Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 49

They did not breathe a word of what they’d discovered to anybody.

Nobody could know. Not Helena or Emeline. Not even her mother, who Kindra could tell knew something was amiss but had wisely learned a long time ago not to press her daughter about such things.

It was bad enough—catastrophic, really—that the king already knew or at least strongly suspected. But Kindra had no doubt he’d poured over those journals more than once since she arrived in Wendrith. He’d likely figured it out months ago.

At the very least, wedding preparations were in full swing. The wedding was little more than two weeks after the Solstice Ball. Kindra hadn’t realized how soon it was, but two days after the ball—the day after her discovery—her daily schedule was completely changed. Gone were the hours-long morning training sessions and leisurely afternoons. Her days were now filled with all things wedding-related. From cake tastings with Emeline’s father to dress fittings with Mabyl, every hour from dusk to dawn was booked. All the while, more nobility than she’d ever seen descended upon the castle, hailing from cities all across the kingdom. The place was filled to the rafters.

Kindra was lucky if she got an hour at the training grounds every few days. Even her nightly sword fighting lessons with Jasper had ground to halt, the two of them choosing instead to collapse into bed each evening after supper and do other things with their nights.

Lots of other things.

Oh, they were dignified enough during the day, but behind closed doors, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Kindra didn’t know what was wrong with her; it was like some part of her had gone completely feral. She spent each day counting down to when she’d get him alone again.

But their time together was more than that. It was also what grounded her, what reminded her that all the lessons and fittings and tastings she was enduring would be worth it.

At the end of it, he would be hers, and she his, officially.

She looked forward to her wedding day for that reason only. At least she had that; at least she had him by her side. Sometimes, when she looked at him, she felt that no matter what happened in the years to come, if she had him next to her, together, they could conquer all of it.

That was love, she knew. But she still hadn’t even uttered the words.

She and Jasper didn’t speak about her being God-blessed. There was nothing to be done about it. They hadn’t even truly discussed not telling anybody else—they just knew, without a doubt, that nobody else could know.

And so, the days passed. And so, they kept their secret.

“No, no, no. It is one , two, three, not one, two , three!”

Gregory’s voice cut over the quartet of musicians, who halted their playing. Kindra and Jasper stopped mid-waltz, and Kindra had to inhale deeply to keep herself from scorching the etiquette master’s head off. Jasper gave her waist a gentle squeeze.

There was a week left until the wedding, and the powers that be had started scheduling etiquette lessons for the marital couple. She had no idea if it had been the king, the Council, or some other official who’d ordered it. Regardless, the two-hour daily sessions left Kindra fuming.

Gregory was fucking insufferable. Like Cerulle, he hailed from Roulierne, and had a similar accent to the Windspinner. Unlike Cerulle, however, his voice was grating and snobbish. If it were any more nasal, he’d probably start talking out his nose.

Gregory was an older man, probably in his sixties. Not a Wielder, but Kindra learned quickly that the etiquette master did not need magic as a weapon—no, he was quite gifted enough with his words.

The first session with him had been more humiliating than any defeat she’d experienced while training. Through subtle verbal jabs and scathing critiques, he’d reduced her to a quivering, demoralized bundle of misery in the span of an hour. She’d ended the lesson early. Jasper had been mortified.

“Your Highness, I offered to help with her when she arrived,” Gregory had told Jasper as she’d stormed out. “Now we are pressed for time with much to do. I will not apologize for being thorough.”

Everything she did marked her as poor and uneducated, apparently. The way she held her silverware. The way she sat in a chair. The way she fucking chewed.

She’d thought she’d been doing a good job. How hard was it to sit up straight, after all? But nothing she did was good enough for Gregory.

“Maybe you should have had me take lessons with him when I first got here like he said, Jasper,” she pouted one night. “Then at least I could’ve gotten this humiliation over with.”

“Kindra, do you think you could have sat through one of those sessions back then?” Jasper all but laughed in her face at the thought. “You would have killed him.” He reached across the bed and ran his fingers through her hair. “Nobody would have blamed you, though. Pretty much everybody hates Gregory.”

“Why is he still here, then?”

“Well, darling,” he sighed. “We all hate him, but nobody can say that he’s not good at his job.”

