18. Keira
Chapter 18
Keira
I rise with the sun, pulling on a frilly white blouse, a cream cotton corset trimmed in gold, and white skirts parted for riding. I glance at myself in the tall mirror I share with the other women, inspecting my armor. The mask of a priestess dedicating herself to her temple, not a wanton creature, leaving the king for a fae lover.
Armies stand for the facade I wear, but if they learned the truth? They would abandon me to my fate in a heartbeat.
Horns blast through the keep, the sound long and low, repeated three times, announcing an approaching army. My heart stops, and I lift my narrow skirts and run out the door.
I reach the top of the battlements, panting hard. Caitlin stands at its center point, wearing her usual attire of narrow-cut britches, a long tunic and boiled leather armor that covers her entire chest and back, with panels extending over her hips. The bow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back make me feel naked in comparison.
“Is he here?” I gasp. “Has Finan’s army arrived?”
Caitlin frowns at me. “Yes, and no.”
She points to the rolling lands that sprawl beyond the fortress, hedged on both sides by the craggy bases of the mountains. There is a black column darkening the horizon, but it doesn’t stretch on for leagues as his entire army surely would.
Far ahead of it and galloping fast is a cluster of horsemen, perhaps two dozen, with white banners trailing out behind them.
“My guess is that King Finan has arrived with a small force for negotiations, and Prince Niall is in that band at the forefront, probably planning to speak a few words of sense before his brother comes in and derails the entire thing,” Caitlin says.
Gwyneth approaches, the metal plate of her full suit of armor clanging with each step. She gives me a curt nod, then places a hand on the bulge of Caitlin’s belly, right where the laces of her leather bodice are stretched and the seam distorted.
“How easy it would be to shoot the king from here and avoid hearing his bullshit,” Gwyneth muses.
“Gods, I would love to be the one to fire the arrow.” Caitlin glances up at her. “But it would only make the war worse.”
We stand in muted silence as we watch that advance party grow closer, until individual riders resolve and the clumps of grass the horses’ hooves kick up become visible. The purple capes billowing behind them, the royal guard’s trimmings and badges on their armor—it all makes my stomach roll and sends ice-cold dread through my blood as it triggers the traumatic memories of my time in the royal palace.I grip the rampart so hard my knuckles turn white.
The riders only slow as they enter the range of our archers.
Caitlin gives the call, and they nock arrows and aim, holding the threat. It isn’t until the royal party reaches the immense gate that now barricades the way into the North that my father and Aldrin crest the top of the stairs and join us. My father’s face is flushed, and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Aldrin smirks at his back. The exchange tells me they have been training together again to break through my father’s block.
“Whatever he says, do not show any weakness and do not back down,” my father murmurs into my ear as he stands by my side. “We show a strong, unified front.”
The soldiers pull up to a sudden stop, their mounts prancing beneath them. The man in their center captures my attention immediately. He is lean of build and short in stature, with a thin golden circlet molded around his elaborately engraved steel helmet.
My heart stops as he pulls it off his head, and blue-black curls tumble out. My eyes show me Finan, right there beneath me, and it sends me into a spiral of panic. Then I register the harder, gaunter lines of his face and the seriousness of his eyes. Prince Niall is before us, white flags flapping around him.
“I come here in peace, to speak with the Lord Protector Edmund and Lady Keira.” The prince’s words echo out.
“I am listening if you wish to speak.” My father uses a wield of magic to project his voice. “But there is no Lady Keira. Not anymore. The Mother of Magic Keira stands beside me.” My father takes my elbow and leads me to the edge of the parapet, where we can be seen.
Niall’s eyes scan us for a long moment, then he leans toward the man beside him and they exchange a few words. The druid Murdoc is with him, the king’s adviser. It is hard to read their expressions from such a distance, but their bodies seem so rigid.
“King Finan has accepted your request to meet for negotiations for a peaceful resolution,” Niall shouts. “He hopes to reach terms and avoid war.”
I glance at my father. “Did we request a negotiation with the king?”
“No, we did not.” He frowns down at the prince.
“Niall and his games.” Caitlin tosses her head. “That one is as wily as a snake.”
“He is clearly desperate for these negotiations, but he couldn’t suggest them to the king himself,” I muse. “Finan is hostile toward Niall having any political involvement. He has to pretend we requested them, then subtly encourage it.”
My father flicks a wrist to project his voice again. “We are glad to hear the king has accepted our request for negotiations.”
The tension melts from the prince’s shoulders. “The king will arrive and have his pavilion erected by midday,” he calls up to us. “I will return to personally escort you to the meeting.”
