Chapter 24
The following morning, everything changed.
I was about to leave Semuel’s stable when I spotted Aegir coming out from behind the mesa. He approached, carrying a concerning number of bags. He lined them up next to each other along the wall opposite the stalls.
“What are you doing here?” I asked curiously. He handed me one of the bags. My eyes rounded—it was packed with food.
“I’m here to have breakfast with you. And to start your training.”
My gaze shifted from the food to Aegir. “I’m sorry, start my what?”
“Training. We start today.”
I followed him outside. “Training? As in fighting? As in sword fighting? What kind of training?” I never thought of myself as someone who could train.
Yet remembering how my stomach had filled with churning exhilaration when I watched Princess Yosefa with her female Sand Warriors at the Graind Races, brought with it familiar excitement.
The sight of them riding, with their swords held in the air as their hair whipped behind them, was truly empowering.
Aegir chuckled at my too-many questions. “We’ll start slow. Stretching, running, weight lifting, nothing big. Then we’ll go through the basics of combat, weaponry, and—” He looked up at the sky and I traced his movement. A white eagle was hovering above us in silent circles. Eldric.
“Did you tell him about this place?” I all but hissed.
“No.” His brow furrowed. “He must have picked up my scent.”
“Why does he remain up there?”
“I warded this place. No one can come in unless you want them to.”
My eyes searched his. He had been protecting her and I hadn’t even known. And since when?
It felt awkward, watching Eldric circling up there. “You can let him down only if you trust that he won’t say a word.”
“I trust him with my life.”
“All right, then.”
Cinnamon squealed at Eldric’s shift.
“You scared her,” I called out. I was about to go calm her down, but Eldric beat me to it.
“Hey, hey. Easy girl.” She calmed at once, delightfully accepting all of his giant pats. “I’m sorry—” Eldric looked at me and asked, “What’s her name?”
“Cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon? Seriously?” I gave Eldric a borderline scowl, and he let out an exhale, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Cinnamon.”
“So, what are we doing here exactly?” Eldric asked, his gaze still on my mare.
Aegir briefed him on the secret-horse situation and told him that we were about to start my very first training session. Eldric, who I was sure looked like the god of training, if one were to exist, was quickly interested and said that he wanted to help.
I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of that.
I had never known that there was an overwhelming amount of detail and a meticulous technique in a simple long body stretch.
Eldric went through so much detail, it seemed like he would not shut up.
That was not at all torture when compared to the intermittent intervals of jogging, running, and sprinting around the paddock.
Not to mention that I was doing all that whilst listening to Eldric’s yaps and shouts.
Then he called my muscles weak and pathetic, and said that we had to definitely work on those.
Eldric watched attentively as I lifted rocks, squatted, and jumped as instructed.
It was hence justified to feel instant relief when Eldric told me that he had to head back to his men.
My muscles had long turned tired, and I could feel my dress sticking to my clammy skin.
Trickles of sweat trailed down both sides of my face, collecting at my chin before falling to the sandy ground at my feet.
I had never breathed so hard. I was sure I was going to faint, or hurl—possibly both. But I made it.
I endured a full-on training session with a massive white male from Silch, who also happened to be the Captain of the Vanguard of Ice. The way he fixated on each of my movements, constantly correcting my back, my legs, my arms, my timing, even—it screamed Captain.
I pushed my wobbly legs towards the water valve and gulped down two glasses, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I was about to sit on the tiled floor when Aegir asked, arms crossed, “Uh, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m finished with Eldric’s training,” I breathed.
“Uh-huh, but you’re not finished with mine.”
Oh. My face turned weary and I took small, reluctant steps towards him. “Just to let you know, I might faint soon.”
“Only for today, all right. Let’s pretend that you’ll be attacked somewhere colder than here.”
I didn’t manage to completely suppress my moan. It escaped my lips at the merciful touch of cool on my skin. I was about to thank him, but my brain processed what he’d just said. My heavy-lidded eyes snapped wide and I blurted, “Attacked?”
“Yes. I’ll be ‘attacking’ you, and you’ll be learning all about countering. It’s called self-defence.”
“Oh.” I realised then what he was doing. Why he was doing it.
“Again,” Aegir commanded for the hundredth time, grabbing hold of my wrist. With the side of my free palm, I struck him in the soft crease of his elbow, aiming precisely at what Aegir referred to as the ulnar nerve. Aegir’s grip loosened and he pulled his arm away.