And he was good at his job. Within a matter of days Kindra was carrying herself in a manner he deemed satisfactory. Gregory’s snide commentary subsided. But then they moved on to the dancing, and his brutal scrutiny returned.

She knew the dancing would be rough; she hardly had any experience. Her dancing at the Solstice Ball hadn’t been anything extraordinary—a fact Gregory wasted no time reminding her of.

“Did you see how Antone and Celeste danced? That is my work. You will create art in that ballroom on your wedding day.” That had been his promise at the start of their first dance lesson.

But now, three days in, even Gregory was starting to accept that passable was the best he was going to get out of the couple, though his idea of passable was still unreasonable .

“Do you not feel the pulse of the waltz in your body?” he snapped at them.

“We were on beat,” Kindra retorted, patience wearing thin.

“On beat, sure, but you do not feel it. There is no swell and ebb in your moves, no musicality.” Gregory tsked and leveled a disapproving glare at Jasper. “I trained you to dance myself, Your Highness. Her lack of artistry I can understand, but you? I expected better.”

“Is this a wedding or a talent show?” she huffed. “The waltz is fine.”

Gregory was unmoved. “Lady Kindra, it seems you still do not understand. I may appear to you as scrutinous and excessive, but I am here for a reason. In less than a week, you are to be a princess. More than that, you are renowned as the cursebreaker, and, as I’ve heard it, rumored to be God-blessed.” She barely managed to stifle her wince. He continued, though now his voice was a touch gentler, “Whether you like it or not, you have a reputation to uphold now. You must appear to the people as invincible, in every sense. You cannot do that if you can’t hold your own against the nobility. Even now, though they respect your power, they mock you behind closed doors. You are still a commoner to them—a powerful one, yes, but common, nonetheless. The lords and ladies who are traveling from the other cities in Alverin have not been witness to your sparring matches. They do not know you. So, your wedding is indeed a pageant of some sort. If you swallow your pride and allow me to do my job, we can quiet their whispers in a single evening. Hate me all you want, but I am on your side.”

Kindra blinked, stunned. “Have they still not accepted me?”

Gregory gave her a sympathetic grimace. “They regard you the same way they regard Alverin’s fiercest warriors. But it will take more than great displays of power to get them to fully embrace you as their princess, unfortunately.”

“Superficial,” she muttered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Very much so. But you must learn to play the game, my Lady. I did.”

The next time he corrected her steps, Kindra bit her tongue. And she continued to bite it as the etiquette master used his own, unique kind of magic, honing her into a weapon of a different sort.

A kind of weapon she’d never had to be, but a weapon nonetheless.

The night before the wedding, Jasper and Kindra spent the night apart. It was tradition. They shared an intimate dinner together, and after a couple hours spent tangled up in each other, he kissed her goodnight.

“Tomorrow, you become my wife,” he whispered against her lips. Despite her many anxieties surrounding the occasion, she smiled at his words.

After he departed, she visited her mother, who’d been just as busy the last few weeks with her own schedule of lessons and fittings. Her wedding to Kindra’s father had been a simple affair—both of them were the last of their families at the time, so it had been a small event with little fanfare. A royal wedding, however, was the opposite of that in every sense. She’d spent a lot of time learning the ins and outs of the ceremony.

“Are you excited?” Sera asked her daughter, relaxing on the sofa in her chambers.

Kindra nodded. “I am. I’m still frightened about a lot of things, but I’m excited to marry him.”

Her mother smiled. “If you have love, you can conquer anything.”

Kindra’s throat grew tight at the words. She was keeping so much from her. It was for her mother’s safety, but still.

“I hope so,” she replied, opting for a bit of honesty. “With the war and the curse, sometimes I worry it won’t be.”

Her mother squeezed Kindra’s hand. “Don’t worry about such things tonight. What’s important is that you get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. A beautiful day, but a long one.”

Kindra chuckled. “Long is right. The rehearsal this morning made that very clear.” The ceremony alone was over an hour. Most of it didn’t even directly involve Kindra or Jasper—the exchanging of their vows took a mere fifteen minutes—but the processions, the prayers… it all added up.

She left her mother’s rooms and headed back to her own. When she arrived, however, she was greeted by a familiar face.

“Tess,” she said by way of greeting, unable to hide her surprise. “Is something wrong?”