Niall turns his steed and canters away, his guard immediately moving as one with him.
We look to each other with varying levels of confusion.
“At least the king is willing to talk,” Gwyneth mutters.
“I fear we won’t like what he has to say,” my father replies.
“We won’t.” A sickness rolls through me, turning my stomach and sending bile up my throat.
“I demand to be at this meeting.” Aldrin’s simmering eyes are trained on me.
My father doesn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not.”
Caitlin places a hand on Aldrin’s arm. “They have mustered armies over rumors of fae men in our protectorate. We cannot shove the proof under their noses and expect them to negotiate with us.”
“What if this king snatches Keira during the negotiations and races her back to his main army?” Aldrin brims with restrained aggression. “I need to be there to make sure that doesn’t happen. None of your other soldiers will fight for her like I will.”
My father’s temper flares. “I will be there to protect her.”
“I am right here,” I snap. “And I can speak for myself.” My father glares murder at me, but I don’t balk. “Aldrin comes to this meeting and shows the king that we have loyal fae backing. We hold this fortress as a show of force to the king—why not truly intimidate him? The truth will be revealed soon enough, anyway.”
There is a pause, then my father takes a step closer to Aldrin, their faces inches apart as he asks in a deadly low tone, “And who exactly do we say you are to Keira?”
The unspoken undercurrent is clear to all of us. Who do you think you are to her? What promises have been made between you?
Aldrin gives a self-satisfied smirk and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “We will tell Finan that Aldrin is my bodyguard. He doesn’t need to know the truth,” I blurt out, because I cannot handle the hostile tension between them.
“Which is what, exactly?” my father spits. I glance over his shoulder at Aldrin, who raises an eyebrow at me.
“Which is something we haven’t worked out yet, because you won’t allow me to speak with him for more than a few moments.” I poke a finger in his chest.
Literal fire burns within my father’s eyes as they narrow on me. “You can’t be seen together. It will?—”
“Ruin the war effort. Yeah. I get it.” I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.
Caitlin grabs our father’s arm and drags him away. “We need to call a war meeting and discuss strategy with the other lords and the countess.” She slaps Aldrin on the arm and gives him a grin as she tugs our father past.
“And I suppose you are planning on coming to these bloody dangerous negotiations while pregnant?” My father pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I am the commander of your army,” she hisses back. “Of course I am coming.”
His voice reaches us as he disappears down the stairs. “You girls are going to put me into an early grave. All these years I thought Diarmuid was the troublemaker.”
Aldrin leans against the railing, watching me. His dark hair is pulled back into a knot and the breeze brushes strands of it across his face. “So…what exactly are we?” A smug grin splits his lips.
I glance over my shoulder to see that Gwyneth has disappeared. “Lovers?” I tease.
His face turns serious, and he moves toward me with lightning speed, tipping my chin up and forcing me to look into his amber eyes as he towers over me. His humor is gone.“We are more than lovers.”
“Why don’t you tell me what we are, then, if you know everything?” I breathe.
His stare doesn’t break away from mine. “I know what I want us to be. I have told you already.” He trails his thumb over my lips. “I want to hear it from you.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “I want everything from you, Aldrin. Your heart, your soul, your life. I want to be there for every happy moment and hold you through each struggle. I never want to be parted from you again. But I can’t make you promises when the future is so uncertain, when we cannot even be seen together. When I don’t know if he will win his war and take me again.”
Aldrin grips my shoulders tightly as his eyes darken. “I won’t allow him to win, Keira. Not even if I have to put a realm into desolation and murder a king.”
I sigh. “I know you will.”
“I badly want to kiss you right now, but…”
“But you would probably end up with multiple arrow shafts protruding from your body for the third time since entering this realm,” I finish for him.
“Yeah. That.” Aldrin doesn’t take his eyes off me. “I would marry you right here, right now, if you pointed me to an officiant.”
I put my hand on his chest. “Aldrin…”
“Why not?” he asks, eyes ablaze.
“I want to do it properly. Not when my father hates you and my grandmother is still potentially murderous, and my former bethrothed is trying to kidnap me because he thinks he has a claim to me. I don’t want to marry with an army on our doorstep.” A tear rolls down my face. “Especially not when we would have to keep it a secret.”
“I don’t care about them. I just want you.” His thumbs brush over my cheeks and I almost crumble into his arms. The urge to cave and give him what he wants is incredibly strong.
“I care.”
I untangle myself from his grip and pull him to the stairs that lead down from the battlements, toward the meeting room. We almost don’t make it to the war council. The temptation to find another closest and rip each other’s clothes off almost overcomes us.
