Chapter 4 Kaia #2
I told Solace that I would speak with my father about embarking on the next adventure with the other Alpha or Alphas stupid enough to go.
But waking up, I knew my father would never entertain that conversation.
He would laugh me out of the courtroom or merely dismiss my pleas.
Even with my mother’s fighting skills and her dagger sheathed in the first layer of my dress, my father would never allow me to leave the confines of Valoria.
I let out a small sigh, assuming a more relaxed demeanor as I stop just shy of my carriage, inches away from my father’s horse.
He is dressed in his formal robes, deep purple edged with gold thread, his crown sitting heavily on his graying hair.
He looks older than he did even a few months ago, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper, his shoulders carrying a weight that seems to grow with each passing day.
The excitement of the feast from last night is gone, replaced with a seriousness meant for sending soldiers off to what he considers war. He turns when he hears my footsteps, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "Change of heart, Princess Kaia?"
I force myself to smile, projecting the reserved Omega princess he wants to see.
It pains me that I am not just Kaia to him or ‘sweetheart’ like I used to be.
When Mom was alive, I was more than just a title, but that will all change when I come back with the supposed riches my father is after.
"I will get nowhere if I fight this, Father.
I should embrace it, should I not? Show my support for those brave enough to risk their lives for my hand? "
Something flickers across his face, too quick for me to identify.
Pleasure, perhaps, that I am finally behaving as he has always wanted.
Or maybe suspicion, wondering what has prompted this sudden shift in my behavior.
But he does not question it. He simply nods, accepting my words at face value because he wants to believe them.
"A wise decision," he says, approval in his voice that makes my skin crawl. "It is time you started taking your responsibilities seriously. These warriors deserve to know that their future queen supports their quest."
I turn to wave at all the warriors that are being sent off, several of them bowing or offering a salute.
A wave of emotion flows through me, greed, anger, excitement, fear…
all of it tiring and unnecessary. They see the prize they are fighting for, the Omega they hope to win.
They do not see me as a person with thoughts and feelings and ambitions of my own.
I am simply an object to be claimed, a trophy to be displayed alongside the dragon's head they hope to bring back.
The knowledge sits bitter on my tongue, but I keep my expression as pleasant as I can despite the circumstances.
"Who do you think might win?" I ask my father, playing the part of the interested daughter.
He considers the question, his eyes scanning the assembled warriors with the calculating gaze of someone assessing livestock. "Only time will tell. But those two there, they have the best odds."
He points to two Alphas standing near the front of the group.
One is a woman, tall and broad-shouldered, with short-cropped dark hair and a scar running down her left cheek.
She carries a massive sword strapped to her back and stands with the easy confidence of someone who has seen real combat.
The other is a man, perhaps a few years older, with sun-weathered skin and hands that speak of years of wielding weapons.
He is checking the straps on his armor with meticulous care, and I can sense the focused determination radiating from him even from this distance.
I nod cordially, as if this information means something to me. As if I care which of these strangers might survive long enough to try to claim me as their reward. "Impressive."
"They are some of our finest warriors," my father says with satisfaction. "If anyone can succeed where others have failed, it will be one of them."
I want to ask him why he keeps sending our finest warriors to their probable deaths.
I want to demand to know what he thinks dragon gold will actually accomplish, whether it will bring my mother back or fill the emptiness that has consumed him since her death.
I want to scream that his obsession is destroying our kingdom, one dead soldier at a time.
But I do not say any of those things. Instead, I simply smile and climb into my carriage, my bags clutched in one hand and my heart pounding against my ribs.
A few odd glances are thrown my way as they catch my bare feet and my less than full attire.
My current gown isn’t meant for the outdoors but it won’t stay on long anyway.
I’ve packed better clothing for when we reach the edge of Valoria, including shoes that protect my feet from the harsh terrain.
I sag back against the plush interior, velvet cushions and silk curtains surrounding me. I have ridden in this carriage hundreds of times for various royal functions, always with Solace standing guard outside or riding alongside. It has never felt like a prison before, but it does now.
However, everything is planned. Solace will be riding with her own mare alongside my carriage now that I have joined the sendoff. And then, at the right time, I’ll slip out and continue onto the Shadowlands with my Beta at my side.
It’s perfect.
Until the opposite door I climbed in opens.
I look up, expecting perhaps one of the servants with a forgotten item or a last-minute message from someone in the castle. Instead, I find myself face-to-face with Solace, and she does not look happy.
She is dressed head to toe in black, as she always is.
The fitted jacket and pants of her uniform hug her frame, designed for both mobility and protection.
Today, though, she is wearing light armor beneath the jacket, pieces that will not restrict her movement if she needs to shift into her wolf form but will offer some defense against casual attacks.
Her long black hair is pulled back from her face in a braid, her luminous dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.
But it is not desire I see in those eyes right now. It is anger. Concern. Betrayal.
Sparks of blue flash in her eyes, her magic simmering just beneath the surface.
Against every rule of protocol, Solace climbs into the carriage and sits down across from me before closing the door behind her, sealing us into this small private space.
She leans forward, elbows on her knees, her voice dangerously quiet when she speaks.
"Explain."