Lost Heir (Blood Weaver Trilogy #2)

Chapter 23

23

A s we ventured deeper into Keldara on horseback, the landscape transformed from the lush forests of Valoria to an austere terrain marked by its stark beauty. Keldara was a nation carved out of necessity and survival, its people as resilient as the land itself. Every village and town we passed was a testament to its military foundation—a nation perpetually prepared for the possibility of conflict.

The streets of each settlement were orderly, with soldiers patrolling in regular intervals. Despite the military presence, a sense of calm and efficiency permeated the air. The people of Keldara went about their daily lives with purpose, their respect for the soldiers evident in the way they greeted them with nods of acknowledgment.

Mykal led us through the heart of Keldara, passing training grounds where young warriors honed their skills. The sounds of clashing swords and shouting instructors coupled with the determined faces of the trainees provided a glimpse into the disciplined life of a Keldaran soldier.

“Discipline and duty are the cornerstones of life here,” Mykal explained as we rode. “Every citizen has a role to play in the defense of our nation. From a young age, they are taught the importance of serving Keldara.”

“Sounds more like brainwashing to me,” Ronan muttered beside me.

The stark, utilitarian architecture of the buildings reflected the nation's pragmatic approach to life. There was beauty in their simplicity, in the way they blended into the landscape, as if acknowledging that the true splendor of Keldara lay in its people and their unyielding spirit.

We’d been riding for a full day with Mykal telling us about the places we passed and the culture of Keldara before he asked about our purpose.

“I’m assuming you’re trying to reach the Grasslands.” Mykal finally broached the subject as he led the way. “I heard about the so-called assassination attempt, but I knew Ronan would never be capable of doing such a thing,” he smirked.

Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Do you really have spies in the palace?” I asked. It was the only way for him to learn what he did so quickly.

Mykal nodded. “I told you, Leila. I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“I don’t know if I find that reassuring or not,” I mumbled.

Mykal laughed. “In this case, you should. I expected you to cross the border. When I got your letter, I was already on my way.”

I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

“But I am curious…” Mykal peered over his shoulder at us. “Are you really going to acknowledge yourself as the lost heir? ”

My brows shot up to my hairline. “You know about that?”

He snorted. “I told you – nothing goes on in Asteria that I don’t know about.”

“Nosy bastard,” Ronan grumbled.

I glared at Ronan before addressing Mykal. “Honestly, I didn’t want to, but I was desperate back there.”

Mykal nodded slowly. “Caelan has been waiting a long time for you to return. If you’re named the Crown Princess, he won’t let you go easily.”

I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s all part of his plan,” he said slowly. “To unite all of Asteria under one nation—Eldwain’s.”

Shocked, I pulled on my horse’s reins to stop it. “What?” I gasped. “What do you mean?”

Ronan stopped beside me, and Mykal turned his horse around to face us. “Don’t you know? I figured your fae friend would have mentioned it.”

“My fae friend?” I repeated with furrowed brows. Instead of answering, Mykal made a noncommittal sound. I gaped at Ronan, hoping he could fill in the blanks.

“Orion,” Ronan clarified for me. “He’s talking about Orion.”

My eyes widened. “What does Orion have to do with any of this?”

Mykal chuckled as he leaned on the saddle’s pommel. “And here I thought you were best friends with the fae. I guess not.” He shrugged.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “For the love of the gods, can you get to the point, man?”

Mykal snorted. “All right, all right. Caelan acts like he’s not fighting for the Eldwain throne, but he secretly is. His backers are the Elders from Ellyndor, who have gathered a secret army to assist him. Right now, Caelan’s main mission is to marry into Valoria to acquire the lands. It’s the whole reason he wants to marry you, which means he won’t let you slip through his fingers so easily.”

I frowned. “Why are you telling us this?”

Mykal shrugged. “Because once Caelan conquers Valoria, he’ll come for Keldara and the Grasslands next. He’s already got the Central Plains in his pocket. Like I told you once before, Leila: you and I don’t need to be enemies.”

Ronan scoffed. “Right, because Keldara has always had Asteria’s best interest at heart,” he said sarcastically. “Didn’t you try to invade Valoria just ten years ago?”

Mykal nodded. “Yes, mistakes were made, but I’m hoping to correct them.”

Ronan looked away, his rigid posture belying the fact that he didn’t believe a single word Mykal said. “And what of the Crimson Clan? Will you continue to require tributes every year?”

Mykal’s eyes widened as he glanced between me and Ronan. “She knows?”

“Yes, I know ,” I said clearly. “Which makes your story about wanting to help us hard to believe.”

Mykal shrugged. “It’s an equal trade. The Crimson Clan needs war horses and weapons, and we need people. If you truly wish to end our partnership, you need to speak with Chief Aryan.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it!” Ronan growled.

