Chapter 12 – Kian
Chapter Twelve
KIAN
TWENTY YEARS AGO
Colin grumbles in annoyance, complaining that he can’t ride his brand-new horse as we climb into the royal carriage for the hour-long ride to House Astoria.
“But why do we have to go?” Colin whines again.
Mother shushes him, but Father gives him a stern glare. “Lord Astoria is my oldest friend and one of my closest advisors. Paying our respects to their newest children is the least we can do.”
Mother smiles and pats my knee. “Who knows? Perhaps we’ll arrange a marriage for you with the family, Kian. They do have three daughters.”
I screw my face up in disgust. “Why would you even say such a thing?”
Colin laughs at me, quieting when Mother gives him another look before turning her attention back to me.
“Part of being royal means our marriage bindings are important,” she says softly. “Colin is already betrothed to the princess of Tallinnia to maintain alliances. As heir, that’s his responsibility.”
I tilt my head. “I’m not the heir, so why do I need to be betrothed? I’m only nine years old!”
Father smirks from his seat across from me.
“Son, there will be quite a few things in life that you won’t understand until you get older.
You probably don’t need an arranged marriage quite yet, but your mother is right.
Perhaps we’ll marry you off to one of the Astorias.
I’m sure Cary would love that. He’s been dropping hints for years. ”
“Gross,” I say, and Mother chuckles as she pats my knee again.
“Don’t even worry about it, my little love. You won’t need to marry for quite some time.”
When we finally pull up to the manor, I excitedly jump to my feet, almost tripping over my brother in our race to get out, eager to stretch our legs after being cramped in the carriage.
“Boys!” Father calls out. “You will behave.”
“Of course, Father,” we say in unison.
Colin straightens the collar on his jacket and gives me a look that makes me wary, reminding me of all the times he’s gotten me into trouble.
When we’re finally ushered into one of the family’s sitting rooms, my gaze is immediately drawn to the young girl seated by the fire, completely focused on some kind of sewing project.
She looks a couple of years younger than me, but her prim and proper posture makes it clear she’s been raised to be a lady.
We trail behind Father and Mother as he greets Lord and Lady Astoria. Two babies squeal in their mother’s arms, one wearing bright pink and the other purple. I always wanted a baby sister, but Mother said Colin and I were all the gods would bless her with.
“Please, have a seat!” Lord Astoria exclaims to my parents while Lady Astoria tries to hush the crying babes. “Boys, I think there are some treats laid out over there.”
I look to Mother and she nods, so Colin and I wander over to the table laden with pastries and sweets.
“How long do you think they’ll make us stay?” I whisper to Colin.
Colin shrugs as he pops something sugary into his mouth.
I look back at the girl, who is completely in her own little world, ignoring the screeching babies and everyone else in the room. Grabbing a small plate, I put a few treats on it and walk over to her.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello,” she replies, keeping her eyes trained on her project.
“I brought you some sweets.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles.
What do I need to do to get this girl’s attention?
“You’re being quite rude. Don’t you realize I’m a prince?”
That does it. The girl drops her sewing and tilts her head up to look at me, irritation flaring in her green eyes.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she says, putting on a fake tone of respect. “Do you need me to get up and curtsy?”
She’s feisty, but something about her sparks my interest.
“I could tell my father you’re being rude,” I say, crossing my arms.
She snorts a laugh. “As if he could hear you over the screaming babies.”
“Do they do that a lot?” I ask, crinkling my nose in disgust.
“Unfortunately.” She sighs. “Chessa is worse than Erika.”
“What’s your name?” I ask.
She reaches for one of the pastries I brought over and smiles. “I’m Raelyn. How did you know croissants are my favorite?”
“I didn’t.”
“Lucky guess then.” She grins. I like her smile. “What’s your name?” she asks between bites.
“Kian, but my friends call me Ki.”
She screws up her nose in the cutest expression. “That doesn’t make sense. If your name is pronounced ‘key-inn’”—she draws out my name—“then why in the gods’ names would they call you something that rhymes with ‘sky?’”
I laugh and shrug. “No idea, but you shouldn’t swear.”
