Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
ARA
“I had the feeling you needed to get out for a bit.” Dar smiles at me while we walk down a bustling street.
“And you weren’t wrong.” I return his smile. For the first time since we arrived this morning, I can breathe freely.
We are in the old part of Avina. The streets are narrow but clean, and the sheer number of shops lining them makes me gawk. Dar laughs about my reaction.
A heavenly smell of something sweet and fruity tickles my nose, and when I find the source and stop in front of the bakery, my brother shakes his head.
“Why am I not surprised? I take you shopping in the capital, and the first thing you want is to buy food.”
“Walking raised an appetite, and had we come by the smithy first, it could have been weapons.” I wink at him.
He groans. “Mom told me to take you to get accessories, whatever that means.”
I shrug. “A few new daggers seem to fit that description, and I have more use for them than for a fan, silk gloves, or ribbons.”
“Fine by me. As long as you don’t tell on me.” We grin at each other.
Ten minutes later, I munch happily on an apple tart, the sweet and acidic flavor exploding on my tongue, ending in a warm note of cinnamon. I hum with contentment, and my brother grins.
“Good thing no one knows how easily it is to buy your loyalty,” he teases, and I swat his arm.
“Bribery is not needed. I would do anything for you, anyway.”
“The same goes for me, little sparrow.” He pulls me into his side, ruffling my hair like he used to when I was little.
“Hey.” I jump out of his grasp. “I’m not a child anymore, Dar.”
“Oooh, is there someone concerned about her looks? Maybe because of a certain prince?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I feign ignorance. A commotion up ahead draws my attention.
There is shouting. A little girl clings to a woman while two guards try to separate them. Mother and child, by the looks of it.
“You can’t have her,” the woman screams. “She didn’t do anything.”
“Mom,” the wailed word goes over into a high-pitched screech once the guard succeeds in pulling the girl away.
Dar tries to steer me away, but I slip past his arm. “What is going on?”
“Little sparrow, we need to go.”
“We have to help,” I disagree. “They can’t just take her. Why are they taking her?”
“Ow, she bit me.” The guard drops the girl. “Cursed spawn of the devil.”
And realization dawns. “Are they taking her because she is cursed?” I hiss.
“Stay quiet,” Dar warns.
“I don’t think so.” And I move in the girl’s direction, who’s now playing a life-threatening version of catch with the guard. But for now, she’s winning. And I’ll make sure it stays that way.
“Ara,” Dar warns, grabbing for me, but he is too late, and I’m already crossing the street. The guard never sees me coming, or doesn’t take me for a threat. Either way, my punch catches him off guard, and he falls like a tree.
The girl blinks at me before a smile takes over her face. The second guard is on me within seconds. But Dar steps in front of me.
“She attacked a royal guard.”
“Now surely you don’t want to tell me a delicate woman knocked out a royal guard,” he placates the man, who instantly bristles. I scoff. Delicate woman , what a joke.
“I know who you are, General Blackstone. I will file a complaint about this,” the man threatens and then helps his companion up, who slowly comes around.
Mother and daughter use the commotion to disappear, and I just hope they’re smart enough to go into hiding.
They exchange a few more words before Darren marches off, seething, pulling me with him. He doesn’t say a word until we’re back in his rooms in the palace and the door is locked.
His rooms are large, representative of his status at court, and so tidy that they appear almost uninhabited.
Our family's dark green color is prominent in the fabrics, and various maps decorate the walls, dotted with markings.
Pictures of our family and the fortress Blackstone are the only personal touches to be found.
“That was incredibly stupid,” he whisper-shouts. “Openly siding with a cursed, attacking a guard—are you out of your mind?” He paces the room, his steps muffled by the thick carpet.
“They would have killed her,” I go toe-to-toe with him now, forcing him to stop pacing. “Would you have let them take me without a fight, too?”
“No, of course not.” He drags a hand through his hair. “But my priority is you and the rest of my family. Your actions today could have gotten us all killed.”
My eyes jump to the images of Elena and Tyre on his desk. Guilt settles in my gut. I haven’t thought that far.
“What did you expect me to do? Just stand by and watch?”
He sighs. “We can’t rescue everyone, and sometimes we have to accept that. You have a big heart, little sparrow, but one day it’s going to get you killed.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise, anyway. I know I can’t rescue everyone, but at least I can try.”
