Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
Eirabella
A week after returning from our trip, we’re lying in his bed, in the aftermath of making the most of my full recovery. His voice, deep and reassuring, fills the space between us as he talks about my training.
“Selene is going to bank on overpowering you whenever she can,” he says, fingers tracing idle circles on my arm. Together we stare out the open window at the almost full moon, one of our favourite joint pastimes. “She doesn’t realise that strategy is what will win the longest battles. And make no mistake, stamina will matter. You’ll do best redirecting her force, not countering it.”
“You calling me a weakling, Your Highness?” I tease, nipping at the taut skin of his obscenely sculptured chest.
He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “I saw you take out a whole band of assailants by dumping a lake on top of their heads. I’d be stupid to call you weak.”
“And don’t you forget it. There’s a glass of water right there, and I have no qualms about doing a reenactment right now,” I joke, but still absorb every word he’s saying. He knows my power as well as I do. If he’s going to suggest something, I’m going to listen.
But before I can respond, a sharp, insistent knock at the door shatters the calm.
“Rylan!” Mathis’s voice booms from the other side.
Rylan groans and lays back on the bed, his body going limp. “Go away, Mathis!” he calls out, “unless you want Eirabella to dump a latrine on your head. Apparently she can do that now.”
I stifle a giggle and reach my hand under the blanket, feeling for him.
There’s a pause, and then Mathis speaks again, his voice lower but carrying a weight that makes my pulse spike. “I actually think that skill might come in handy. You both need to come out right now. It looks like the rebels didn’t want to wait until Solstice after all.”
In an instant, the air is sucked out of the room. Rylan’s eyes harden, the playfulness replaced by the sharp, focused gaze of a leader ready for battle. Since we came home from the trip, he’s been more on edge with each day that we get closer to the final trial, as if he’s been anticipating an attack. And now, here it is.
Rylan’s movements are quick, decisive. I move off his chest so that he can swing his long legs out of the bed and pull on his robe in one fluid motion. “Report,” he commands, as soon as he’s wrenched the door open.
Mathis steps into the room, only glancing at me for a second, the strain on his face only serving to further stoke my worry. Mathis was chosen to lead the guard for a reason. Neither he nor Rylan have a cowardly bone in their body. If Mathis is concerned, all Morath’s hell is about to break loose. “The first line of defence has already fallen. The bridges have been raised, but they’d already infiltrated the North Tower. They’ve brought Strength wielders and are building ramps to cross the rivers at the East and South Towers.”
“How many casualties? ”
“You don’t want to know.”
Rylan curses under his breath.
Gods. Ice chills in my veins. My heart hammers a terrifying rhythm as I shift to the edge of the bed, eyes glued to them, every part of my body buzzing with adrenaline.
“Deploy half of each Essence cadre to the North Tower,” Rylan orders, his tone filled with nothing but authority. The shift from the lighthearted, sexy, playful Rylan I just had in my arms to the Celestaris crown prince in command is jarring, almost chilling, the way he slides into his role with ease, as if it’s as simple as pulling on a coat. But it fills me with confidence. There is no one more equipped for the job of protecting this kingdom than him. “Split the rest between the other points of weakness. Have the Keepers meet me in the main courtyard immediately. We’ll be right there.”
Mathis nods, a shadow of relief flickering over his face at the clarity and assuredness of Rylan’s command. He turns and sprints down the corridor, footsteps echoing until they disappear.
The moment the door closes behind him, I’m already moving. We’ve practised endless drills for a castle attack, and this is no time for dilly-dallying; every moment counts. I run around the room, my pulse thrumming with urgency as I pull on my clothes, the calm of the evening shattered beyond repair.
