Chapter 9 Kiera
Kiera
Five days passed and still no map.
I traded Yarina’s bed for one of my own in a smaller lodge shared with Nikella, who was always asleep when I came to bed and gone by the time I woke.
Frieda agreed to lend me a horse and some supplies for my journey. In return, she put me to work around the camp, patching lodges, cooking meals, drawing water, cleaning dishes, and caring for the horses.
She’d asked me if I hunted, and I said no. Instead, I’d watched Aiden and Maz go out with a small hunting party every day.
Frieda tried to show me how to clean their kills and preserve the hides and meat from the various animals. But all I could see was Korvin carving Maz’s back. When Frieda noticed my pale, shaking hands, she kindly gave me another job tending their small gardens. I was so grateful I hugged her.
I found that I truly enjoyed kneeling in the dirt among the tangle of stems and colorful vegetables. It reminded me of Mother with her flowers.
Even though Frieda kept me busy from dawn until dusk, I still took meals with Maz, Yarina, and Nikella. Jek usually joined as well, entertaining us with wild stories and even earning a few smiles from Nikella.
Nikella also told stories, but they were of the Four and their time. When she spoke, I finally saw her as the other Teachers I’d known growing up. But this time, I listened more closely.
Children of all ages would follow her, asking her questions. She answered every single one and even taught reading, writing, and counting to the interested ones.
I shared time with nearly every person in camp, except Aiden. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night of the funerals.
Maz always gave excuses for his absence, even when I didn’t ask for any. He said Aiden had already eaten, or he was on watch duty, or a dozen other things. But Maz’s sad smile said he knew Aiden was simply avoiding any space with me in it.
Just as well. If we weren’t talking to each other, then I wouldn’t have to say goodbye.
The idea of saying goodbye to the others pained me more each day. Especially Maz. He was smiling and joking more. He threw himself into tasks to regain his strength. But there was still a shadow of pain in his eyes that I felt responsible for.
I kept asking Nikella if the map was ready, and she’d shake her head and say, “Not yet.” I didn’t know if she was holding off on purpose, or if it was truly taking that long.
A small, cowardly part of my mind was relieved that she was taking her time. I was enjoying this pocket of peace I’d found in the mountain meadow.
Maz said they’d soon paddle north on the Yargoth River for the fireseed harvest on Arduen’s Mountain. It sounded beautiful and exciting, but would also be the perfect moment for me to slip away south. Back home.
The day before we all planned to leave, Frieda asked me to harvest any ripe vegetables so the frost wouldn’t take them while the Yargoths were gone.
I took my basket to the sunny patch of dirt where colorful squash and rows of corn were ready for picking. A few children and older men and women also meandered the rows, filling their baskets.
They chattered among themselves about the upcoming harvest festival. Frieda said they usually celebrated at the foot of Arduen’s Mountain with other clans while several Teachers and appointed Dags collected the fireseeds from the glowing flowers.
In Aquinon, we’d celebrated Terraum—god of the harvest—by dressing up and having grand feasts. All for a bounty from the fields of Pravara that we didn’t grow or harvest.
But here in the warm sunshine and cool air with my fingers plucking each vegetable, I truly felt connected to the earth. I sent up a prayer to Father Terraum that the food I gathered would get the Yargoths through the winter.
A long shadow fell over me. I startled, wondering if I’d accidentally summoned Terraum. But when I looked up, it was no god. Just an angry man who looked like one.
“When were you going to tell me you’re leaving?” Aiden demanded, his arms folded over his chest. His black shirt was untied at the top, the laces swaying in the breeze.
He glared down at me as if he could intimidate me. Or provoke me. I refused to give in to either desire.
I turned back to my yellow squash. “I don’t need to tell you anything. I assumed Nikella would inform you if you realized I was gone.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have added that last part. I didn’t want him to think I missed his presence. But I supposed he could take my words however he gods-damn wished.
He growled in frustration, and I could almost hear him running his fingers through his hair.
“Were you planning to run out on Maz and his family as well? The people who gave you food and shelter? Or was it just me?”
I scowled and yanked on the stubborn squash until the stem snapped. “I’m not running out on anyone. I asked Frieda for a horse and supplies, and Nikella for a map. I was going to say goodbye to Maz and Yarina tomorrow.”
I placed the squash in my basket with the others, but didn’t pick it up as I stood to face him.
“I’m not letting you go,” he said.
Despite my best intentions, fury rose like a storm inside me. “Let me go? I wasn’t aware that I was your prisoner.”
“You’re not. But I can’t let you go on some foolish quest—”
“I am not asking your permission,” I hissed in his face. “Foolish or not, I need to make sure my brother and sister are alive because I’m the only one who cares if they are.”
