Chapter 13 #2
‘In a manner. To the mountains which keep us safe. That is why we dress in such a way when we guard the Pyrrhic. At other times, as you have deduced, white is our chosen colour for battle.’
I hum thoughtfully. Dressing to honour the mountains that keep them safe.
And no doubt to keep them camouflaged too, Fen says.
There’s no further time to mull it over, as we are now well within the King’s earshot.
‘Rose,’ he says when he reaches us. ‘Prince Kyor.’ He inclines his head politely. ‘I am grateful you’ve made time to meet me today. I wonder, would you do me the pleasure of a walk by the river?’
‘Of course.’
Kyor and I both start towards him, and Magnus’s attention shifts to the prince. ‘Actually, Your Highness, I thought you might benefit from a conversation with a different member of our court.’
As he gestures towards Uzra, I realise that the faces of the dark-haired men accompanying the former Wrohelm guard are devoid of Issen lace markings.
I then take in the wolves at their sides and turn to see Kyor bristling.
Whether it’s from the thought of leaving me alone with the king or the prospect of spending time with Morathkian defectors, I’m not sure.
Possibly both. But even if he doesn’t see it himself, I know he needs to face the truth about his father’s past. Maybe Uzra will be the one to help him. I can only hope.
‘Prince Kyor,’ Uzra says as he steps forward, ‘word of your skill with a sword precedes you. I would like to see if the rumours are true. A sparring session, perhaps?’
‘You’re asking the son of the man you betrayed to fight with you? Surely you will see the irony in dying by my hand after making such a request?’ Kyor replies coolly.
‘Just a friendly spar, that’s all. These rusty muscles of mine could do with a stretch. Besides, you strike me as someone with too much honour for such lowly behaviour as killing a man only seeking conversation.’
Kyor’s back teeth grind together because Uzra is not wrong.
‘I’m afraid I do not feel comfortable leaving Rose alone,’ he says stiffly before turning back to Magnus. ‘Family or not, you are still a stranger to us. No insult intended.’
‘Of course not,’ Magnus replies evenly. ‘Perhaps you could call your wolves instead? They can accompany Rose and me as chaperones, if that sets your mind at ease? Or you may keep your bonded wolf with you, if you would prefer.’
As Kyor considers his response, I reach for Fen.
Any chance you’re on standby? Magnus wants to go for a walk. Without Kyor.
Turn around, Little Raven.
I do. Fen and Elska are already there.
‘I’ll be fine with Fen,’ I tell Kyor, slowly untangling my arm from his.
I can’t help but think this is the right thing for him.
‘Go and talk to the men,’ I say quietly, my fingers trailing over his, feeling him clutch onto me for a moment.
‘Or just spar with them. It’ll be worth it to check the state of your shoulder.
I’ll meet you back at the room shortly.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asks, reluctance evident in every line of his body.
‘I am.’
Aware of the people watching, I rise onto my toes and press a quick kiss to his lips.
‘Trust me. I’ll be fine.’ I drop my voice further still. ‘Fen will tell Elska if we need you.’
‘And we’ll come running,’ he promises, ‘ready to rip apart anyone who dares hurt you into a million scraps of flesh and bone.’
‘You’ve spent too long with Elska,’ I complain.
He grins, but I can see the lingering concern in his eyes. ‘We’ll stay close.’
I turn to join Fen and Magnus, then hesitate and glance back at the prince.
‘Oh, and Kyor?’
‘Yes?’
‘Try to avoid throwing any lightning bolts while I’m gone.’
‘I make no promises,’ he says loudly, his eyes glinting.
I grin back at him.
Of course he doesn’t.
A flurry of nerves threatens to take hold as I walk away from Kyor with the Issen king. It isn’t fear, exactly. Just anxiety. Or fear of the unknown, perhaps.
‘How did your training go?’ he asks.
A smile tugs at my lips. ‘I’m sure you’ve already spoken to Stefan about my training.’
The king stops and turns to look at me. ‘No. If I want to know about your progress, I will ask you.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘Your chaperones are not here to spy on you, Rose, or your friends. It is why I’ve insisted they keep their distance in the library and in the healers’ quarters.’
‘If they’re not there to spy on us, why do we need them?’ I ask.
‘They are there for everyone’s best interest,’ he answers annoyingly illusively, and I can’t help but assume it’s to do with the different factions Toren mentioned. ‘Come, I said I would show you the source of the music today. If you would still like to hear it?’