The Firefury smirked. “Is it that unusual for one to pay her friend a visit the night before her wedding? ”

Kindra laughed. “No, I suppose not. Would you like to come in? I need to go to sleep soon, but I can talk for a while.”

Tess nodded. “That would be lovely. I won’t bother you for long. But I like to have a drink with my friends on the eve of their wedding. As a token of my well wishes, of sorts.”

The two Firefuries entered Kindra’s rooms and headed for the fireplace. Kindra went to a table and poured them each a glass of wine while Tess took in her chambers.

“These are certainly something,” she commented, taking a glass from Kindra as they settled into the chairs by the hearth.

“I know.” They clinked their glasses, and Kindra took a sip. “It took me a while to adjust to waking up in here every morning.” She frowned. “Have you really never been in here?” For a second, she couldn’t believe it. But Tess had been distant and outright missing for much of the recent months. Only in the last few weeks had they begun to rekindle any type of real friendship.

Tess shook her head, eyes flashing. She was clearly thinking the same thing. Rather than commenting on it, though, she took a long drink of her wine. They sat in a comfortable silence.

“Do you truly care for him?” Tess asked suddenly.

Kindra turned to face her. “Jasper?”

“Who else?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yes. I do.” What a strange, abrupt question.

“Is it enough?”

Kindra laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”

Tess shrugged, swirling her wine in her glass before taking another drink. “I mean, is it enough to make up for what you’ve lost? What you could’ve had?”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a minute. Then, “I don’t know. Sometimes, when it’s just the two of us, it feels like it is. But outside of that, when we can’t ignore everything…” She shook her head. “I suppose a part of me will always wish it was different. Jasper understands.”

Tess nodded. “I’m sure he does.”

Again, another stretch of silence, this one less comfortable than the first. Tess broke it once more. “You could be so much more, Kindra.” She met Kindra’s gaze unflinchingly. Her orange eyes glowed in the light of the fire.

“What more could I be?” Kindra tried for humor, but she was starting to feel uneasy. Tess was always bringing this up, whatever it meant. “I’m already a princess and a cursebreaker. I doubt I could juggle much else.”

Tess didn’t take the bait. “You could be a true savior of this realm, if you wished to be.”

Kindra shook her head and drained her glass. “You overestimate my power.” She wanted to stop talking about this.

“I think you underestimate it, actually.”

“This doesn’t feel like a friendly pre-wedding drink,” Kindra commented lightly, but her voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

Tess noted the warning but did not heed it. “If you knew, beyond a doubt, that you could change the fate of not only this kingdom, but this entire continent, would you do it? Or would you still deny who you are? Would you still hide?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied, growing more unsettled. “And I know exactly who I am, Tess.”

“Do you? Because I look at you, and I see a once-in-millennia power.” Kindra tried to interrupt her, but Tess barreled on fervently. “I see the first God-blessed Firefury since Queen Scalya herself.” Kindra couldn’t help it—she recoiled, and Tess smirked triumphantly. “So, I’m right after all.”

“Please stop,” Kindra whispered, head spinning. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have right now.” Or ever.

“I was in the library the day you spent holed up in the king’s little secret room. I saw the look on your face as you left that night, too stricken by whatever it was you’d learned to even notice you were being watched. Figured I’d take a guess at what it might have been, given the conversation we’d had that morning.” A vicious grin slashed across her face. “I’m so glad I guessed correctly.”

“Tess, please,” Kindra begged. “You can’t tell anybody.”

“Do you take me for a fool? I would never do such a thing. Gods know what the king would do with this kind of knowledge.”

“He already knows,” she confessed, and Tess’s eyes widened. “He figured it out long before any of us did. ”

Tess shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You could still change everything if you just use your power—”

“I will never call on Scaldor,” Kindra snarled, patience finally snapping. She stood and glared down at the other woman. “I’ve had enough of this. I need to rest.” She reached down and all but yanked Tess’s glass out of her hand, not caring that it wasn’t yet empty.

Thankfully, Tess didn’t argue further. She only gave Kindra a long, remorseful look as she rose and headed to the door.

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t try. I won’t bother you with this any longer, Kindra.” She paused, hand on the doorknob. “Best wishes for tomorrow. Good night.”

And then she let herself out, leaving Kindra irritated and unsettled, her words hanging like a heavy, ominous cloud over the room.