CHAPTER 1 #2
He didn’t answer straight away, but busied himself lighting candles against the fading light. Their flames illuminated her father’s lined face, his cropped, greying dark hair. He looked older than she had ever seen him.
At last, he said, “Your duty is more important than what you want. Henry will treat you well. He is Lord Galen’s son. Trustworthy. Respectful. That is enough.”
She stared at him, and saw the truth of it. How simple it was to her father. He actually thought he was being kind to her.
“And what of Soulbonding?” she blurted. “Love has to be real for that.”
He whipped his head towards her. “Only lovesick fools choose to Soulbond,” he snapped. “Those who believe the ridiculous ballads. They end in ruin. Since the War, they’re rarer than emberstone. Most people have more sense than to–”
“I would like the chance to decide for myself.”
Anger flashed over her father’s face. “People speak of Soulbonding as if it’s romantic.
It is not. You don’t share your life – you surrender it.
And if they die... you spend the rest of your days with half a soul, ruined.
A wound no healer can reach.” He hesitated a moment before saying, “You don’t survive it. ”
Kara stood. “How exactly would you know?”
Something raw crossed her father’s face, and his fists clenched at his sides. Without warning, Alaric crossed the room and seized Kara’s arms, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. She gasped, tried to pull away. His grip tightened like Durent iron.
“Foolish girl. I have seen what it does to a person,” he hissed, shaking her, his face inches from hers. “I won’t lose you the way I lost–”
He cut himself off mid-sentence, looking stricken – clearly wishing he could swallow the words down.
Who? Who did he lose?
She didn’t dare ask, not when he looked like that. Through her Lyran magic she felt his rage, burning red-hot and wild. There was an undercurrent of fear too, and something older, something buried – grief.
She had pushed too far.
“I will not hear you speak another word on the matter.” His voice dropped, colder now but edged with something like desperation.
“No daughter of mine would make herself so vulnerable.” He spat the last word as he released her, so suddenly that she stumbled back, her breathing shallow and her arms throbbing.
He’d been stern before. That was his way. Cold. Controlling. But never this. Never violent. Her father looked away, his hands shaking, shame shadowing his face. Silence fell. Her hand went to the bruises blooming on her arms, emerald flaring instinctively, to heal. But she stopped herself.
No, let him see what he did.
After a long moment, Alaric spoke, his voice steady and composed, as though nothing had happened. “You’ve always done what was asked of you. I know you’ll do it again.”
It wasn’t an apology. Of course it wasn’t. Alaric Hale didn’t apologise.
To her dismay, tears threatened to fall, but her father pretended he didn’t see. He simply turned to the window.
“You will also represent Hale at the Arcalon next week,” he said, still not looking at her.
The Arcalon – Vallenna’s grand tournament – the most important event of the year. Seven of the eight Houses formed teams, competing together in trials that demanded every magical gift.
Kara blanched. “Again?”
Her father turned to face her. “Yes. You’ve been named fourth delegate. Your cousin Alys and two from families under our stewardship will complete Hale’s offering.”
Kara’s brow furrowed. “I thought first-time delegates were favoured–”
“This year, Hale favour visibility and strength,” Alaric said.
“Why?”
Alaric considered her before answering. “You are one of our strongest, Karalynna.”
She stared at him, waiting. Yes, they sent those who would represent their House well, but there was more to it. She could see it on his face.
Her father sighed. “Henry is competing this year as a Caldris delegate. Galen thought it would be a good show of unity,” he explained. “And I agree,” he added, before she could argue.
Unity. There that word was again. At least if she had the Arcalon to prepare for, she could spend time practising healing spells rather than studying.
She nodded silently. What else was there left to say?
“And Karalynna...” he called, as she turned to go. “Do not underestimate the value of what you represent – to Hale, to Vallenna. Don’t let me down.”
She stared at the floor as she muttered, “Yes, Father.”
She left the room with her heart in her mouth. The Ball. An engagement she didn’t choose. And now the Arcalon, pretending with Henry in front of all of Vallenna, with barely any time to prepare.
Gods be good, she didn’t want this.
But she walked with her head held high, her expression calm, until her mother caught up with her. Eliyana watched her carefully.
“These matches are rarely what we dream of, Kara,” she said softly. “But they can bring respect. Even love, in time.”
Kara all but heard the words her mother didn’t speak: I should know, mine was the same.
“At least you’ll remain here, in Hale territory,” Eliyana said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it lightly.
Her mother’s words were meant to bring her comfort, but hidden beneath them was a wave of sadness – Eliyana didn’t believe her own reassurance.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak, so they walked in silence until they reached her chambers.
When Kara was finally alone, she let the tears fall, furious, helpless, and silent.
They didn’t stop for a long time.