Chapter 12
Twelve
Days passed, and Iskra barely had any alone time with Jasyn.
Since his parents returned, Jasyn had been focused on spending time with them and, more importantly, training.
Though, every meal, the full royal family ate together, and she was invited.
It was always a casual affair, but the King and Queen spoke about their past—how they met, how they ruled, bestowing crumbs of advice on the future couple.
Iskra did her best not to look at Jasyn too long, because she feared she would crumble.
She would never get to see Jasyn crowned.
King Aleks also told her how he had ended up in the wheelchair.
Dahlia had been fighting her way through the Undertaking, her father at her back, protecting her.
While she was busy engaging with another competitor who wanted to kill her, King Aleks didn’t notice the dragon at his back.
It had swiped its tail so forcefully, the king flew across the cave and hit a rock right on his spine.
He had been unable to walk since. Dahlia had witnessed it, and, instead of focusing on the Undertaking, she tried helping him.
As she had kneeled in front of her father, he yelled a warning, but it was too late. A sword plunged through her chest.
King Aleks only came out victorious because another competitor practically handed him the Heart.
He had been a strong supporter of the king, and he wanted his reign to continue.
It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Sun Court citizens to enter with the goal of ensuring a certain outcome.
If the participant survived, King Aleks would honor and reward them to show his gratitude.
Yet, even that hadn’t been enough to see Jaymes or Dahlia on the throne.
Iskra took the story in stride, but the truth of the matter was, she felt responsible.
It was her kind that had been killing and hurting people.
Soon, she would be the one to end a life.
That sinking reality stuck with her as she headed to the shop for the night, except instead of the usual quiet streets, she was greeted with the sight of Bron handing Kryth a small satchel.
She stayed back, watching the exchange for a moment. They spoke in hushed tones, but their faces revealed the brimming tension between them.
Iskra stepped forward, her curiosity reaching a peak. “What’s happening?”
Both whipped their attention to her. Bron practically jumped in shock, but Kryth remained nonchalant, already having been tuned to her presence from afar.
Kryth smiled as he tossed the satchel, metal loudly clattering in her ear. There was money in there.
Iskra volleyed her gaze between the two men, unable to put together any situation in which Bron owed Kryth money. Had he bought something from the shop?
Kryth seemed eager to quench her growing list of questions. “He did everything he could to try and save Siena. His biggest mistake was coming to me.”
“You lied to me!” Bron yelled, his voice impassioned. “You said you could save her.”
“I don’t understand.” Iskra shook her head. “You went to Kryth to buy something from him to save your mother?”
“I went to the minister, as I was told he had familiarity with herbal medicines that could heal any ailment. As the minister, I figured he would be the best. Back then, he had a different location, somewhere closer to where I grew up. Now, it all makes sense. He’s a liar and a fraud, in more ways than one.
” Bron gestured to the shop in front of them.
Kryth smiled. “And he couldn’t pay up then, so he owes me now. I heard you’ve had to go to reckless measures to get the coin for all the medicines I concocted for you.”
Iskra’s face blanched. “What did you do?”
Bron’s face was downcast. “I’ve been gambling to make up the money, but I’m still in so much debt for the years of trying to keep her alive.” Bron pointed to Kryth. “You don’t deserve one coin of it.”
It all made sense then, why Bron seemed annoyed by the betrothal between Esi and Jasyn.
It wasn’t that he held affection for the lady.
He must have wanted to marry her for the money.
Iskra couldn’t dive deeper into the situation, though, because Kryth's next words hit Iskra and Bron like a ball of fire.
“Why would I have wanted to save my sister after she spent my whole life discouraging me from taking the title of minister?”
Jasyn sprung from his bed early. Ever since the party, he’d felt like he was flying.
He and Esi were a love-match. She craved him as much as he craved her.
Even when she stopped them from taking that next step, he still felt their connection.
It showed she trusted him enough to voice her truth.
It was like a fire lit within him when he decided he would go to town this morning. Alone.
Well…almost alone.