“The little human finally made the Lord of the Ice Vanguard flinch.”
“Only because you let me.”
“Not only. You hit well.” My lips quirked. Then he asked, “Are you ready?”
My head tilted. “Ready for what?”
Aegir reached both arms behind his shoulders and pulled forward his twin axes. “To feel sorry for your poor target.” I grinned at the invitation.
Our poor target was a makeshift wooden panel.
“Do you still remember how it’s done?”
I gave Aegir a side glance and reached for the axe.
I positioned myself at the target’s centre.
I looked at it with an intense gaze, readying the axe at the back of my head, feet spread and planted.
A grunt left my throat in tandem with the hurled axe, which lodged at eye level with a gratifying thump.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aegir remarked, taking a few steps closer and handing me the other axe.
I inhaled a deep breath and focused all of my energy—all of my anger, all of my frustration—into that one throw and into every one that came after it. I let out some of it a little at a time until a calm settled over me by the end.
“You know, you gleam when you throw stuff. It scares me a little,” Aegir commented, glancing at me with glinting eyes.
My lips curled into a smile. Then I winced, subtly, looking at my tingling palms. The skin had turned red and tender.
My wince mustn’t have been as subtle, as Aegir looked my way and said, “I can heal them for you.”
“No,” I quickly responded. I wasn’t sure why, but I wished for the pain to remain.
A reminder of what I did that day with my body.
Normally, it was my back that was sore, my fingers, after long hours of scrubbing.
And, of course, the thumbprint bruises that often marred my arms. Their aches reflected my despair and hopelessness.
They reminded me that I had no control—over anything.
Not even over my own memories. At least this sort of pain belonged to me—it was mine and I wanted to keep it.
And besides, it wasn’t my palms that needed healing.
I had to find some way to bargain. I would find it…
for her, just as I had promised. And then I would find it for me.
“As you wish. I warn you, though, tomorrow’s not going to be pleasant.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. And the day after that, and the one after it.”
“You do realise that I need functioning arms and legs to scrub and hang clothes.”
“Good thing you won’t be doing any of that, then.”
My brow scrunched. “What do you mean? Am I on kitchen duty?”
“Kitchen duty? No. Come on, let’s get back to the castle. I have things to get to,” Aegir urged, already walking away.
I got stuck there, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, looking my way. “Let’s go.”
“I—I normally wash myself before leaving the stable,” I replied, pointing at the trough.
“You can use my chamber.”
My eyes grew. “What? No. I—I mustn’t. I’m not even allowed to use the servants’ chamber, let alone a prince’s bath.”
“But you’re allowed to bathe in the water trough?”
I lifted my eyes from my fidgeting fingers and answered wearing a sheepish gaze. “No.”
“Do you see where this is going?”
“Yes,” I murmured, reaching for my bag.
“You may stay here,” Aegir said. He opened the door to his room and gestured for me to enter. “I’ll come back after dawn.”
“But I’m expected downstairs.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, I cleared your schedule. You can stay here instead.”
“What did you do?” I breathed, concern lacing my voice.
“You ask as if you’d rather scrub clothes than stay here.”
“What? No. I obviously prefer staying here,” I assured him. My slight apprehension came from knowing that Mounir would later make me pay for it.
“That settles it, then.”
“But what will I do?”
“I don’t know,” he said, with a shrug. “Whatever you want.”
I was about to say something, but Aegir motioned with his head and urged, “Go on, I’ll see you tonight. Eldric will be joining us for dinner.”
“Us?” I hushed to myself the second he closed the door behind him.
I had been in this room a thousand times before, yet I still found myself circling on my heels, unsure what to do. Knowing that I was supposed to be three floors down in a laundry dungeon made me feel stomach-settling relief mixed with a lingering sensation that I was doing something wrong.
Bathing in his chamber similarly gave me opposing feelings.
I opened the wardrobe and took out every piece of his clothing, forming a mountain of clothes on his bed. Then I put aside every item that needed some sort of mending.
I grabbed one of Aegir’s daggers and moved towards the door. I wasn’t sure if I was both locked in and out, but when I reached for the handle and pushed down, it turned cool and opened. I slid the dagger beneath the door and hurried my way downstairs.