember how to wield? Or have you drunk and smoked yourselves into uselessness?" Emeline stood, and Kindra, awestruck at the Wavebreaker's sheer ferocity, stood with her. "Perhaps you should come by the training grounds. See how somebody who's actually serving this kingdom spends her time." She strode away, cape flowing behind her, and Kindra practically scrambled after her.They said farewell to Queen Cordilya, who gave no indication she even knew what had transpired, and quickly made their exit.

"And that," Emeline said through clenched teeth as they made their way up the stairs to their chambers, "is why I don't go to court very often."

"I don't know," Kindra admitted, laughing softly, "That was kind of fun."

Emeline only rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the gleam of satisfaction in them that told Kindra she agreed.

Later that night, Jasper gave Kindra a summary of the Council meeting.

The Council was evenly split. On one side, Councilmen Terbis, Epira, and Brenlyr were for opening the gates of Wendrith to refugees immediately. On the other, Halis, Oxler and, naturally, Avis, were against it. Antone and Sebastian were also against it, though Sebastian was not so firm in his stance as his older brother. Helena and Jasper were firmly rooted against their siblings and had argued emphatically against barring people from entering the city.

"So your father is the one who decides, right?" Kindra asked, sitting cross-legged on Jasper's bed as he looked over papers at his desk.She’d only been in his room a handful of times since the day of the attack and was still taking it all in. Namely, all of the books. There were piles of them everywhere. Even the desk where he currently worked was partly covered in them.

"Yes," Jasper replied, half-distracted, "and I doubt he'll side with us."

She frowned. "I mean, surely he wouldn't abandon his people—"

He turned over a page, scanning it for something. "It'll get more people to sign up for the army. Think about it. The cities are full, but if you sign up to fight, you get a roof over your head. Three meals a day. And a small wage, which you can send back to your loved ones who may be unable to join, which can in turn help them find housing and food." He gave her a sad smile. "This is the way of it, Kindra."

She shifted, feeling uncomfortable. "Seems very manipulative," she grumbled. "Refuse to help your people so they're more likely to sign up to die for you."

"Helena and I tried to come up with a compromise. Putting out a call for people who have extra rooms in their homes to open them up. Let a family stay there in exchange for work. That way only those really capable of fighting join the army, and those who cannot fight have some place to go."

Kindra nodded. "That seems much more humane."

"It is. Unfortunately, I don't know if they'll buy it. More soldiers aren’t a bad thing when we could be going up against three separate armies." He was still scouring the papers on his desk, searching for something he'd yet to find.She studied the profile of his face: the strong slope of his nose, the defined curve of his jaw, the soft swell of his lips.

She was unable to look away. He is quite beautiful, she thought. It was perhaps the first time she'd allowed herself to think that without feeling ashamed or angry about it.

"I can feel you staring," he said softly, lips curving upward. He turned his head, catching her eyes before she looked away, cheeks burning. "I don't mind it. I'm sure you feel me staring at you all the time."

Kindra smiled despite herself. She did always know when he was looking at her. He had never tried to hide it either, like she did. He'd always been completely unashamed of how he watched her.

How extraordinary, he'd said, the first time he'd seen her expel her magic. She could still picture the wonder that had shone on his face.

"Come sit with me," she blurted, suddenly needing to be close to him. "You've been working all day." He'd been hunched over that desk when she arrived half an hour ago and hadn't so much as touched her. That bothered her more than it should have. Now that she'd had a taste of it, she couldn't get enough.

Jasper straightened, turning to face her. "On my bed?"

Kindra swallowed, then nodded before she lost her courage. "Sure. Why not? You are my betrothed." That last sentence was more for her than him.

He nodded and made his way to the bed. "I am your betrothed," he repeated softly, settling down next to her. Hesitantly, he reached out, brushing a stray curl out of her face. The touch of his fingertips—his fingertips —lit a fire inside her. She let out a shaky breath, face leaning into his palm, which cupped her cheek.

"We don't—I don't expect anything from you," Jasper clarified quickly. "Just because we're sitting on my bed doesn't mean—"

"I know." She rested a hand on his chest, where she could feel his heart pounding just as quickly as hers. "But I appreciate you telling me anyway."

Then she curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him to her until her lips met his.

It was infuriating, really, how much she enjoyed kissing him already, and this was only the third time it had happened. A small part of her wanted to be annoyed about it, whispering things about being trapped and forced into marriage and caged.

But the rest of her didn't care at all, not as Jasper reached over and grabbed her by her thighs, pulling her on to his lap so she was straddling him in one smooth maneuver.

Maybe she'd never see the freedom she'd once known ever again. But if this was the cage... well, there were far worse bars to be trapped behind.

Before she knew it, she was working to undo the buttons of his shirt. Jasper moaned, kissing her mouth, as she ran her palms down his chest and stomach, and she hummed appreciatively as she felt every solid muscle. His hands, still on her thighs, trailed up, pushing her tunic up around her hips.

And then he hesitated, even as their kisses grew wilder.

"Always such a gentleman," Kindra whispered. Her fingers slid lower on his stomach, brushing the waistband of his pants. Jasper sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'd rather be sure," he murmured back, voice strained.

"I'll tell you when to stop, Jasper." She broke their kiss long enough to meet his eyes and make that promise. "Now please, for the love of the gods, touch me ."

He choked out a surprised laugh, and Kindra cut it off as she slammed her lips to his once again.

