Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Iryana woke up late in the morning feeling calmer than she ever had. She lay tucked on the very edge of her sister’s bed, her arm at a funny angle and her head barely on the pillow. Though her body was stiff and aching, her sister was beside her.
Turning her head, she watched Hadima. The last time they’d slept together had been right after their father’s injury. So much had changed, so much had come between them, but they’d found their way together again.
Moving slowly so as to not wake Hadima up, Iryana scooted out of the bed. When her leg hit the floor, she couldn’t stop the soft cry of pain from escaping her lips.
Fuck, she had forgotten about her leg.
“Iryana?” Hadima groaned, voice rough with sleep.
Iryana winced. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Iryana insisted. “I fell out of the tree when I was coming to get you. Not far.”
“You’re gonna need to be better than fine if we’re going to pull this off,” Hadima argued, slowly pushing herself up. “I need supplies from my workshop.”
Her first instinct was to argue, to insist her sister not push herself, but she knew that was foolish. Iryana wasn’t in good shape, and she needed to get back to the Myura River Fort before the rest of her team.
“Okay, just tell me what to get.”
Once Hadima had helped her apply salves and bandage herself back up, Iryana was feeling a lot better.
She had almost forgotten how effective her sister’s water-imbued ointments were.
Still wearing yesterday’s clothes, there was little to do other than rebraid her hair.
But she took her time doing that, not in a rush to leave the safe, warm bubble that was her sister’s room.
With nothing else to waylay her, Iryana tucked her sister back into bed.
“Good luck.” Hadima squeezed her hand.
“Love you,” she replied softly, slipping out of the room.
It was time to fix things.
When she came down the stairs, the Kleesolds in the main hall quieted. The instinct to look away, to flee, tensed her muscles. But she refused to listen to that fear anymore.
She met Misha’s eyes first. Her littlest sister had red, puffy eyes, and she seemed hesitant. Misha had been hurt too. There were words that needed to be said there—but that would have to come later. For now, Iryana tried to give her a smile that conveyed how sorry she was. How much she loved her.
Then she found the First—her grandmother—who was sitting across from the duchess’s representative, watching Iryana.
Everyone was watching, likely wondering why Iryana was there, waiting to see what happened.
There was a question in the First’s gaze, the one she was so used to seeing, so used to shrinking back from. But this time, Iryana nodded.
The First of the Guardians of Klees didn’t smile, but it was there in her eyes. She gestured for Iryana to join her. Iryana swallowed, wishing she could have this conversation in private, with as few of her family present as possible, but maybe getting it over all at once would be better.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as Iryana crossed the room and sat down next to her grandmother. It felt surreal, like she had walked into a dream world.
“Lady Dyavara was reminding me...” Vesima raised her brow at Iryana. “That without a plan, she has little chance of convincing the duchess not to pull the post immediately. Is there anything else we have to convince the duchess?”
Iryana looked around the room, at what the outsider was seeing. Anxiety, fear, and worry were on almost every face. It was a guardian family that didn’t believe they would make it either. It was no surprise the woman, Lady Dyavara, didn’t believe in them.
Her family was resilient; they were strong. They had earned the title of guardian clan generations ago. How dare that woman forget it? That flash of anger pushed the words out of her throat.
“Our plan the other night did not go the way we expected. But it revealed what needs to happen now.”
The lady raised her brow in disbelief. A few curious glances around them twisted into confusion.
Iryana pressed forward. “Taking out their general won’t stop the entire organization. Someone else will replace him.”
“So how do you plan on dealing with a military gang that is growing wildly out of control on top of the dakii?”
“We still need to kill him,” Iryana said earnestly.
“But we need to do it in a way where we cripple his followers, those in support of a war in the region. Where whoever replaces Karvek is going to work with us instead. And now, we are in the perfect position to do it. I have contacts in the other regional brigades,” she said, though it was a big stretch of the truth.
“From the North Sea to the deserts of the south. I have met the King Commander, who is establishing control over them all. They are nothing like Karvek and his people.”
