Page 47 of Where We Belong

“Kaed,” Nyk warns, but even Ardyn emits a low grumble.

The creature laughs. “You’re too easy, Captain. And I haven’t even started on you yet.”

I shove the memory of Nyk’s bleeding body aside and summon the crimson manacles from my bag imbued with Tobian’s toxic blood. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Barkus,” I say,

Its smile widens. “I’ve always liked it hard. I know you do too. When you were on your knees and the Princess was naked before you—”

Smoke gathers in my heated hands and shoots towards it, but it’s intercepted when a creature bursts free in a spray of molten rock. Nyk swears at the swirling black mass soaring into the air. The Spoof. It twists and turns, deciding what it wants to be. Deciding how best to kill us. It chooses a birdlike creature made of skin, bones, and a beak as sharp as the sword at my back. I remove it from its sheath seconds before the thing dives. I swing back and aim upwards into its chin, channelling smoke into the blade. It screeches and recoils into black, rolling like a thundering storm cloud to rest on a nearby rock. Behind us, the Barkus laughs. “You almost look competent. Are you competent, Kaed? You don’t think you are after you couldn’t get the Princess free. Failing, failing, failure.”

It thrashes and screams as Nyk waves a hand, sending the manacles to clamp around its skinny wrists. A vibrant lasso of teal flames shoots from his fingertips, dragging Barkus towards us. The roiling darkness of The Spoof splits into two before both halves morph into something dragon like. It switches between a few more combinations, then decides on two colossal onyx scorpions. We need to get the hell out of here. Just like every other beast here, it cannot be killed; it’ll just wear us down and consume us. We need to get behind the prison wards. Nyk and I exchange a glance; he’s thinking the same. I nod. He kicks his heel and Ardyn soars into the sky, dragging a wailing Barkus with him. One scorpion sprouts wings and takes after him, while the other clicks its tail and tilts its head toward me. A smile tugs at my lips, ready for the chase.

Black smoke cocoons around me before I burst out of it, using it as a launching pad. The Spoof is on me instantly. Claws, no, hooves strike the cliff face. Then it breaks apart mid-gallop, dissolving into shadow before reforming into wings. It swipes at me with a paw, and I flip in the air, leaving a decoy of Kaed shaped smoke for it to chase. Nyk breaks through the wards first, Ardyn twisting in the air. I follow a breath later. The creatures merge and skid to a halt just before the wards, hissing and barking. Nyk wipes sweat from his brow and laughs. I can’t help but join in, throwing a glance to Barkus, whose mouth has been clamped shut with a string of fire.

Chapter 45

Ashley

Now in my delight, I was certain and sure,

that I just might be ready for home,

Servants bustle through the hallways, arms overflowing with decorations and trays of Cook’s food — pastries, meats, fruits, and sparkling pink drinks that make my pulse spike. It seems someone, Kaed or my uncle, I suspect, has instructed all the help not to let me have one, so they desperately avoid eye contact and do U-turns whenever they see me. My cousin and his entourage are getting settled in various areas of the palace. I tried to take a sneak peek, even though I’ve been advised not to but they’ve all brought their own soldiers, so getting through is near impossible. Especially since I can’t throw my title around. I’ve never had family outside of my parents. My mum was an only child, her parents gone before I was born. My dad spun the same kind of story that I now know to be a lie. So, the idea of meeting family, actual people who share my blood, feels strange.

Eira warned me not to get my hopes up. “They’re not exactly a joy to be around,” she’d said flatly as I sat between her and Cook in the mess hall one evening, eating a sandwich that tasted like it had been made by god. Aiden had joined us for a little while, and it wasn’t awful, even though he still called me Agni.

Everyone is on edge; no one knows how I’ll be received or if I’ll be safe. Guards patrol nonstop. It’s like they’re doubling in number. The King has reluctantly decided to move Theron to the cells next to the barracks to await execution. I could hear the brokenness in his voice. He doesn’t want to be a cruel ruler, but Theron isn’t responding to reason or rehabilitation, and he can’t risk him hurting anyone else or escaping during such an important event. And even though they are certain they’ve fished out the last of the traitors from the palace, they don’t want to take risks. I can’t go anywhere without an escort, and my uncle has taken it upon himself to personally deliver every meal to my room. Each time, he quizzes me.

“Do you feel well? Have you noticed anything strange?” I’m getting tired of saying ‘No, uncle. I’m fine, thank you, uncle,” though something like love warms my stomach when he fusses. I could get used to it.

