28. Chapter 28 #2
Lyra leaned forward next, her cheeks already tinged with pink from her wine. She raised it languidly, and the server filled it nearly to the brim. “My darling son has shared quite the tale of your exploits. You must tell us. How does a mortal valiantly fight off a horde of ogres?”
Kaelin grumbled, “And light half the forest aflame while doing so.”
Ren ignored Kaelin’s comment. “It all happened fast. One moment I was chained in a wagon, being hauled to my execution… and the next, th e ogres descended. The ogres were everywhere – there were too many of them and not enough of us.”
Next to Ren, Kaelin didn’t speak, but her grip on her dinner knife tightened as she sliced cleanly through a piece of meat with far more force than necessary.
Ren could feel Kaelin’s glare burning into the side of her face like a physical heat, very unamused that Ren easily ignored her comment.
Ren continued. “I broke free of the wagon. I don’t know how, only that the flames answered. I fought my way through the chaos.”
And turned them all into burning crisps , she wanted to finish, recalling how the ogres once stood, eyes alit with the thrill of the hunt, ready to take them prisoner or bash their heads in, and then her fire answered and created an inferno.
Kaelin stated, “Ogres don’t usually travel in such numbers.”
Talen nodded. “It’s also rare that they would brazenly attack a prisoner convoy.”
“Could they have been after Talen?” Kaelin wondered.
“Only a handful knew of Talen’s return,” Maelion mulled.
Ren stiffened. Who would’ve expected the crown prince to travel with prisoners?
“Unless someone who knew had informed them,” Kaelin leaned forward, her voice low but edged with thought.
“Either someone tipped the ogres, and those brutal bastards saw a chance at glory for felling the heir to House Vaelaran.” Her eyes flicked to her father’s.
“But ogres don’t want to entangle themselves in our politics.
Which points to the darker possibility that someone wanted Talen assassinated.They knew he was there.
Perhaps the ogre attack was a distraction. ”
Maelion’s expression darkened. “Court schemes are blades drawn in shadow. This may be one of them.” His eyes cut to Talen, then lingered on Kaelin. “Keep sharp. Always.”
The weight of his words pressed down on the room. Kaelin lifted her glass and took a slow sip of wine
From her seat, Lyra gave a delicate laugh, swirling her own glass. “Enough of politics and plots. You’ll sour the wine.” She tilted her head at Ren. “Tell me, Ren… What of your fire? You wielded it without spell or the element. What are you? ”
“I don’t know,” Ren answered honestly. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, but never like that. When I was younger, it used to slip, but it was nothing dangerous. Just little accidents. It feels stronger now.”
Kaelin muttered under her breath, “Not surprising, given how clumsy you are.”
Movement caught Ren’s eye. Something nudged under the table, aimed for Kaelin.
Kaelin visibly stiffened, eyes narrowing as they flicked to Talen sitting across from them.
He didn’t look at her, didn’t move, didn’t break his carefully neutral expression.
But his boot slid back to his side of the table with far too much innocence.
Ren’s brows lifted. Really?
Talen glanced her way, just long enough for him to give Ren an unmistakable wink before looking away again as if nothing had happened.
Lyra said, “Magic like that doesn’t lie dormant without reason.”
Ren stared down at her wine, the liquid suddenly too bright, too red. She wasn’t sure if she was being honored here, or dissected like a creature caught in a gilded cage. And she had a sinking feeling the real dinner had only just begun.
Ren drew in a slow breath, forcing her voice to stay level.
“Maybe so. But I don’t rely on my magic to fight.
I know how to use steel and even fists to stand my own.
Whatever my magic is doing, whatever reason it has for waking up like this, I won’t let it affect my ability to uphold the end of the contract.
I’ll kill those creatures no matter what it takes. ”
Kaelin grumbled, “For the price we’re paying you, that’s the least we’d respect.”
A sharp kick landed against Kaelin’s ankle under the table. She startled, eyes snapping to Talen again.
He just sat perfectly straight, as though he couldn’t possibly be responsible for anything happening below table level. Ren caught the exchange, the corner of her mouth tugging upward despite herself.
“And what of before?” Lyra asked Ren, eyes gleaming behind the rim of her goblet. “You clearly weren’t always a beast hunter. Tell me, how does a mortal like you learn to swing a blade with such ferocity?”
The question was innocuous. Curious, even. But Ren recognized the glint in Lyra’s eyes. That too-still quality to her posture. Interrogation, not conversation. Just like her daughter.
Ren glanced at Talen, who only gave her a shrug as if to say your move .
Her first instinct was to fabricate some cleaner version of the truth. She could say she was trained by a reclusive swordmaster. Or hired muscle for some forgotten noble house.
