Chapter Thirteen – Mira
Chapter Thirteen
Mira
I doubled the guard on Cassius, just to be safe. We hadn’t spoken since the night of Roran’s unexpected arrival, but I hadn’t forgotten the ruthless pragmatism in his eyes when he’d advised me to kill Nari.
Velanthe had been equally vocal on the subject – though her answer, as usual, was to turn to blood magic.
But so far, things were progressing surprisingly well. V?lund had taken to life in the Temple with ease. He had even accepted my invitation to distribute much needed food, water and supplies to the war-torn refugees.
The sunlight played across his face, softening the harshness of his features.
My eyes went to the sacks of wheat he carried, slung over his broad shoulders, and something in me softened too.
I’d never seen a leader – a ruler – who was willing to get their hands dirty.
Who actually seemed to enjoy helping and interacting with their people, not out of duty or for some political scheme, but because they truly cared.
V?lund caught me looking and raised a dark brow. ‘What is it?’
‘They love you,’ I said, nodding at the refugees, who thronged the path between their makeshift dwellings. They ventured close as we passed, brushing my skirts with their hands and staring up at V?lund with adoring faces.
‘I wouldn’t go that far. Capital-dwellers are usually wary of the clans.’
‘Do they look wary to you?’ I asked as a group of children raced forward. The warriors behind me shifted, but I held up a hand and they remained where they were.
Bending down to their level, I smiled as I accepted a flower from a little girl.
‘It’s black,’ she told me in her high, sweet voice. ‘Black for the Sorceress.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, moved by the gesture. She darted off in the way children often do, taking her giggling friends with her – but not before I saw the admiring glances they shot in V?lund’s direction.
Yet the clan leader’s expression appeared troubled. ‘I shouldn’t have accompanied you.’
His words cut. I rarely had company on excursions like these – not beyond the warriors and priestesses, and they always kept a discreet distance. Having him with me had made the weight of my responsibilities feel a little lighter.
‘It’s my fault.’ I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice. ‘I shouldn’t have burdened you with this. These are my people. My responsibility.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’ V?lund’s gaze was on the black-petalled flower. ‘Seeing us together like this . . . it sets up certain expectations.’
When he glanced back up, I saw his concern. Not for himself – but for these people.
‘And you’re worried you won’t be able to fulfil those expectations.’ Because you’re already planning to hand me over to him.
‘I haven’t decided anything yet, Kasmira.’
But the fact that we were even having this conversation . . . ‘You’ll tell me if you accept Roran’s offer, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’ He hesitated. ‘I hope you understand that it isn’t anything personal. As leaders . . . we have to make the best choice for our people.’
‘That we do,’ I said as we walked, stopping to hand out food and greet the men, women and children who rushed forward to meet us. ‘But do you really believe Roran is what’s best for them ?’
I allowed the silence to stretch on, knowing that V?lund’s doubts would stretch along with it.
‘Come on,’ I told him, approaching the saddled stallions waiting for us at the edge of the thick forest. ‘If I recall, I promised you a visit to the treetop villages. Consider it a reward for all your help this morning.’
V?lund smoothly mounted – far more at ease in the saddle than I was. But my horse-riding skills had improved over the last few months, and I waved away the priestess who hurried over to help me.
As we turned our horses away from the Temple, I noticed V?lund cast one last glance at the refugees behind us.
Hope. That was what I saw on their faces – what he would see too. Hope for a brighter future.
My legs dangled out over empty space.
Far below, I could see wooden bridges and dwellings, artfully constructed around the ancient trees of the Wilds. Beyond them was the forest floor, distantly illuminated by mottled sunlight.
I closed my eyes as the warmth of the sun fell on my face, listening to the creak of the wooden bridge to my left, the chittering and chirping of the colourful birds, and the sigh of the wind in the trees.
When I opened my eyes, it was to see V?lund watching me with unexpected intensity.
V?lund shifted back from me – he had been leaning in, I realised now – and retreated to the centre of our treetop lookout. I followed, reclining next to him on the thick, handwoven rug.
‘You’ve hardly touched your food,’ I said, glancing at the picnic the chieftain had arranged for us: grained bread and an assortment of fruits and nuts. ‘I can ask for something else.’
‘I was hoping to save some for your people – the capital-dwellers outside the Temple walls.’
It was a wonderful idea. But . . .
