“What?” Roland asked.
I released Kellian’s hand. “Like I said, I’ll need a full report on this new dark magic.” Remembering Minnow’s memories with the mysterious green lightning, my frantic mind jumped from one thought to the next. If I had been there, would I have been able to administer a Kiss to Kellian that could’ve defeated this curse? Minnow was not his partner, she didn’t bear his mark like I did, and therefore could not give him counter-curse Kisses—only simple ones like battle magic Kisses or healing Kisses. Was that it, then? Was I just too late, or was this curse simply too powerful even for the great Myriana’s magic? The thought made my gut twist.
“And you’ll get that report,” Minnow said, reaching for my hands with her usual gentleness, “but not until after you rest.”
I almost didn’t let her touch me, didn’t want anyone to try to console me when I needed no consolation—only an explanation.
But seeing my battle-weary and exhausted comrades, I knew now was not the time. Here they were, worrying about me, when they were the ones who needed sleep.
So I let Minnow take my arm. The image of Kellian’s body shaking with green lightning played over and over in my head as we trailed behind the patrol into the Hall of Ancestors. The sound of everyone’s reverberating footsteps and muted chatter snapped me out of my trance.
“I think I’d rather stay outside. I’ve been in the infirmary too long,” I said, forcing strength into my voice. Even though my legs were still sore and stiff, I needed time alone. To stop the influx of poisonous thoughts already seeping into my subconscious—I’m a failure, I lost another partner because I’m too weak, I can’t uphold the bloodline of Myriana. These thoughts always came to me in the same voice, one that had haunted me since childhood.
I pushed them away and gave Minnow’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad you made it back safely.”
Minnow still watched me with concern, her sky-blue eyes shiny with unshed tears.
I couldn’t let her think Kellian’s state was her fault. That was my burden to bear. “You did your best. Thank you for looking after him.”
She blinked away the tears. “Ivy…”
“It’s you who need rest.” I nodded to the other Royals heading for their rooms. “You look like you’re about to collapse. Brief me on what you were able to discover on patrol after you’ve slept.”
Minnow gave me a quick hug then shuffled away, her footsteps echoing in the massive hall.
I stared at the lofty ceiling for a moment, seeking refuge from my thoughts. The marble arches of the Hall of Ancestors expanded and met in the middle, like two sides of a rainbow joining in perfect unison. It calmed me to admire the detailed, pearly-white marble statuaries of princes and princesses battling dragons and griffins, of mages dueling witches and warlocks. It was said the stories of all the past Royals were represented here.
Would my stories end up here, too, someday?
The feeling of serenity didn’t last. Soon those faceless sculptures taunted me. “Failure. Useless. Your service in the Legion is over. The war against the Forces of Darkness will carry on without you.”
I had to get out.
I hurried through the Hall then stopped at the steps leading down to the gates. The wall towered over the Crown City of Myria, surrounding the town below with its cobbled walkways and the homes of our subjects.
Their lives were laid out before me. Lives I’d taken an oath to protect.
With that weight on my shoulders, I descended the steps as fast as my sore legs would allow. Slipped through the gaps in the blossoming apple trees, their white petals fluttering in the wind, carrying the scent that always reminded me of apple spiced-honey cakes, I headed for the training grounds. After a week of dormancy, my muscles yearned to work. And my soul ached to prove I wasn’t totally worthless.
My heart bled for Kellian. The image of him on the cart, his face left with traces of blood and grime, would follow me forever. Until my own legionnaire cloak covered my lifeless body. He’d been so strong and brave, and good. In many ways, I felt like it should’ve been me on that cart instead of him. He’d trusted me to protect him. To save him. But I failed him instead.
And now I was without a partner. Again. Without a prince, I was doomed to spend my days on the training grounds or in my quarters, studying spells for my Kisses but never getting a chance to use them. I prayed it wouldn’t happen, that the Royal Council would find me another prince, so I could continue fighting on the battlefields. Where I belong.
I paused in front of a low fence built of brucel wood and copper nails and gingerly stepped over it, using a nearby jerr tree to steady myself. Finally coming upon the fringes of the training grounds, I could just make out the young recruits of princes and princesses sparring. A second group was running laps, and a third was at the archery targets. A breeze rolled over the grounds, rustling the grass like rippling emerald waves.
My legs already ached from my short journey. I tried to hide my limp as I made my way to the sparring group. Boys fought boys, while the girls practiced defensive moves using shields. As usual. Later, princesses would be taken aside to practice a long-range weapon of their choosing, like longbows, crossbows, or throwing knives. Because only princesses had the ability to cast spells after the Kiss, we were each assigned a prince who was able to receive the spell and fight with magically enhanced strength. According to priests, a female Royal’s power for spell-casting derived from Queen Myriana, since it was her Kiss that had saved King Raed. Therefore, we had to be well protected and prepared by learning spells, defensive moves, and long-range weapons instead of close combat.
Still, there were princesses who practiced swordsmanship relentlessly, simply because they didn’t like staying within a protective Illye circle, away from the heat and thrill of battle. Princesses like me.
I wanted to fight alongside my partner, sharing the sweat and fear of a troll wielding a blood-spattered mace. Though I understood it was to keep me safe, it was frustrating staying behind an Illye circle while my partners were out there risking everything.
I headed over to the girls, taking a shield from one I’d taught healing Kisses to only last month. I couldn’t recall her name, but I remembered her thin face and black-as-night hair. I flipped the shield to be flat against my forearm, running my fingers over the sharp metal edge. “Hold it like this. Remember, your shield can be a weapon, too. Use the edge to inflect any damage you can. The minute you stop fighting is the minute you admit you’re ready to die.”
The girl nodded, taking her shield back as I handed it to her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her neck and cheeks were slick with sweat, but her scowl was most prominent. She was determined to learn more than just how to hide behind wood and metal. I saw my younger self in her. After watching my first partner fall with an ax in his neck, I’d sworn I wouldn’t simply cower behind a shield, magical or wooden, when I could’ve been there with him.
Like I could’ve been there with Kellian.
I turned away from the girls, toward the boys practicing with their wooden swords. When the nearest prince stumbled after a particularly vicious attack by his partner, I took him by the shoulder, steadying him. He glanced up, his eyes going wide with surprise.
“May I cut in?” I asked.
He blinked then dropped the sword into my outstretched hand.
His sparring partner swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing under his collar. “Princess Ivy?”
“The very same.” Slashing the weapon through the air for a practice cut, I stepped in front of the boy whose sword I’d taken. “I’m your new opponent.”