‘Yes, that would be nice, thank you.’
We walk side by side to the river. The water is crystal clear and gently flowing.
It’s far less treacherous than the river where Fen found himself stuck, and I’m surprised to see that, in addition to the one Magnus made for me, there are several other bridges both up and downstream from where we’re standing.
Perhaps it was just too dark last night for me to see them.
‘Our men and women build bridges to cross to the sacred lands,’ Magnus says without me even needing to ask.
‘It is not compulsory that they make their own, but many find it offers a clarity of sorts. A separation from their thoughts in the city to those in the sacred lands. There must be several people enjoying the peace of the caves today.’
‘So you don’t just worship in temples?’ I ask.
‘We worship with every footstep we take,’ he says with a shrug. ‘Or at least, that is what we supposedly do. Me, I need a little more direction. Solitude, too. I find that the caves and the sacred lands bring me closer to nature and therefore closer to the Gods. Come, I will show you.’
He beckons for me to cross the bridge he made last night, but I’m beaten to it by Fen, who leaps forward, rushing across to the other side before I’ve even placed my first foot upon the ice.
That’s one way of doing it. I smile.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fen replies. The ice looked like it would be cold on my feet. That’s the only reason I rushed.
Right. The ice looked cold. But not the snow you’ve been walking on for the entire day.
His disgruntled huff rattles through me, and I can’t help but laugh.
‘So before your family was stripped of their magic, I assume you lived in the court of Wrohelm,’ Magnus says as we begin walking to the caves. ‘Is that where you met the prince?’
‘The prince?’ The remark takes me by such surprise that I jolt slightly. ‘No, no, I did not meet him then.’
Of course, that’s not technically true. There was that one time – the worst night of my life – when I spent hours with him as a child.
Hours watching his mother suffer in childbirth.
Watching my mother doing everything in her power to save her, only to fail.
Watching Kyor’s hurt burn so deeply with pain that he lashed out the only way he could think to – by blaming and condemning my mother in the same breath.
But that’s not something I’m going to share with Magnus. Kyor doesn’t need to be judged for his past actions when he’s actively trying to make amends for them.
‘No, I met Kyor in the Retterheld.’
Magnus turns sharply to look at me. ‘You were in the Retterheld? Without magic? And you survived?’
Pride unfurls within me as I allow a slight smile.
‘Actually, I won it.’ The king’s eyes widen further still.
‘I just wanted to get back what had been taken from us,’ I continue.
‘Kay and I were living in the slums at the time. Both our parents had been claimed by Mortidem, and we were barely surviving.’
‘It must have been difficult for you and your sister,’ Magnus says, turning back to continue walking. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help. Your father… You said he was stripped of his magic too?’
‘Yes. He took it hard,’ I say. ‘He passed away a little after Mother did.’
‘So you were alone – the eldest with all the responsibility and without magic. That is a great pressure upon one so young. I am sorry, Rose. Sorry that I did not know of your trials. That I could not help you.’
‘It wasn’t easy,’ I admit, seeing no point in lying. ‘The slums are a hard place, but I had people who helped us, such as Ruben and other neighbours and friends.’
One of us.
My mind is drawn to the last time I saw our former neighbour, Corem, on the way out of Wrohelm.
We gave him food to hand out to the people there – something I should have tried to do more of while I was in the High Hold.
But his late wife, Evelina… Well, I last saw her in the great cavern as one of the pillars of Rotting, her skin mottled green.
I instantly feel nauseous as I’m once again reminded of the vision from this morning.
The Rottings dragging their feet as they moved through the tunnel…
A tunnel.
And I am about to willingly walk into some unknown caves. A fissure of fear threatens to tear through me, but a sound catches my attention and stops the downward spiral before it can begin.
The music, it’s there again.
I’m not sure that the melody is the same, but the instrument definitely is.
That light, tinkling quality and the crisp, pure tones it produces are the same as what I heard the night before when I walked to the Veil, not knowing if I was going to survive it.
Now I’m heading back, hands marked, an Issen princess.
I reassure myself that there was no music in my vision.
As we continue across the snow, I consider asking Magnus about the friction between his people, but I have more pressing questions. Ones only he can answer. Mostly about my mother. My grandmother.
I know from our conversation yesterday that he doesn’t understand how my mother ended up in Wrohelm, but he must know why she left Isthyr? I wonder whether she left with my grandmother. And if so, was it by choice? But before I can begin to work out how to press further, he speaks again.