Iryana felt like she was buzzing, like she was intoxicated. “I have spent months with the 18th Brigade, and while there are issues that need to be fixed, a local group could be of help to us.”
Lady Dyavara seemed to ponder her words carefully.
“In other posts around the settlement, we have good relations with the local brigades. The price of their protection can be worth it, but it is usually just one more threat to monitor. To manage.” Then the lady frowned.
“And how would you take down Karvek and his followers? Your clan is not big enough, and we don’t have the forces to spare to aid you. ”
“If properly incentivized, other brigades could help us.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they need us,” she said firmly, “To help them take down Karvek and his entire operation, too. To put a stop to the war that is coming for them.”
The woman seemed to consider this, her lips twisted ruefully. “I am not sure how optimistic the duchess will be. In fact, she might not be in favor of you starting a conflict at her border at all.”
Iryana’s chest constricted. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.
“Are you familiar with our oaths, Lady Dyavara?”
The woman blinked. “I—not specifically, but—”
Iryana glanced at her grandmother, at the First, who nodded her agreement. She took a deep breath.
“We are guardians of Istri. Of the people of Istri.” Her voice was heavy. “Our duty is to the people we protect first, above all others. Then, our duty to our clan comes next. And only after that comes duty to the rulers of Istri.”
Lady Dyavara opened her mouth, but Iryana didn’t let her speak.
“The duchess may rule this settlement, but it would go against the oaths we have taken as guardians to abandon the people now. It’s not just those here in this settlement that we have a duty to.”
Even when her clan had guarded Klees, those outside the city were their responsibility too.
All were welcome in their fortress when the invaders came.
The Kleesolds would protect them all. The 18th and the other settlements nearby may not have come to the clan for help or even asked for it, but Iryana still felt a duty to them.
“The duchess will not like—”
The First cut in, voice sharp. “If the duchess wanted obedient guards at her border, she should have picked soldiers instead of guardians.”
It was a risky move, going against the duchess like this; there could be consequences for it. But Iryana knew it was what they had to do.
“We have until winter,” Iryana stated. “Like we agreed upon before. And the Guardians of Klees will secure the Dovaki post, will protect the people of this region.”
There was still hesitation in Lady Dyavara’s eyes, which flicked to the First. “And after that? What is the future of your clan with no heir?”
“It is hard,” her grandmother drew out. “For the duchess to trust in the future of a clan that would crumple with my death. I am not a young woman.”
The heir. The Third. That’s what it would take then.
Iryana took a slow breath, her mind not as decided as she’d hoped.
Being heir would mean being forever tied to the family, being at its heart.
She would have to move into the main house when this was all over, train under her grandmother again.
She wouldn’t be able to leave when she couldn’t handle it or if the family stopped supporting her.
Becoming heir could not be taken back. And if something happened to Iryana, they wouldn’t be able to name a new Third, at least not after the official ceremony. Just like they couldn’t name a new second with Gornhal gone.
Was she ready for that?
The woman looked at her finished plate, a slight shake to her head.
Iryana realized it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. She couldn’t make her choice based on fear. This was it—the last opportunity. If Lady Dyavara left their post like this, the Dovaki post would be done.
“My grandmother has asked me to be the Third.” Iryana’s eyes slid over to her grandmother. “I’ve agreed. So the Kleesold Guardians do have a metal-forged heir.”
Her grandmother smiled, and amid the chorus of sounds that broke out across the room, Iryana could hear Misha shouting. The woman nodded, seeming to relax at Iryana’s confident tone. Iryana just hoped she could trust in her plan as much as she was acting like she did.
“I will inform the duchess then.”
They discussed the practicalities for a while, with a few members of her family stopping by to throw their support behind the plan. Uncle Dinhal, the last metal-forged before her, squeezed her shoulders supportively.
Finally, the woman stood, and the First rose to say her goodbyes. Iryana sat staring at the wall across from her in a daze. She’d done it; she’d bought them time. But what would come next would be much harder than convincing the duchess’s representative.
“I’m glad you’re back, my granddaughter.” Her grandmother’s voice snagged her attention.