Chapter 22 #4
Pride shines on Kyor’s face when I inevitably look at him – and yes, Stefan is right, I do – and he gives me a smile and a thumbs-up while absentmindedly rubbing Elska’s belly. I fight back a grin as love for him pours out of me. No matter what’s happening, his eyes are always fixed on me.
Stefan ignores our interaction. ‘Interesting.’ All hints of harshness are gone from his voice, and I wonder if it’s because he’s starting to see that I’m not utterly hopeless.
But then my trainer inches towards me, lowering his voice so his words won’t reach Kyor.
‘You know, maybe you’re not quite the puppet pacifist that the others say you are.
Maybe there’s more to you than that, Rose Kultavaris.
I have seen the fire within you, and you might be exactly what this kingdom needs.
You could unite our people, keeping the monarchy lovers happy while also helping us take the land we want down south.
You and I together could be a very powerful union. ’
My throat dries at the implication of his words.
Godsdamn it! Kyor was right. Not about everything – not about murder plots or accidents on lonely mountainsides – but certainly about this.
Stefan’s interest in me has never been entirely professional, and I find myself wondering whether I ever truly needed to touch his abs for the breathwork.
Arsehole.
‘You are so out of line right now.’ I hiss my words through clenched teeth, sliding a glance to Kyor. If he knew what Stefan had just said, he’d throw a bolt through him quicker than you can say ‘rebel leader’.
‘Am I out of line?’ he asks. His voice is so low, so quiet, I can barely hear it above the rush of blood in my ears, not to mention the howling of the snow that continues to encircle us.
‘There’s no future for you and Kyor. None.
Just as there is no future for your grandfather’s meek mindset.
But for us…’ The word catches on the air.
His eyes are glinting. ‘For us, Rose, there could be a very powerful future indeed.’
‘I’m telling you no. There will never be an us. And as much as you might hate hearing that, you can’t hurt me.’ I say the words as much for myself as for his benefit. ‘You so much as touch me and you will be stripped of your powers and never again allowed near the throne.’
‘Oh darling, the way I want to touch you has nothing to do with hurting you.’ A supercilious smile turns up his lips, and he winks. ‘Unless that’s what you ask for.’
Bastard! Flirting with me, right in front of Kyor.
Telling me I can’t be with the love of my life.
Anger rises, and I lose control of my little snowflakes as the urge to stab him sweeps over me.
Fuck him if he thinks Kyor is the only one who can destroy him.
I can kill him a million ways before breakfast. One tiny nick of Dinah’s blade and I’m certain he’d bleed out.
A rush of cold cascades down my hands, narrow and piercing and unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. An unexpected weight pulls on my gloved hands, and when I look down, there is a sword held fast in each hand. I take a fighting stance, wanting him to finally see me as a threat.
‘Well look at that. Finally a decent sword.’ Stefan smirks with satisfaction. ‘Told you I teach well. I do lots of things well.’
His comment gives me pause. Was all that nonsense nothing more than a ploy to enrage me and make my magic surge?
Before I can question him on it, a blast of lightning fires from the air, landing only inches from my feet, and when I spin around, I see Kyor striding towards us, green-grey clouds luminous above him.
‘She’s ready to run you through. What did you do? What did you say?’ he growls.
‘Me?’ Stefan lifts his hands, proclaiming his innocence. ‘Why, just a little something to provoke a response. And look at these fine swords she made as a result.’
‘Fuck you.’ Kyor lifts his hand, curled into a fist, but I leap in front of him, dropping my swords.
‘Kyor, it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just bullshit. He’s trying to rile me.’ I offer a rueful smile. ‘Successfully, it seems.’
‘I know men like him.’
‘I suspect you do,’ Stefan sneers. ‘There are plenty of us, and I’m sure some are right beneath your nose.’
Kyor’s brow pinches at Stefan’s obfuscation, but it’s all the distraction I need to lower his fist back down to his side.
‘We’re done here for today,’ I say, my eyes locked on Stefan. ‘Kyor and I will ride our wolves back to Isthyr.’
‘You require a chaperone,’ Stefan replies stuffily. ‘I need to come with you.’
‘I’m the princess here. I’ll decide when I need a chaperone.
’ I leave the swords to melt into the snow and swing onto Fen’s back.
The pulse beneath my ribs continues to beat its restless rhythm, refusing to be ignored, and I replay Stefan’s words with gritted teeth and try to consider them calmly. Were they a ploy or a proposal?
If a clear mind is what I’m going to need to face the final stage of the Veil, then I’m screwed.