“I can do what I want,” she says defensively. “Sort of.”
“Ladies aren’t supposed to swear,” I retort.
“Ladies aren’t supposed to do a lot of things.” She sighs. “I bet you get to play outside all the time and climb trees and have adventures like I read about in books.”
I frown. “You’re not allowed to play outside?”
“Papa says it’s not safe.”
“Why? Because you’re a girl?”
She shrugs. “He’s never really explained it. Just says it can make me sick.”
“That seems silly.”
She nods.
“What if you went outside with an escort? Would that make it safer?”
She shrugs again. “I don’t know . . .”
I look around the room, noting that Father and Mother are completely distracted by Lord and Lady Astoria and the babies, who finally stopped crying.
Colin is perusing a large bookshelf and appears to be reading the titles.
Finally, I spot a glass door that leads out onto some kind of terrace, and an idea pops into my mind.
“How about we find out?” I ask.
Raelyn frowns. “Find out what?”
“If it’s safe to go out . . . with me.”
She bites her lip and shakes her head. “Father would never allow it.”
I shrug. “Our parents look rather busy right now, wouldn’t you say? My brother always says it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”
She hesitates for a moment before a sparkle of mischief lights her eyes. “Okay, maybe just real quick.”
A thrill of adrenaline courses through me as I offer my hand and she takes it. We casually walk toward the table of treats, as if we’re just getting another snack. I peek over my shoulder and see the adults are still lost in conversation, so we veer off to the side and try the door.
To my excitement, the door is unlocked, and we slip out onto the terrace that’s aglow in the late afternoon sun.
“Well?” I ask. “You haven’t burst into flames. Are you all right?”
Raelyn giggles and twirls in a circle. “It smells so fresh and clean out here.”
I scrunch my nose and sniff. Smells normal to me. “Want to go explore?”
“Sure!” she says excitedly.
I take her hand again, and we run toward the gardens.
Raelyn is like a beam of light. Her face almost glows in the sunlight, and her eyes light up in wonder as we skip through the grass and she stops to admire the wildflowers. I pull her toward the garden maze, and we dart into it.
“Try not to get lost!” I call out as she runs down one path and I try another.
Her giggles ring out, and I find myself chasing after her, enjoying her excitement.
We finally make it to the center of the maze to find a giant fountain. Both of us are panting from exertion, and sweat drips down my back from the heat of the summer sun beating down on us.
“I dare you to jump in,” Raelyn crows as she dips a finger into the cold water.
“No way,” I protest.
A mischievous look crosses her face before she sends a wave splashing my way.
I sputter in shock before reaching in and splashing her right back.
We’re a mess in our soaked clothes when we finally decide to head back to the manor.
Raelyn looks down at her soiled dress and ruined slippers. “Father and Mother will be furious.”
“But nothing bad happened!” I try to reassure her. “Maybe they’re just being overprotective.”
She nods but bites her lip again, looking anxious.
As we round the corner, muffled shouts come from the manor.
“Kian! Raelyn! Father’s booming voice mixes with Lord Astoria’s.
“Uh-oh,” Raelyn says.
We hurry our steps, and when we reach the terrace, we’re met with worried and angry glares.
“What were you thinking, leaving without asking?” Father scolds me loudly, and I can’t help but feel embarrassed.
“We just wanted to explore a little,” I try to explain.
Raelyn’s father looks like he’s about to explode, his face a mixture of anger and fear. “Get in the house and clean up immediately, young lady,” he commands. “Do you have any idea what could happen?”
She shakes her head and mumbles an apology as she runs into the manor.
“I’m sorry, Cary,” Father says. “Kian can be a little impetuous at times.”
Lord Astoria clenches his fists at his sides. “She’s quite allergic to the sun. I only hope we can get her some medicine before—” He sputters, then rambles on, “I don’t know what your son did to make her take that risk. Gods help him if—”
“I said I was sorry, Cary, but don’t forget who you’re speaking to,” Father interrupts, using his king voice. Lord Astoria looks immediately contrite.
“Apologies, Your Majesty. I just worry for my daughter.”
“Quite all right. We should probably be leaving anyhow.”