“There will come a day you’ll have to prioritize, and then you’ll realize it’s not that simple.”
I cross my arms.
He sighs. “I love you, little sparrow, but you have to start thinking about the consequences of your actions. Far too many people are now interested in you, and it will only get worse once the betrothal becomes public.”
“I will not marry Frederick.”
“I thought you wanted to save everyone?” He raises his eyebrow mockingly. “And what better position to do that than as their queen?”
I open my mouth, then close it without saying anything.
“It’s not that easy, is it?” he asks. “Just make sure you get your priorities in order before you enter this floor.” He makes a sweeping gesture encompassing the palace.
“Because there will come moments of uncomfortable choices.” He rests his hands on my shoulders.
“And I won’t risk all of you for a girl I don’t even know.
” He shrugs. “I’m sorry, but that is my truth.
Now get some rest, before they start fussing over you, because they will. ”
The royal seamstress wears a subtle sneer while she looks at me in the dress. We are in my room, and this is the third dress she put me in. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know what she’s thinking. It’s obvious in the way she eyes me.
I’m not soft enough, not fragile enough. Too many muscles, too many scars, too many calluses on my hands. I bet her list is longer, but those are the things that come to mind.
Remembering the way Tate had looked at me about a week ago makes me want to stick out my tongue and tell her at least one of the princes deems me adequate. Only memories of his reaction once he knew who I was dampen my mood.
What had I expected? My family’s connections and influence come before me, always. I should know that by now.
A memory hits me.
I’m eighteen and moping since Joel isn’t home for Equinox like I hoped. He hasn’t come home at all since he left a year ago.
I’m watching dancers twirl over the grass between tall pyres surrounding the meadow, keeping the mist at bay. I’m always just watching.
Everyone knows my family and my brothers. And they are too important to cross them over something as insignificant as a girl.
A hand enters my view, waiting, like… My eyes snap to the boy in front of me. I have never seen him before. Giddy excitement flashes through me when he doesn’t take back his invitation.
A dance becomes many, spring flows into a summer filled with laughter, kisses, and secret meetings. He is sweet, he is charming, and I lap up his attention and think myself in love. I trust him and give myself to him.
He says the sweetest things, promises me the moon and the stars … only to pretend we never even met when I accompany my brother to the smithy on the following day. My excitement had drained quickly, leaving me subdued and quiet. Bubbling energy turned to heaviness.
That same night, I confronted him. “You are sweet, you are fun, but you are not worth alienating your family over.” Then he suggested that we should continue to meet in secret, and I kicked his ass.
I smirk, thinking about how surprised he looked. It was as if he’d suddenly forgotten who raised me.
Tate walked away, too, a little voice whispers. And still … the way he acted earlier … my stomach buzzes with a flock of birds at the memory.
“No, that doesn’t work,” the seamstress says, drawing me out of my thoughts. “All those scars are too noticeable. We’ll have to go with something else.” Her eyes are still on me, assessing and judging.
I was surprised when Frederick knocked at my door with the woman in tow, who now scrutinizes me. She came armed with a myriad of dresses and fabrics to get me presentable for tonight’s ball, whatever she meant by that, when I had still been in the monster of a dress I wore before.
Okay, granted, it had suffered a bit due to Solaris’s flames and sported new creases since I had been anything but gentle with it during the flight.
She rustles through the dresses on the hanger next to her before pulling out a dark blue gown. Pushing it into my arms, she ushers me back behind the changing screen before stripping me out of the current dress with efficient and quick moves.
“Wait,” she barks, then bustles off.
As if I would have fled the room dressed in the thin undergown I’m currently wearing. Yes, I admit the thought is appealing, but I’m still not closer to knowing my way around the palace.
She whispers with Ana, and then some drawers open and close before she comes back, another corset clutched in her hand, and I groan. She sends me a sharp look.
“We have to accentuate your figure in some way if we hide away all your skin. Your waist will look positively tiny,” she declares. I try to tell myself she only wants me to look stunning tonight.
Not for my sake, I’m not that delusional, but it was obvious she adores Frederick when he brought her here. So I am sure she will do everything to make him look good, and he informed me that I would be on his arm tonight.