“I am just as responsible for their lives as I am for yours,” he snarled back. “I swore to your mother—”
“Don’t you dare invoke my mother.” I stabbed my finger into his chest. “If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive. You got her into a mess that forced you to kill her to clean it up.”
Aiden seized the finger that was trying to puncture his chest, his green eyes blazing. “And I will never forgive myself for it. But I wasn’t the first one she went to for help in getting rid of your father.”
I froze, my heart slamming against my chest. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie? I have nothing left to lose. I’m trying to help you find some gods-damned peace.”
“By telling me my mother—my sweet, innocent mother—was soliciting assassins in her spare time because she wanted the throne that damn much? You’re insane.”
He growled, tightening his grip on my finger.
“She wasn’t soliciting assassins, princess.
She was only allowed out of the palace on festival days to go to the Temple.
She quietly asked the Teachers for help.
Do you remember Librius? He knew Nikella and knew I was in Aquinon.
He arranged for me to meet Brielle at the Temple.
She was my mother’s best friend. She recognized me instantly. ”
Some of the rage left my body like a dying wind. I swallowed hard. Queen Rhea had died giving birth to Aiden after my father had murdered King Tristan and Renwell had shot her with an arrow as she fled.
But my mother and his mother . . . had been friends?
Aiden’s voice softened. “Brielle said she was pregnant with Everett when my parents died. She was distraught and vowed that one day she would make it right, however she could.”
“And you used that vow for your own revenge plan,” I whispered, my voice in jagged pieces.
His eyes searched mine, my pain reflecting in his. “She wanted me to be king. To restore my father’s house. But I refused. I merely wanted Weylin gone. She agreed to take the throne and clear a path for Everett one day.”
“That’s why you wanted Everett to be king.”
Aiden nodded. “It was what she wanted. Now tell me, am I lying?”
My instincts said no, but he’d bested me in Death and Four, so I was no great judge. Which reminded me of something else. “You lied to me before,” I said. “When we were playing Death and Four at The Weary Traveler. You said you knew nothing about my mother’s death.”
He scoffed. “Should I have told the whole tavern that I killed the queen? That I aimed to kill the king as well? I survive by not sharing all my secrets with every person who asks. Though you did try your damnedest. Tell me, how much did your old mentor know by the end?”
I tried to jerk away from him, but he held me fast. He leaned closer, his scent and warmth muddling my senses. I desperately tried not to think about kissing him last night.
Aiden continued, seemingly unaffected. “Clearly, Renwell knew about the heist and the date of our attack, but what else did you tell him? Maz insists that you had nothing to do with him being captured and tortured. I’m inclined to believe him, but it doesn’t make sense.
Why would a spy only divulge information under the duress of losing her supposed enemy? ”
Hope sparked in my chest. “He doesn’t blame me for what happened?”
Aiden’s jaw clenched. “He still thinks it would’ve been better if you’d let Korvin torture him instead of giving up the date.”
“You would’ve done the same thing in my position.”
“I would’ve lied my way out.”
I barked out a bitter laugh. “Renwell always knows when someone is lying.”
“He’s not a god, princess.”
My lip curled. “You forget who put me in your cell. Why would he do that if he didn’t think I was just the right key to unlock your secrets? You even said it yourself.”
“Yes, I did,” Aiden said softly. “I thought it was much too convenient that such a beautiful, intriguing woman ended up in my cell. I thought perhaps he did recognize me in his torture room, and he knew what my weakness would be when his fists didn’t find one.”
My heart shrank in on itself like a flower hiding from the night.
Renwell had admitted to figuring out Aiden’s identity before I did.
Another secret I’d kept from my mentor. But Aiden didn’t need to know that.
Why defend myself when I’d still done the unforgivable in his eyes?
Yet, he continued to defend his own unforgivable crime.
“You didn’t recognize me, even though you knew my mother,” I blurted out, then immediately wished I could call the words back. They made me sound weak and desperate. I knew I didn’t look like her, but it still hurt.
Something flickered in Aiden’s eyes. Moments drifted by as I became acutely aware of how his fist wrapped around my finger. How his dark hair fluttered over his drawn brow. How my knee brushed his.
My stomach quivered.
I was casting about for something else to yell at him for when he murmured, “You’re more like your mother than you think.” He glanced down at my captured finger. “She always had dirt under her fingernails, too. I never asked her why.”
Tears burned suddenly in my throat. Grief was strange. Days would pass without a single tear shed, then a little reminder of her, of who she’d been, would hit me so hard it felt like she’d left me yesterday.
“She loved to garden,” I whispered. “Flowers. Her favorites were lilies. She was always trying to grow different colors.”
Why was I telling him this? He didn’t need to know. He hadn’t cared to ask back then, so why would he care now?
Suddenly, Aiden dipped his head and placed a featherlight kiss on my fingertip.