Meanwhile, Thea and Fawn, thrilled by my newfound commitment to hygiene, have decided to treat me like a life-sized doll. They bring me armfuls of dresses, tops, and skirts that fit like a dream, along with beautiful sandals and a full wardrobe of training gear. The first time I wore one of the outfits I almost felt like myself again. The old Ashley. Who turned heads and turned away hearts. Nyk let out a dramatic whistle, and the look in Kaed’s eyes made my stomach flutter. He studied me like he had an exam coming up, and I was the subject. Knee-high dragonhide boots and a skirt made of weighted chains that clinked softly as I walked, brushing the tops of my thighs. A strapless armored corset hugged my waist and lifted my chest in a way that made me feel rather devilish. When no one is watching, Kaed shows me how to use the black smoke that has started bursting from my palms. When he kissed me, I got some of his magic and vice versa apparently. It tickles. Somehow, I’m better at using that than my own magic, which seems to go everywhere apart from where I want it. But I’ll get there. It’s true what they say, strength begins in the mind. And now, I believe it. After everything I’ve already endured, I’ll be damned if I let a little cult ritual be the thing that takes me out. Speaking of which, Nyk asked me earlier in the week whether I was going to go to Cinder Cliffs. I said I’m not sure. Because the more I think about it, I’m pissed off they’re demanding my presence. I’ve been trying to find the right time to speak to my uncle about it during the time I’ve been spending with him. But I haven’t wanted to ruin it with politics. We’ve taken carriage rides through the city, walks around the parks and he’s shown me every inch of the palace, the beautiful grounds, and gardens that stretch for miles. He showed me how to pot some plants and spoke about all his flowers, the baby Cardania’s are his favourite. Mine too, I think.

Which brings us to today. Thea and Fawn had insisted on scrubbing, plucking, and waxing me within an inch of my life, refusing to listen when I said I could oil my own skin. They brought in a plethora of gowns and heels for me to try, squealing and clapping at each one. “No, this, this is the one,” they’d cry every single time, sending us into fits of laughter. The one we chose is breathtaking. A bold green, the exact shade of my eyes. It’s silky and the neckline is shaped from soft leaf-like patterns curling around the fitted bodice, cupping my chest and leaving little to the imagination. Fawn laces me in, and the skirt spills from my hips like a waterfall, pooling around my feet. A high slit runs up one side, flashing my thigh with every step. Thea pins my hair up. Soft curls frame my face, and they place a stunning tiara on top of my head. When they step back to admire their work, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and almost have to fight tears. I look like a Princess. But more than that, the healthiest version of me I think I’ve ever been. The gaunt lines of my face have filled in, my ribs no longer visible.

“Thank you,” I say, overwhelmed, wanting to say more, but they quickly shush me, brushing off my gratitude with grins and ushering me out of the room. Aiden is waiting in the hallway to escort me to the courtyard. His green outfit complements mine perfectly. A tailored waistcoat with a high collar embroidered in gold. Draped over one shoulder is a long cape fastened with a clasp shaped like the monster from the royal crest. The crown he never takes off mirrors mine. I suddenly realise I’ve never seen him with any partners. You’d think, being a handsome royal, people would be throwing themselves at him. Even just for a night. Yes, he’s a prick, but since when has that ever stopped anyone? We all know he has a thing for Eira, but even the great, stoic Aiden must need to bang one out occasionally. He offers his arm. “Ready?” I nod and take it.

“Does your smile ever reach your eyes, Aiden?” I ask.

“No.”

Chapter 46

Ashley

but I was eager, a little too keen,

revealing more flaws of my own.

Heads turn as we tread down the flower filled aisle to our seats. Aiden wears a perfect smile. I try to copy, not trip, and ignore the stares. Kaed is next to the platform with Tobian, speaking quietly with a male dressed in black and white robes, probably the officiant. The Captains’ caramel eyes are drawn straight to me, and he can’t help but do a very obvious double-take. His gaze drags down the front of my dress so slowly it feels almost like being touched. Tobian is trying to get his attention, patting his shoulder. Kaed turns his head but can’t remove his stare from my body, tongue resting on his bottom lip, the tips of his canines peeking out. I ignore the little fire in my abdomen and give him a smug wink.

We take our seats facing a beautiful, carved archway, and the soft murmurs give way to silence. Kaed shoots me a glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows with the rest of the Volker on patrol. When it’s time for the bride’s entrance, we stand. She appears at the top of the aisle, radiant and giddy, hand in hand with her parents. A group of musicians I recognise from the city plays a symphony so beautiful my pulse races. The strings grip something in my heart and as the melody swells, tears flood my eyes. It’s a foreign feeling and I’m caught off guard, to cry for something other than pain, something that brings me joy. The sting under my eyes is familiar, but the ache in my chest is soft. When the bride reaches the front, I clap, a little too enthusiastically, earning a breathy chuckle from Aiden. The groom enters next, my cousin. I search his face for any resemblance to myself, to Aiden. None. But my uncle’s features are etched in his proud jawline and sharp eyes. Bride and groom face each other under the archway and the officiant begins.

“Do you have to do that one day?” I whisper to Aiden.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I vowed not to.”