Rylan watches me for a second as I move around the room, collecting all the pieces of my armour that he’d stripped off me in a hurry to get me naked earlier. Grabbing my arm as I push past him, he holds firm as he says, “So, uh, what are the chances you’ll stay here if I ask you—”
I reach for his shirt off the floor and pull it over his head, cutting off his words. He lets go of me only to pull the sleeves over his arms before grabbing my arm again when I try to step away. I sigh, shooting a frustrated look at him. “Are you asking me to be a coward at a time when you, and the kingdom, would ask everyone else to be brave?” Turning around, I gesture for him to fasten the clasps of my armour as I pull on my leather pants. “Would I be worthy of being Aquilith if I said yes? Would I be worthy of your time, your affection? Worthy of you ?”
There’s a pause as his fingers falter for just a moment on the last clasp. His voice drops, low and raw, as he leans in and whispers against my neck. “I wouldn’t think any less of you if you decided that this isn’t what you want for your life. But you can’t change your mind once you’re on the battlefield, Eira. It’s all or nothing out there. It’s too dangerous otherwise. And at least if you stay here, I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
I swallow and turn back to face him, pressing my palms against his chest, willing the tremor in my voice to stay buried. “That’s where we differ, Rylan. Because I would think less of you if you hid. When you wield the power you do? You go where you’re needed. So, please, don’t insult me by asking me to be someone I couldn’t and wouldn't be proud of. Don’t put me in that position just for your own peace of mind. Because you won’t like what I decide.”
He lets out a jagged breath, a fleeting look of fear, resignation and pride crossing his face before he nods. With practised efficiency, he finishes fastening the top button of my leathers, then, reaching around, he tightens the baldric around my waist, making sure it’s strong enough to hold my scabbard. Then, with eyes fierce and unwavering, he leans in, pressing a swift, fierce kiss to my lips. “Don’t get hurt, and stay by my side at all times. I don’t want to have to tear down this entire fucking castle looking for you. But I will.”
“I know.” A smile tugs at my lips. “Don’t worry, Lord Grumpypants,” I whisper, reaching out to button his shirt, “I’ll be right there beside you, being just as annoying as always.”
For a split second, something softens in his eyes, a glimpse of the man behind the unyielding mask. Then it’s gone, replaced by the determined fire that keeps him moving forward. He steps back, and lets me help him pull on his own armour, mentally slipping back into his role of commander, cold, calculated, lethal. Readying himself to face the storm that awaits us.
As soon as we exit Rylan’s wing, the sounds of the attack crash around us. Shouts, the chaotic clang of weapons, and the distant roar of battle fill the halls. Guards have abandoned their usual posts, likely pulled to defend the main entrances of the castle. The acrid scent of smoke stings my nose, mingling with the coppery tang of blood that lingers in the air.
As we run down the hallway to the courtyard, I see Brienne darting past, her eyes wide with panic, hair dishevelled.
Without thinking, I reach out and grab her arm. “Brienne!” I say, voice sharp with urgency.
“Eirabella!” she shouts, and then immediately bursts into tears. “I-I didn’t know where you w-were! I was so worried!”
I hug her tightly, gesturing to an impatient Rylan to give me just a moment. “Brienne, go to my room in Prince Rylan’s wing. Now. And do not leave until I come back, do you hear me?”
“I can help,” she whispers, her voice trembling but resolute. “Just tell me what to do, I’ll do whatever you say.”
“That is how you help,” I insist, gripping her arm tighter. “Stay out of the way of the guards and the magic wielders, and stay safe. Please! Promise me!”
Her mouth opens, a protest hovering on her lips, but she closes it and nods. “I promise. Stay safe, Eirabella.”
“I will.” I hug her again. “Now go!” I watch as she turns on her heel and runs, disappearing into the smoke-laden corridor.
Rylan’s voice cuts through my thoughts as we resume running through the castle. “Do you think any less of her for hiding somewhere safe?”
I meet his eyes for a brief second, catching the hint of worry beneath his hardened expression. “If she could do the things you, Master Tavyn, and Chasina have trained me to do, then yes, yes I would. But her whole job is to make me look pretty and ensure I don’t smell like a bear fart, so no, I don’t begrudge her being safe. Now stop nagging me like a grouchy midwife, Rylan. You have a kingdom to protect.”