And finally, his hands slid up those final few inches, cupping her ass and squeezing in a way that made her whole body thrum with desire.

She moaned, pressing her hips down against his almost subconsciously. She could feel the hardness of him, and what she once thought would terrify her now only made her want more.

Jasper pushed her down against him again, grinding into her as his tongue parted her lips and rubbed against hers. One of his hands snaked up to grab her breast, and she was overwhelmed with the desperate, desperate need to get their clothes off. She hadn't felt this way in years, not since she was nineteen and had had a month-long fling with the son of a family passing through her village. She'd missed it, she realized.

It was fun.

"Kindra," Jasper sighed, pulling back to catch his breath. "We should... take... a second..."

The pause brought her back, slightly, to her senses. "Right," she managed, "right." Slowly, stiffly, she moved off of him.

His gray eyes, still heated, raked over her. "You still haven't figured it out, have you?"

"What do you mean?"

"How to want me," he said simply. When Kindra opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head. "It's okay. I'm just glad you've realized that you do."

"And what if I hadn't?"

He shrugged and stared at the ceiling. "I would have waited. It would've driven me crazy, though. I've wanted you since the second I walked into your cottage in Harthwin."

Kindra knew he was telling the truth.

"I was quite awful to you," she said quietly.

"Yes," he agreed, "but you had your reasons. I never resented you for it, even though it hurt sometimes."

She felt maybe she should apologize. But she knew, despite how far they'd come, she wouldn't mean it if she did. Her anger had been real and valid, and he'd acted in a way that deserved it.

"I'm glad you didn't," she said instead. "Most people do. Most people are frightened."

"I could never be scared of you," he whispered.

Staring into his eyes, Kindra believed him.

An hour later, Kindra slid quietly out of Jasper's chambers. The halls were dimly lit, the windows revealing the dark night sky. There was no moonlight to illuminate the dark castle; the moon was hidden behind clouds tonight.

A guard moved to escort her, but she waved him away. That was one thing that had yet to materialize for her here: the constant hovering of a squad of guards. She suspected it was Jasper's doing. She'd mentioned to him more than once how much she despised being followed everywhere she went, how restricted it made her feel, and since then, the only times guards had shadowed her was when they'd gone into Wendrith.

To be fair, she spent so much time with Emeline, Jasper and Helena that their personal guards had practically become hers. But she liked that she had the chance to have some privacy, to walk alone and feel less suffocated. She was sure her wielding skills had helped to convince them that she needed less security.

As she walked down the hall, nodding to the guards she passed, she couldn't help the smile that bloomed. Jasper. He wasn't so bad, was he? Indeed, he seemed to have taken his vow to treat her better very seriously.

He still had his moments, of course, but then again, so did she. Besides, she found his protectiveness and sometimes overbearing nature... charming, nowadays.

You're getting comfortable, just like they want, that wicked voice whispered in her head.

And so what if I am? She shot back. The memory of Jasper's mouth on hers and his hands on her body was still so fresh. Her body still tingled where he'd touched her.

Let me have this, she told that part of herself angrily. I'll probably be dead in a few years, anyway, so let me have this.

Because that was still the reality, wasn't it? She could grow to care deeply for Jasper, grow to love him even, to want to bear his children, but when that first child failed to have magic...

She was only ever going to have a limited amount of time here, be it the war that kills her or the king himself.

The thought was more sobering than it usually was.

Perhaps because now the thought of fleeing and leaving Jasper behind wasn't as appealing.

Movement at the end of the hallway snapped Kindra out of her thoughts.

Ahead of her, a cloaked figure was creeping down the hall, staying in the shadows. Kindra's magic prickled in her fingers, and she looked around, only to find that in this stretch of the third floor, there were no guards. They'd rounded the corner already, continuing on their patrol. The next patrol would be coming into view in just a few minutes if Kindra's recollection about their patterns was correct.

But whoever this person was seemed to know that too, moving silently and quickly towards a door. It was plain; Kindra had never noticed it before.

Kindra ducked into the arch of a doorway and poked her head out slightly, watching as the dark figure got closer and closer to their destination.

She was only fifteen, maybe twenty feet from them, but she still hadn't been seen. What would have happened if she'd brought a guard with her, like the rest of the Annalindises? Would this person be getting arrested right now?

Distantly, Kindra heard the low murmur of voices, and by the way the figure tensed, they did too. Picking up their pace, they reached the door. As they did so, the hood of their cloak fell back an inch, revealing a flash of orange hair and a sliver of burnt skin.

Tess. It was Tess.

What the fuck? Kindra thought, alarm coursing through her as she watched Tesscarefully open the door and slip inside.

Kindra waited until the door closed behind her, then moved from her hiding place just as a patrol of guards rounded the corner. She smoothed her hands over her tunic and did her best to look unconcerned, walking leisurely down the hall.

"Good evening, Lady Kindra," one of them said as they passed her.

"Good evening," she replied, hoping her voice didn't betray her nerves. As soon as their footsteps faded and they turned the corner, leaving her alone again, she turned, hurrying back to the door.

Her magic pooling just under her skin, she opened it and found—

A broom closet.

"What?" She couldn't stop herself from saying it out loud.

It was a broom closet, mostly empty. Stone walls and floors, no windows.

Lighting a small flame in her palm, she scanned the tiny space."Tess?" she hissed.

There was no place for Tess to be hiding.

But she was still nowhere to be found.