The meeting almost erupts into yelling chaos multiple times as we move pieces around the great map sprawled out across the table and reevaluate our situation.
“Perhaps the king has heard of our stand here and is balking already at the idea of war,” Countess Lynna suggests, not for the first time.
“Or he plans to snatch Keira and retreat,” Aldrin grumbles.
“He cannot! To break the oaths of peace during a negotiation would not be tolerated!” Lord Bradford cries.
“Just like disrespecting the sacred vows of a Mother of Magic?” my grandmother bites out, and the lord falls silent.
“I know Finan better than anyone here,” I venture. “He is the most unpredictable person I have ever met. We can’t anticipate his whims, but Lord Desmond is a rational schemer. He plans several moves in advance and wouldn’t do something as rash as kidnapping me. It would turn the people against him. Not all the lords have pledged their support to the king, and they still need those in the midlands and the South of Strathia placated to have a path open for their retreat to Sunbright City.”
“And you’re sure you will not marry the king?” Lord Tomas asks in a high-pitched voice. “It could avoid a war.”
Every single person around the table shoots him a dark look, and for a moment I think Aldrin is going to launch himself across the table and end him. He would have to get there before my father, who wears a similar expression.
“This war is about more than just a marriage proposal!” my grandmother spits. “It is about the autonomy of every priestess. Of every lord and lady being able to control their own destiny. You will never suggest that my granddaughter marry that mad king again.”
Lord Tomas holds up his hands, jowls flapping as he speaks. “Okay. Okay. I thought it prudent to ask.”
I am so sick of his snide comments and digs to get a reaction that makes him feel like a big, powerful man. As I open my mouth to tell Lord Tomas as much, the heavy double doors swing open, and we all whip around.
Klara and Silvan all but carry Drake into the room, lifting him under each arm. He can hardly walk on his own. Aldrin leaps from his seat and grabs Drake, depositing him in a chair at the table, then squatting before him.
“Do you have the answer?” Aldrin says softly, and Drake nods, almost tipping forward.
My father stands abruptly and his seat clatters as it tips over. “What happened to you, man? Were you attacked?”
“By the gods, I will set the executioner on whoever harmed him,” my grandmother chimes in. “These fae are under my protection!”
I rush from my seat and pour a cup of water for Drake from the side table, not trusting the precision of my air magic as Aldrin does. I tuck the cup into Drake’s hand.“He is suffering from severe magic depletion,” I toss over my shoulder.
Already Aldrin, Klara and Silvan are channeling their healing powers into Drake. His eyes finally focus, and he groans, rolling his neck and making the joints pop.
“I feel like the entire Wild Hunt rode over the top of me,” he mumbles. “I sat in the same position for a day and two nights.”
“What did you find on your travels?” I urge him.
“Where did he go?” My father’s angry rumble sounds right behind me. “I did not give any of my soldiers permission to leave this fortress.”
Drake laughs at that. “Physically? I never left my chambers. I sent out my consciousness to the winds and traveled across your realm until I found your enemy and took a good look at their approaching army.”
“Fae can do that?” Countess Lynna asks with awe.
“This one can,” Drake retorts.
“It is rare in our kind,” Klara adds, looking down at her husband with pride.
“Drake. Give us your report,” Aldrin cuts in.
My heart races as Drake takes a sip of his water to stall. His eyes find mine, and there is sadness in them. “Two forces are approaching—the smaller one that is almost upon us for the negotiations, maybe a thousand soldiers strong, and a second that appears to be a week or two away, with around ten thousand soldiers. I saw seven banners, including the king’s, but I picked up bits of conversation that alluded to them recruiting more.”
The room turns deadly silent. No one even dares to breathe as we take in those facts. My blood turns to ice and my chest constricts painfully around my pounding heart. It feels like a wild animal is trying to claw its way out of my ribcage.
Lord Adalwolf breaks the silence. “How many soldiers do we have?”
“Six thousand,” my father says. “Near half their number.”
“We have control of the fortresses.” Caitlin points to our current location on the map with the tip of the dagger she was spinning in her hand. “We have intimate knowledge of the terrain, and our soldiers are all fighting for the survival of their homes and families. Those facts make a huge difference. A warrior fights harder when they have more to lose.”
“More of my fae warriors are on offer if you will have them.” Aldrin stares down each person in the room.
“I have already said it once. I can guarantee the conduct of the fae Aldrin speaks of,” Caitlin says.
“As can I.” I rise from Drake’s side and return my seat at the table. “We need the help the fae are offering. If we want to trust them in trade agreements, we must also trust them to enter our realm.”