Mykal sighed. “Very well. It’s obvious we won’t solve things here tonight, but it’s best if we don’t linger here for long. We still have a day’s trek to reach the capital. Come on.” He pulled his horse’s reins and trotted ahead, reclaiming his spot at the head of the line.

Ronan and I glanced at one another, unsure about Mykal’s claims. Even so, they held the ring of truth and things were starting to make sense. Now the only question was: How did we fix it?

As we neared the capital, the military presence became more pronounced. It was clear that the army was not a force of subjugation, but one of protection, deeply intertwined with the identity of Keldara itself.

“The King rules, but it is the military that safeguards our way of life,” Mykal declared, his voice carrying a tone of admiration.

In the capital, the streets were filled with people; it was where I got my first glimpse of Crimson Clan members. Their tattoos were visible, but what startled me was their shaved heads.

“Ronan?” I whispered, glancing over at him to see his jaw locked with the force of gritting his teeth. “Why …?”

“Our hair is very important to us,” he ground out. “Taking it away is like stripping away our identity. It’s barbaric .”

I glanced around, absorbing the stark contrast between the disciplined, uniformed soldiers and the Crimson Clan members who mingled among them. Their shaved heads served as a silent reminder of the tension that lay simmering beneath the surface of this military-run nation. Despite the apparent peace and order, it was clear that sacrifices had been made and identities were altered in the name of unity and defense.

As we moved through the bustling capital, the presence of the Crimson Clan members increased. Some walked with their heads held high, a soundless rebellion against their imposed loss; others moved with a subdued air, the weight of their lost identity casting a shadow over their steps. It was a powerful statement of resilience and resistance.

“Move!” a Keldaran soldier yelled as he cracked a whip against the back of a Crimson Clan woman. She screamed in agony and almost dropped the barrel of water she was carrying. “Hurry up! Move !”

“He—!” I started, but Ronan sent me a look and shook his head.

“Don’t interfere. It’ll only make it worse for them,” he muttered, his expression consumed with rage.

Many of the Crimson Clan members watched Ronan in awe as we trotted down the streets, silently begging him to save them. I watched Ronan avoid their gazes, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. I wanted to comfort him and tell him it would be okay, but that would be the biggest lie I’d ever told. The only way to free them from this enslavement was to resurrect the demon fox. And the only way to do that was to sacrifice me .

The idea gnawed at my insides as I watched his people being prodded like cattle. For the first time, I understood his desperation. Why he lied to me. This was their reality. For the first time … I wanted to help.

I snapped the reins, urging my horse to trot and catch up to Mykal. “How far are we from the Central Plains border?”

“About a day and a half. And then roughly two hours from the Grasslands border.” He peered over at me, then over his shoulder to where Ronan rode behind us. “You know you don’t have to go with him,” he whispered. “The Grasslands won’t be safe for you.”

I raised a brow. “Who said I’m going with him?”

Mykal smirked. “Well, if that’s the case, would you do me the honor of staying in Keldara as my guest? ”

I scoffed. “And you think I’d be safe here? I’m not that easily fooled.”

His grin widened. “See? That’s what I like about you. You’re a realist. But truly, Leila, you have my word. I will keep you safe.”

Feeling the weight of Mykal’s gaze, as well as Ronan’s on my back, I forced myself to keep my eyes trained straight ahead. I didn’t know what my plans were, but for now, my priority was getting Ronan to safety. “Just get us to the border as quickly as you can,” I muttered.

The remainder of our trip to the border was tense, the sense of urgency palpable. Each of us was lost in our own worries and hopes for the future as the landscape of Keldara unfolded before us—a mixture of rugged terrain and serene beauty. The military presence gradually lessened as we moved further from the capital, giving way to the plains of the Central Plains. The occasional patrols we encountered nodded respectfully to Mykal, though their curious gazes lingered upon Ronan and me.

The knowledge of our impending farewell loomed over us like a shadow. I saw the tension in Ronan's rigid body, the muscles clenched and ready to spring; his usual ease was replaced by quiet solemnity. His homeland was calling him back, yet the idea of separation filled us with dread.

The day passed with little conversation. That night, we camped under the stars and listened to the fire crackling softly as we huddled close by for warmth. The time felt surreal, a temporary reprieve from the challenges that awaited us .

On the final stretch of land before we reached the border, the landscape grew increasingly desolate, a no-man's land that served as a buffer between Keldara and the Grasslands. The air was filled with a sense of desolation, a reminder of the rift that lay between the two vastly different lands.

As the border came into view, I was consumed by a mix of relief and apprehension. This was it—the moment of parting was upon us. I glanced at Ronan. His expression was unreadable, his jaw set in determination. Mykal rode silently beside us, his earlier offers of sanctuary in Keldara lingering unspoken between us.

“We're here,” Mykal announced as we halted at the edge of the border near the invisible line that marked the beginning of the Central Plains.