His lips glimmer with the ghost of a smile as he presses his hand against my back, urging me forward, our footsteps thundering through the stone halls.
The courtyard soon bursts into view, alive with the chaos of war. The absolute cacophony of the battleground overwhelms me. Soldiers shouting orders, weapons clashing, and magic flaring in bursts of light and shadow. The scent of sweat and fear clings to the air, thick and suffocating. The other Keepers stand with their seconds-in-command, chosen weapons ready, their expressions tense and focused. I spot Selene and Doran near their mentors, their stances rigid with anticipation, and a touch of fear.
“Status!” Rylan barks, his voice slicing through the din. Grellor steps forward, sweat glistening on his brow. I’m glad to see him. Wherever the gruff guard is, I know Rylan will have a trusted man at his back.
“We have the South Tower under control for now, but they’re concentrating their numbers on the North and East Towers,” Grellor reports, his voice taut with urgency. “Attacker numbers are higher than we anticipated, and they have reinforcements building siege ramps, fast. The eastern flank is holding, but barely. We need to bolster defences there before they break through.”
Rylan’s face is unreadable. “The royal family?”
“His Majesty is in his quarters in the West Tower with the princesses. They are all safe, Your Highness.”
“And my cousin? ”
“He’s joined Mathis and the Light cadre at the East entrance.”
Rylan nods as his eyes narrow as he mentally calculates and strategises as he takes stock of the magic wielders in front of him. “You four will come with me and Eirabella to the North Tower,” he orders, pointing at Thynara, Gelfroy, the Psyrixis’s second-in-command, Doran, and Master Gavrik. “The rest of you, move to the East Tower. You’ll take orders from Captain Corvane when you get there.” He nods to Grellor. “Captain Farran, you’ll check on the Western and Southern fronts; if they don’t need you, join Captain Corvane in the East.”
Grellor’s jaw twitches, obviously wanting to argue, wanting to stay to protect his friend and prince, but he doesn’t dare to say so. He simply bows to Rylan before thumping his fist against his chest, and then, surprisingly, gives me a short nod of his head before flinging himself down the West corridor. I hope it’s not the last time I’ll see him.
Rylan pauses, taking a step back to meet each of the Strength wielder’s eyes. “Remember who you are, and why you’re here. We’re not just fighting for stone and banners—we fight for every soul in this castle, every hope they hold onto. Aetherhold falls, and all of Celador falls. Show them what true strength looks like. We stand together, and we will not fail.”
A silent understanding passes between us all. Rylan holds his sword out in front of him, the gleam of its edge catching the firelight. One by one, the other Keepers place their weapons into the circle. I watch as he closes his eyes, his lips moving in a silent incantation. The air around us vibrates, and a shiver runs down my spine as the Keeper stones flare to life, each one blazing with its unique colour.
Rylan’s eyes snap open, fierce and resolute. “Morath be with you all. I will see each and every one of you after the battle. ”
For a heartbeat, the world pauses, and I feel the weight of his words settle over me like a promise. He turns, nods to me, and we’re off again, surging into the fray toward the North Tower, the other four close behind us. The sound of pounding boots and the shouts of the wounded grow louder, and the chilled night air is a mix of smoke and iron.
Rylan’s command is absolute, his voice clear as he calls out orders to the guards we pass. Even in the chaos, he stands as a beacon, a force of certainty amid the madness. I watch him, imbued with power, and I can’t help but feel a surge of pride. Here is the man who carries the weight of the realm on his shoulders, and yet he’s been nothing but unflinching and determined, an unconquerable post in human form.
We reach the North Tower, and the sight that greets us is a total frenzy—the front line of guards haphazardly holding back the attackers, rebels forcing their way past fallen debris, their faces lit with determination. I catch my breath, steel my nerves, and meet Rylan’s gaze one last time before we dive headlong into the fight.
“You ready?” he asks.
My only answer is the raising of my staff sky high.