“And how do we know these fae won’t betray us once they are here?” Lord Tomas argues, spit flying from his mouth. “That they won’t do and take what they like when we are at our most vulnerable?”
“It is a risk,” Lord Adalwolf mutters.
Aldrin stands and leans over the table, every muscle in his thick arms rippling. “Do you think we high fae can’t enter this realm at will? That we can’t open every single portal whenever we want and waltz through? I am asking permission because we want an alliance. I will only summon fae to this war who are loyal to me and will do my bidding.”
“And how can we know you won’t betray us? You were just pulled out of Lord Edmund’s dungeons after all, were you not? Harboring any resentments?” Lord Tomas’ eyes dart around the room as he tries to gain the support of the others. “What’s to say you won’t betray us?”
I scowl at him as dozens of retorts fly through my mind, but Countess Lynna’s gentle laugher throws me off balance.
“Can you not see it, Tomas? Are you truly that blind?” A thrill dances in her large eyes as she examines Aldrin, and there is a pretty pink flush across her cheeks that makes her look much younger than a woman in her late thirties.
“See what?” Tomas’ head turns from Aldrin to Lynna and back.
“Lord Aldrin is in love with the priestess Keira.” She spreads her arms wide. “I thought we all knew this and were too polite to say anything.”
My lips part, but all words die on my tongue. My stomach tumbles as heat floods my face, and it only worsens as my father shoots me a dark look.
Aldrin sends me an apologetic smile, but his eyes blaze as they drink me in. Lynna’s smile widens as though it is all the confirmation she needs.
Tomas stares at Aldrin as though he has never seen him before. Maybe he believed the fae to be unfeeling, or wasn’t able to humanize them enough to expect emotions and vulnerabilities from them. “Love hasn’t stopped a man from betraying people,” he says. “Especially when he realizes he won’t get what he wants.”
“Ah, but my dear Tomas, you don’t know how the fae love.” Lynna’s eyes turn distant, as though she remembers her own fae lover. “Even in unrequited love like this, they will stop at nothing to protect the one they love. It is why they have a brutal, vicious reputation. They kill and die for their love. They live their entire lives worshipping them, even if they never get that love back.”
Lord Tomas opens his mouth, but the countess waves him off.
“And yes, some become crazed and feral, and take a woman to lock her away, but it seems Aldrin here has had ample opportunity to do that and hasn’t. It means he will never betray Keira, and never do a thing that would bring her grief, like stealing her away and abandoning her family to this war. Does that sound familiar, Lord Aldrin?”
Aldrin gives her a smirk, but doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “You’re missing a few details, but close enough.”
Lord Adalwolf chuckles darkly, running a hand over his bald head. “So that explains why Edmund here looks like he will burst a blood vessel whenever Lord Aldrin is in the room.”
I think I will die. Combust into flames right here from the sheer mortification of these people discussing my love life. They have no idea how much truly lies between us, and I have to wonder if they would take it with the same knowing laughs if they knew the truth.
“Back to the matter at hand. Please,” my father growls. “Before I do burst a blood vessel.”
I shuffle awkwardly in my seat, and Caitlin leans in to whisper in my ear. “You are playing the part perfectly, by the way. Don’t let them catch the truth of you both until they are committed to the war, by deed as well as word.”
Lord Bradford props his elbows on the table, interweaving his hands and examining me over them. “As much as I hate to disturb this most entertaining development…” he says with a huge grin, earning a playful smack from Lynna. He grabs her offending hand, then kisses it. “My dear Lynna, men have gone to war over such a strike between houses.” He drags his gaze back to me and Aldrin. “As I was about to say before Lynna’s most vicious attack, I would like to vote in favor of Lord Aldrin recruiting more fae soldiers for this war, if we do not reach an agreement of peace with the king.”
Intense hope floods me. We might stand a chance, if they learn to trust Aldrin. I’m too scared to speak, to stop the momentum of this moment.
“I also vote in favor,” Countess Lynna quickly adds. “Peace or no, I hope you stick around for diplomatic discussions, Lord Aldrin.”
“It seems we need the fae, and I’m curious to see what they can do in a battle,” Lord Adalwolf agrees. “I also vote in favor.”
My grandmother raises her hand. “I vote in favor.”
All eyes turn to Lord Tomas. He looks like he has bitten into something sour. “It’s not like it matters what I vote for.”
“The motion passes, then,” my father says, returning to the table. “Assuming we cannot resolve the issue with the coming negotiations, Aldrin will have more of his fae soldiers pass into this realm and join us in this war.”