Ronan dismounted, his gaze lingering on me. “Leila,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I don't know how to—”

“You don't have to say anything,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. I dismounted and strode to him, then wrapped him in a tight embrace.

I ignored Mykal when he cleared his throat behind us. I didn’t want to let Ronan go, even though I knew he would only be safe in the Grasslands.

Slowly, Ronan pulled away, his crimson eyes staring deep into mine. “Don’t linger in Keldara. Have Mykal take you straight back to Valoria,” he whispered as he brushed my hair back. “Once I reach the Crimson Clan, I’ll send word to you—”

“No,” I muttered and shook my head. “I can’t do this. I can’t let you go.”

Ronan cradled my face. “Once I step over into the Grasslands, I’ll be safe. You don’t have to worry about me, Leila.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m more worried about you.”

Images of his people scattered and humiliated throughout Keldara filtered through my mind. Their silent pleas to be rescued were imprinted in my brain. I was the solution. I couldn’t cross Keldara again and see them as I returned to the relative safety of my home. Their empty gazes would haunt me for all eternity.

“No,” I repeated. “I’m coming with you.”

Ronan’s crimson eyes widened. “What? No ! You can’t.”

My eyes flashed. “I can and I will.”

“Leila,” Mykal cut in to our conversation. “I’ve gotten word that your family believes you were kidnapped by Ronan. If you truly want to help him, getting back to Valoria to clear his name is the only way.”

I glared at Mykal. “What about the Crimson Clan? What about the ones who are enslaved in Keldara? What you’re doing is wrong!”

Mykal coughed into his closed fist and looked away sheepishly. “Things have been done this way for over a century, Leila. Change doesn’t happen overnight. You must know that.”

I stepped away from Ronan and edged closer to Mykal. “And what change are you trying to implement? I don’t see you doing anything!”

Mykal sent me a glare. “You don’t know anything about the politics of Keldara. Don’t make assumptions.”

“Leila,” Ronan said, turning my attention back to him, “as much as I want to disagree with him, Mykal is right. You should return to Valoria and let your family know you’re safe.” He turned to Keldara’s commander. “I trust you can get her back safely and quickly?”

Mykal nodded .

I took ahold of Ronan’s arm and dragged him a few feet away. “Listen,” I whispered, “I know you want to protect me, but I can protect myself. After seeing your people in Keldara, I can’t go back to pretending I don’t know how they’re suffering. Either you let me speak to my father for an alliance, or you allow me to cross the border with you and help the only way I can.”

Ronan’s eyes widened in horror. “Leila, what are you saying?” he whispered.

“I’m saying yes. I’ll awaken the fox demon.”

Before I even finished my sentence, he was already shaking his head. “No, Leila. Trust me when I tell you, I want to help my people more than anyone, but … things are different now. My father is different. I don’t know what it is, but something rubbed me the wrong way when I saw him at the banquet. It had been months since I last spoke to him, and I don’t think we’re in agreement any longer.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I believe he wants to sacrifice you and then use the wish on something else.”

My stomach plummeted. “But he can’t do that without your permission! It’s you who holds the wish, and I trust you, Ronan. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone. So let your father scheme all he wants. He won’t get his way.”

“We’re running out of time!” Mykal called out. “If word arrives to the King of Keldara that the son of Chief Aryan crossed the border and we let him go, much less that Princess Lyanna of Valoria crossed with him, there will be hell to pay!”

I looked deeply into Ronan’s eyes and took his hands in my own. “Please, Ronan. Let me go with you,” I whispered.

I saw the conflict in those crimson eyes and his burning desire to reject my offer, but in those same eyes I saw a small part wanted to agree. He wanted to save his people no matter what it took.

He sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.” Gripping my hand tightly, Ronan pulled me over to where Mykal stood, holding the reins of our horses.

“So what’s the plan?” the commander asked.

“She’s coming with me.” Ronan squeezed my hand. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Mykal looked conflicted as he looked between us warily. “Leila … this isn’t a good idea. What Chief Aryan has planned –”

“I know. You told me,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “But just trust that I know what I’m doing.”

He turned his ire to Ronan, his expression darkening. “Are you truly willing to sacrifice her? I’m usually not opposed to sacrificing one for the sake of thousands, but—”

Mykal looked at me with something akin to caring in his eyes. Did he actually care whether I lived or died? I had to turn away.

“You can trust that I’d never let anything happen to her. She won’t die,” Ronan declared, his jaw locking as he stared Mykal down. “I assure you, I can take care of my woman.”

“I doubt King Malik would agree with that sentiment,” Mykal gritted between his teeth.

I tried to diffuse the situation. “This is my decision, and like you said, there’s not much time. I appreciate your help, Mykal, but we need to go.”

After a beat, Mykal nodded and handed us the reins of our horses. “Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Without another glance, he climbed atop his horse, digging his heels in its sides and leaving us at the border.