Mych trailed Jasyn as they neared the town square. It was an unusually cloudy day, but Jasyn enjoyed the break from the scorching heat.
“Are you sure?” Mych asked.
“I answered yes three times. My mind won’t change.”
It was early enough that it was still quiet. There were children outside, but they were tired and moved slowly. Mothers had to herd them along, a warming sight. They carried baskets or pulled barrows filled with clothes. It was washing day, and Jasyn planned to help.
A river slithered not too far away, and he followed along. Townsfolk gave him curious glares, but he offered to carry a basket from a nearby woman. She hesitated, but he urged her. Then, he made Mych do the same.
At the river, he watched as the mothers began washing the clothes in the water, showing their children how it was done. Some of the unfocused ones just jumped into the current and splashed each other.
He wanted to join them, but he kept to the task. He noted how the women were scrubbing the fabrics against each other to remove stains, some even using a smooth rock to massage the clothes.
A woman noticed him. “Are you here to learn, Prince Jasyn?”
“And help,” he added.
“This work is below you. I—we—” she gestured around, “wouldn’t feel uncomfortable allowing you to get on your knees.”
He wanted to push, but it was unfair. He would disrupt their rhythm.
Still, he looked at how they hung the clothes on branches or laid them on rocks, how many of the women commented on how long it would take the clothes to dry with the lack of sun, and an idea formed.
Esi’s words from the party rang through him.
She was right. He shouldn’t hide his gift from his people.
There shouldn’t be secrets, and even if his light wasn’t as magnificent as before his siblings’ deaths, it was still powerful.
Moving to the clothes, he called to his light and let the warmth exuding from his hands dry the fabrics quickly. Eyes were on him, but he didn’t mind. He was in control of the situation, of his mind and body.
“Magic!” a child yelled, and he heard their footsteps pounding against the pebbles.
Where one went, the others followed. Soon, he had a herd of them surrounding him.
“Me next! Me next!” A young girl bounced on her small feet as she lifted the end of her dress toward him.
Jasyn chuckled and gently let his light glow against the dress. The children watched in awe as the fabric lightened before their eyes.
With that one trick, all the children started hounding him to dry their clothes next. It was chaotic and overwhelming, but he reminded himself of the world before him—the ground beneath his feet, the stream of water in the river, the sounds of birds and families around him.
When he had dried the fifth child, he swore his eyes were playing tricks as Esi appeared from behind the trees and waved at him, her face like a gentle breeze on a hot day.
Yet, for some odd reason, his response was to panic.
He smiled at the children before jogging off toward her. Mych was not too far behind, keeping a close eye on them both.
“What are you doing here?” She should be at the castle. “Did you come here alone?”
Esi blinked and crossed her arms.
“I didn’t realize I was a prisoner.”
Her words were sharp, and they hit him hard. Yet, it didn’t quell that rising tide of fear. She shouldn’t be out here alone.
“You could be killed,” he snapped.
“By whom? The children?” She scoffed.
“We should go,” Mych urged. “You have an audience.”
Jasyn turned around, and everyone seemed to snap their attention away as soon as he did.
The young girl—the first to have her clothes dried—came up to them with flowers tied together to form a crown.
She reached up to give it to Esi, who bent down to be at the same height as the child.
She placed it on Esi’s head, and some of the panic began to wash away, like dirt scrubbed from clothes.
“You’re pretty,” the young girl said, her voice giggly.
Esi tapped the child’s nose. “You look like a princess in your dress.”
The girl giggled again, and like all children, something else quickly caught her attention, causing her to rush off.
Before they could leave, though, one of the mothers approached them.
“Thank you, Prince Jasyn, for your kindness.”
Jasyn opened his mouth to stop the undeserved praise, but her next statement made him stop.
“You’ll make a great king.” She winked before nodding to Esi and Mych and then leaving. He held in his breath, unable to let the words worm their way in. He’d simply offered a helping hand today.
Even though Esi clearly was angry with him, she touched his cheek like she understood the effect those words had on him, how he had difficulty accepting them.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.