Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 44

Kindra stared at King Leofric’s outstretched hand, head spinning from his invitation.

The weight of dozens of stares rested on her shoulders, heavy and expectant. Jasper stepped back from her side, leaving her alone.

A dance with the king.

Though she wanted to say no, she didn’t have any other option, did she? So she smiled as brightly as she could despite the knots twisting in her stomach and placed her hand in his.

He smiled approvingly, a terrifying thing, and swiftly pulled her into position. A second later, the musicians resumed their playing, and the music quickly swelled into a lush waltz. Leofric began to lead, and she could do nothing but try her best to keep up as he spun them across the dance floor.

The first minute of the dance was nearly unbearable, as neither of them spoke. Kindra did her best to not look terrified under his gaze. He regarded her with his usual sharp intensity, as if even this dance was some sort of test.

Then he began to talk, and that was far worse than the silence.

“If I may, Lady Kindra,” he began, “I must say that you have become quite a beacon of hope for Alverin during this time.”

“Oh,” she breathed, trying to focus on dancing and speaking at the same time, which was not quite as easy as it was with Jasper. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I’m greatly anticipating all of the ways you will continue to instill that strength in our kingdom,” he continued, his smile lupine .

“Yes,” she managed, nearly missing a step and crushing his toes. “I am as well.”

His eyes drifted to the crown she wore. “I’m very pleased to see you heeded my request.”

She dipped her head in a small nod. “I was happy to do so,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “Though, I am curious about its origins. I’ve gotten no shortage of strange looks tonight for wearing it.” She gave him what she hoped was an innocent smile.

King Leofric’s mouth twisted in what she assumed was a smirk. “Yes, I imagine you would have. I’m surprised you do not know it—do you not recall?”

Baffled, Kindra shook her head. “No, Your Majesty, I don’t.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t know to look for it unless you were told,” he admitted. “The diadem you wear is ancient—one of Alverin’s most prized artifacts. It belonged to Queen Scalya Annalindis. The first Queen of Alverin.”

Kindra couldn’t hide her stumble then, though the king recovered them both smoothly. Vaguely, she remembered seeing the diadem before: the painting of the queen, in the king’s chambers. She’d been wearing it. “Your Majesty—” she stammered. “Your Majesty, surely I am not worthy of such an honor.”

“It was Queen Scalya who carried the greatest portion of our power, actually,” Leofric told her, ignoring her protests. “King Novon was powerful, yes, an extraordinary Wielder, but Queen Scalya was… well, it’s in her name, is it not? Scalya.”

“Scaldor,” Kindra murmured. “She was the one who was God-blessed?”

“Yes,” the king replied. “He came to her frequently. Over time, that detail was forgotten. It did not matter so much, after all. She was as equal a founder of our kingdom as King Novon—if not more so. King Novon established our place on this continent, but our history of expansion did not really begin until she joined him on the throne. It was her vision that pushed Alverin to greatness.”

“To never-ending war?” she said, unable to stop herself. A foolish retort, and she braced herself for his rebuke. But Leofric only tilted his head thoughtfully, his grip on her tightening slightly .

“It was not supposed to be this way, Lady Kindra.” His voice was so soft, she had to lean closer just to hear him over the music. “Novon and Scalya dreamed of a unified continent. That was what Alverin aimed for—has always aimed for, even though the rest of this land reviles us for it.”

She remained silent, biting her tongue. He spun her out in a circle, her dress billowing around her. When he pulled her back to him, he said, “You may voice your thoughts. I will not cart you to the dungeons.” He chuckled, as if that wasn’t a very real outcome he often threatened and saw through.

But Kindra took advantage of the opportunity, though each word felt like another shovel of dirt dug for her grave. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I think the concept of a unified continent, ruled by one family, when multiple kingdoms already existed there… there was no way it wouldn’t have gone badly. We have taken miles upon miles of land, and millions of people from all kingdoms have died because of the wars we have fought in our efforts to expand. It doesn’t matter that Alverin is a great kingdom; it doesn’t matter what dreams we might have for Istreria. To them, we are nothing more than brutal conquerors.” She cleared her throat, looking down. “Your Majesty.”

King Leofric didn’t speak for a few moments, and they danced in silence. As they spun, she saw Jasper dancing with her mother, the two of them each keeping one eye on her the whole time.

Kindra dared to look at the king. He did not appear angry—no murderous intent glowed in his eyes, no grimace or snarl on his features. Still, she felt her knees shake slightly.

“It has been a long time since somebody dared be so honest with me about their thoughts on our kingdom’s history,” he finally said.

“I apologize, Your Maje—” she began quickly, but he cut her off.

“Your eyes—they are so brilliantly gold.” He blinked, and awe briefly crossed his face, as if he was just now really seeing her, for the first time. But as quickly as it had appeared, the expression vanished, replaced by one far more thoughtful. Calculating.

“It’s my training,” she replied, unsure of what, exactly, to say.

“They say Queen Scalya’s eyes burned like molten gold, that they glowed and swirled when she wielded her fire. Even the greatest of painters could not capture it.” He spoke more to himself than her, but the words rocked through her regardless. The musicians were still playing, their feet still moving across the dance floor, but she hardly registered any of it.

“I’m just a girl from Harthwin, Your Majesty,” she murmured, hating his expression: one of awe and hope and greed—and just a kernel of fear. Of wariness.

It was that tiny kernel that scared her the most. Helena had warned her of it months ago, after she bested Ryle in front of him and the Council. Jasper had, too, the night before she was introduced to his parents. My family isn’t exactly rational when faced with something they don’t know how to control, he’d said. And when did she become that? When did she change from a marvel to a threat? Was she already too close to the line? Had she already, unknowingly, crossed it?

“Don’t play those bashful games with me. We both know you are far more than that, Lady Kindra.” There was a coldness in his voice now that had alarm bells ringing in Kindra’s head. Yes, she was indeed dangerous close to crossing that line.

The waltz, mercifully, came to an end. How long had that dance lasted? It felt as though she’d been trapped with the king for hours. Leofric stepped back from her, dropping his hands. He bowed his head to her, and she dipped into a low curtsy. “Thank you for the dance, Your Majesty,” she said.

King Leofric hummed, deep in his throat. “And thank you.” His eyes glanced past her shoulder, where she knew Jasper hovered. “You may return to my son. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, he made his way to the dais, where Queen Cordilya already sat. He took his place upon his gilded throne, and laid a hand on his wife’s arm, stroking her bare skin softly.

Jasper was at her side immediately. “What did he say to you? You look sick.”

Kindra shook her head. “Later. I’ll tell you later.” She turned to him, and offered what she hoped was a passable smile. “Dance with me?”

Gently, he gathered her into his arms as the music began again, a fast-paced tune that had Kindra nervous. “Try and keep up,” her betrothed said with a grin, and then they were flying across the dance floor .

And though she danced and drank and laughed the rest of the evening, she felt the king’s gaze searing into her more than once. His dance with her had been a test of some kind, she knew that much.

But she had no idea if it was a test she’d passed or failed.