He paused, staring at the floor. I had an urge to take one of his hands and rub the back until his fingers unclenched.
“But then Goran screamed,” he continued softly, “and the sound tore at me. He never had a very strong gift, and consequently, he had a weak resistance to heat. Enough fire to gain entry to school, yes, but it was obvious after a couple of years that he wasn’t progressing. But without the designation of master, he couldn’t claim his title or the rule of his parents’ island. I think in retrospect his disappointment led him to his… other activities.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it was obvious to me that it did.
“So Goran didn’t defend himself?” I asked.
“Well… he was chained.”
I swallowed my disgust, though it was directed at the queen far more than at Kai. “Go on.”
“I attacked him again. Again, he screamed. And then”—he inhaled sharply through his nose—“he started to beg. He told me his mother was ill—I don’t know if it was true. But Marta had been kind to me after my own mother died. Goran said she depended on him and that’s why he’d turned to thieving. He babbled on, rehashing memories of our childhood together: the time we’d stolen a fishing boat and been caught in a storm when we were twelve.” His lips curved gently. “The boom had swung and knocked me out cold. Only Goran’s proficiency with boats had saved us. He took me home before anyone knew I was gone, so I was fine. Yet he had taken a beating when he’d arrived home later. His father was not an understanding man. I’d made it home free and he’d…” He sucked in a breath. “Well, it worked. Every word stabbed at my heart. He’d been my close friend once and I couldn’t hurt him any more. I just couldn’t. I decided then that I didn’t care about the test. Not enough to kill my old friend.”
“So that’s why you failed?”
“That’s why, yes.” He turned to me and I sensed his need for understanding, the need to tell this story. It was unusual for Kai to be serious, to show vulnerability. He might be comfortable with many emotions, but he’d never shown the softer part of himself, his secret shame, as he’d called it. It was a gift I didn’t treat lightly.
He went on. “The queen warned me then that there are consequences to disobeying her command. She advised me to rethink my obstinacy and carry out her order. I refused. Three times she asked me to reconsider and I refused.”
He lifted his empty goblet and splashed more wine into it. I didn’t stop him this time.
“You see, I come from an old family, generations of Fireblood masters who ruled the same group of islands. We’ve been unwavering supporters of the Sudesian monarchy. There was no doubt that I would pass the trials, especially the test of obedience. When I passed my second trial, my father held a celebration that night, all our neighbors and nobles from the surrounding isles in attendance, including several princesses he would have been pleased to see me court. He was so convinced of my success; he gave me his ring that night.” He held up his hand, displaying the ruby ring he’d lent me as proof of his Sudesian ancestry. “The ring worn by all Sudesian princes or princesses, even though I wouldn’t actually rule until he was no longer able.” He gave a choking laugh, his smile at odds with his shadowed eyes. “I had tears in my eyes as he put it on me, a symbol of my ancestry, my worthiness to continue his line. I lived to please him, to make him proud. And finally, I had done it.”
He was quiet for a minute. The silence was complete. The castle slept peacefully, only a rising wind rattling the casements.
“What was the consequence the queen warned you about?” I prompted softly.
He blew out a breath and lounged back on his elbows, but his jaw was tense.
“I could have borne a lashing or a beating without complaint. But it wasn’t me who paid the price. The queen took control of my family’s island and gave it to one of the other masters, a prince’s daughter from a tiny, outlying island who had just passed her trials. Her family had built ships for the queen.”
“So… your father no longer rules.”
“He and my sister and her daughter live on our home island, but in a small house far from the estate where I grew up. The clay on their land is so dense and rocky it yields barely enough wheat to last one season. I send them coin, but my father is proud and won’t accept anything from me. So I have to give the money to my sister, who tells Father that her work as a tutor pays much better than it really does. I’ve offered her a place on my ship, but she won’t leave him. His health has declined. No doubt that’s my fault, too.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything.” I wished I could smooth the tight crease between his brows.
“I don’t. I only blame myself for the things I’m responsible for, and that’s plenty.”
“So that’s why you sail your merchant ship and occasionally indulge in a bit of piracy? To send money to your family?”
“Also because it’s fun.” He grinned at me, the same disarmingly roguish smile that had grown so familiar. “But I’ve been hoping to find a way to restore my family’s name. And then, when I heard about you, I thought I’d found it. A nice fat offering”—I smacked his shoulder and he grinned—“in exchange for my second chance.”
“She didn’t want me as an offering. She thought I would fail. You said so yourself.”
“Well, you’ve proven her wrong.” He clinked his goblet to my cup of water and drank.
“So everything has unfolded according to your grand plan. Now, you just have to pass your third trial.”
“Yes. I ‘just’ have to pass. And for that, you ‘just’ have to pass.” The irony was clear. It wouldn’t be “just” anything. He stared into his empty goblet. “But what horror will she unleash on you tomorrow, hmm? What atrocity will she demand of me? That’s the part I didn’t let myself think of when I came up with this brilliant plan.”
“Is your test after mine, then? Assuming I pass?”
“I would guess so.”
I pulled my knees up and rested my chin on them. I didn’t know anyone in Sudesia, so there was no danger that the queen would make me hurt someone I cared about. But still. “I don’t want to pass if it means killing someone. I’ve had to kill before and I made a vow to seek the light… .” I waved a hand. “Maybe that sounds fanciful—”
“It doesn’t.” He adjusted his body so that he was sitting sideways on one bent leg, his arm braced behind me as he leaned closer. “I could have closed my eyes to Goran’s suffering and killed him. Afterward, sometimes I wished I had. When my family had to leave their lives, their identities, behind and move into a dilapidated hovel with a leaking roof, then I wished I’d been stronger.”
“Cruelty isn’t strength.” As I said the words, I was reminded that Arcus had once said something similar after I’d run away and he’d found me in a blizzard. He’d said, “Tyranny is not strength.” At the time, it had surprised me, the idea that the mysterious, ill-mannered Frostblood held an opinion in harmony with mine. The memory gave me a twist of homesickness.
I waited for Kai to agree, but he seemed occupied with letting his eyes rove over me. Warmth slowly spread across my skin and I was glad my heightened color wouldn’t be visible in the dim light. It was confusing that I could think of Arcus in one moment and feel warmth for Kai the next. Arcus lived in my heart, but I didn’t know when I’d see him again, or if there was any future for us. He had told me we had to let each other go a little, and I had tried to do that. Kai was here, and he was warm and charming and alluring, drawing me into his current. I looked at the floor, trying to sort through the confusing tangle of thoughts and feelings.