‘Why this distinction between the Wilds and the rest of Kalure? I’ve never really understood it.’
V?lund took the black-petalled flower from my hand, rolling it in his palm. ‘What did your high priestess tell you about the deaths of Queen Rúna and her consort?’
I blinked in surprise. ‘Only that Zandri was involved. I assumed that was why Arioch banished her from Kalure – as punishment for killing their parents and attempting to take the throne.’
‘I wondered why you were so quick to embrace Temple teachings. It makes sense if you didn’t know the full extent of it.’
‘The full extent of what ?’
‘Of how your grandparents died. The Sorceress,’ he continued, ‘was beloved in the cities and throughout the Wilds. It was under her benevolent rule that Kalure was united. But over time, her descendants started being ruled by Temple rhetoric. They stopped visiting the Wilds, losing touch with the natural, pure core of their magic and turning to darker powers instead.’
‘Blood magic,’ I said quietly.
‘Blood magic,’ V?lund agreed. ‘As I’m sure you know, it comes with a steep cost. If you push too hard, it pushes back – and it isn’t always possible to know your limits.
Fighting broke out between the Wilds and the capital during your great-great-grandmother’s reign.
She used blood magic to win, costing many lives – including her own.
Queen Rúna grew up without a mother as a result, and when she came to power, she turned against the Temple and banned blood magic.
But Zandri disobeyed her edict, and was stripped of her position as heir.
The priestesses retaliated on her behalf and cut down the very queen they had once sworn to protect. ’
The hostility between the clansmen and priestesses made sense now. Velanthe had told me they were wary of blood magic, but she’d never mentioned–
‘Was – did Velanthe . . .’ I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Didn’t know what I would do if the answer was yes.
‘No one knows exactly who gave the order,’ V?lund replied. ‘I only know that Velanthe is the high priestess now. It’s possible that the high priestess at the time was cut down during the assassination.’
That sounded more likely; Velanthe would have been young when my grandparents were killed. Probably too young to be high priestess. But not too young to be a priestess. Not too young to have taken part in–
I cut off the thought. If I started doubting Velanthe now, then where would I be?
‘Your father had many advisers,’ V?lund said, his words slow and careful. ‘Admittedly he turned against the Temple, so there were no priestesses on his council. But he tried to give everyone a voice.’
‘Did you . . .’ My voice was soft, tentative. ‘Did you know him?’
‘I met him a few times. From what I saw, King Arioch was a good man. My father was one of the clansmen on his council. He always spoke highly of him.’
I looked away, not wanting V?lund to see the raw emotion on my face. ‘I wonder what would have happened,’ I murmured, ‘if Emperor Kalias hadn’t invaded. If we had met under different circumstances.’
‘I would have courted you,’ V?lund replied, his emerald eyes intent on mine. ‘I am certain of that much.’
There it was again: that fierce, warrior-like intensity – except it was focused entirely on me. And even though I had wanted to draw him in, was relying on it, I wasn’t nearly as unaffected as I needed to be.
V?lund smiled slightly at my expression. He wasn’t quick to smile, but when he did, his smiles were always warm and genuine. After my experiences in the Ravalian Court, his openness took me by surprise.
‘Do you go by Mira, as you used to in Ravalia?’ he asked, breaking the comfortable silence. ‘Or do you prefer Kasmira?’
I frowned, wondering if there was a deeper meaning behind his question. Was this an attempt to assess my loyalties?
Which are you, princess? Emperor Kalias had asked me once. Ravalian or Kalurian? Because you can’t be both.
‘Call me Kasmira,’ I said firmly. ‘I left my past in Ravalia behind when I came here.’
‘I see.’ A delicate pause. ‘Yet two Ravalians act as your personal attendants, or perhaps bodyguards. And the priestess who rarely leaves your side is Ravalian as well.’
‘I am half Ravalian,’ I acknowledged, choosing my words with care.
‘I suppose it’s only natural that I have some remaining ties with Ravalia.
But I hope you can see that I have great love and appreciation for Kalure.
And . . . I am learning, V?lund. I want to do better – to create a lasting peace between the Wilds and the rest of Kalure.
’ I paused, then admitted, ‘Circumstances have forced me to be heavily reliant on the Temple, but I am not blindly led by their beliefs. If I have the chance, I would establish a council, as my father did. I would like to be able to connect with my people, to embrace every part of this beautiful country and its history.’