But then, something in her bristled. What the hell? May as well be honest.
So Ren set her wine down and leaned back in her chair.
“I learned to fight in the pits. Underground rings. Illegal, mostly. Not the kind of place you walk into unless you’re desperate or have nothing left to lose.
The first fight I ever won, I was sixteen.
I entered the ring with a man twice my size and fists like bricks.
I barely had time to think before I was on the ground.
” Ren’s lips quirked. “He knocked me out cold but just for a second. I came to with the taste of blood in my mouth and the roar of the crowd in my ears.”
Kaelin made a faint sound, an unimpressed hum, barely concealed beneath her sip of wine.
Ren ignored her again.
“I got back up. Didn’t think – just moved. It felt like the longest fight even to this day and took everything in me to stay on my feet, but I won. He was slow, and I was faster.”
“And the reward?” Maelion asked.
“A few coins and a lot of bruises,” Ren smiled faintly. “The pit master took me out for drinks after, and he said that I had fire that would either burn me alive or make me some coin.”
Lyra laughed. “And which did it do, I wonder?”
“I’m still figuring that out.”
“Charming,” Kaelin murmured under her breath. “A woman of the people. Noble, indeed.”
Ren cut her a scathing glance. Her knuckles whitened slightly against her wineglass.
Talen cleared his throat before the tension could snap.
“You should’ve seen her when we fought the creature.
That creature tried to twist her, drag her under with grief, fear…
the kind of darkness that devours from the inside out.
But she didn’t run. Didn’t even turn away.
She stood her ground. Took all of that weight and turned it into fire so bright, so blinding, it carved through that thing like the sun breaking through a storm.
” He shook his head. “It’s been decades since I’ve seen fire like that.
And never wielded by someone so new to it.
It wa s…” He trailed off, lips quirking into a half-smile. “Terrifying, honestly. And incredible.”
Maelion leaned back. For a fae male so famously stoic, there was a rare spark in his eyes now, something thoughtful, assessing. “Well,” he said, lifting his glass, “cheers to perseverance and rising when you’ve been knocked low.”
Lyra raised her glass next. “And for reminding us all that power can be found in the unlikeliest of places.”
Kaelin exhaled an audible sigh. The eye roll she gave was subtle but sharp enough for Ren to catch it out of the corner of her eye.
With a deliberate slowness, Kaelin lifted her glass and clinked it against Ren’s with a faint tink .
“To perseverance,” Kaelin murmured flatly.
“Or whatever we’re calling recklessness these days. ”
As Kaelin took a small, measured sip, Ren automatically mirrored her, though she couldn’t help the flicker of amusement warming her chest. Maybe it was the wine, maybe the fact that she was still upright at this dinner table, but part of her delighted in the way Kaelin seemed to bristle every time she opened her mouth.
Ren hadn’t expected this. The king, so regal and cold from afar, was surprisingly gracious. And the queen, though sharp-tongued and imperious, had a way of peeling back a person’s secrets. Twisted, yes. But entirely reasonable.
Still. Ren wasn’t naive. Graciousness was often the sharpest disguise of all.
Ren drummed her fingers on the table. “You want to hear something actually insane?” she asked, eyes glinting. “Once, in the pits, I got thrown into a match so twisted the crowd booed the organizer for suggesting it.”
Maelion asked, “Who was your opponent?”
Ren gave a wicked smile. “A shapeshifter. Apparently, he was not as adept in his abilities and kept turning into animals that were increasingly unhelpful. At one point he tried to charge me as a duck. As you can imagine, the chaos was… memorable.”
“A duck?” Lyra echoed incredulously. “What other creatures did he turn into?”
“Oh, plenty. First he tried a wolf, which was a big mistake because he tripped over his own paws. He must not have been used to four-legged animals. At one point he became a pigeon and just flew in circles. I think he forgot he had wings.”
It surprised Ren how strangely natural it was to recall the pits without the usual weight pressing on her chest.
Maelion leaned forward, elbows on the table, an intrigued light softening his regal features. “And you still managed to overcome him?” he asked, sounding almost impressed.
“Saints, Ren,” Lyra added, wiping at her eyes, “I haven’t heard a story that ridiculous in ages.”
Even Kaelin’s simmering glare seemed to ease.
The ice around her expression thawed by a fraction, tension loosening in her shoulders.
Ren could have sworn she heard the faintest snort of laughter from next to Ren, but when Ren’s gaze flicked toward her, Kaelin immediately seized her wine goblet and took a deliberately long sip, staring very pointedly at anything but Ren’s face.
Ren bit back a grin.
Just barely.