Page 122 of The Ashborn

Danek shook his head and grabbed her hand. “I wasn’t asking.”

Kienna wasn’t sure if it was the way he demanded he go or the surety in his step when he said it that made her heart leap, but she caught herself looking at him with flushed cheeks, thinking about the time they almost kissed. Her attention shifted to the magical sigil above his brow, blue highlighting through his dark curls as a reminder of what he sacrificed in Dove Port.

She lowered her guard, allowing Danek to walk down the winding bridges. They weaved in between islands all the way to the Heart of Trinity. Kienna grew to hate this tree. It reminded her of being in Vaerin’s castle, memories flooding back of the time she was cast in front of her peers and put on display. She stood filthy, weak, and alone back then.

Standing in front of the Trinity Council felt no different than River Storm, though she was fully clothed and bathed. Her soul’s battle armor, though, ripped when she stood in front of their prying eyes. Kienna wanted to tell Connak this when he requested her to come. She put on a brave face instead.

The council sat against the wall, under the tree’s graceful vines. Their chairs were embellished with leaves and berries growing from within. Kienna kept her eyes on the berries, thinking how peculiar it was for them to be growing inside on the stump of a seat. Perhaps anything could grow with the right amount of nature and magic.

Queen Elira sat silently in the center, eyes focused on what was beyond Kienna, never truly meeting her gaze. The queen wore a subtle gown, flowing beyond her feet. Colored with silver thread, the fabric hugged thickly around her, as if she were preparing for colder weather. Her hair was wisped in braids, carefully woven with vines of green and brown. Twigs poked out around her head like a crown as she reigned over the forest dwellers. Kienna tried to steady herself in Elira’s presence.

Seredai and Alister sat near her while the remaining council seats were bare. A peculiar sight it was to see the council never full during these briefing sessions. Kienna wondered if this served as a council at all, or if it was Elira’s reign with her trusted advisors. She noticed that Alister was the only human serving most of the time, while the other realms did not grace their presence.

Tristian and Connak stood on opposite corners of the room from each other, arms behind their back in proper formation. Tristian’s eyes hung low, circles as dark as ink underneath. He appeared as if he hadn’t slept in days, though Kienna could tell he spent time fixing his hair and armor before appearing at the council’s briefing.

Kienna pushed her mind toward Connak’s without warning, the contact sharp as lightning. The resistance was immediate, like striking a closed door she hadn’t expected to be locked. Usually, she would call for him and wait for the bridge to open. This time, she felt the ward instead, a tightly coiled pressure shoving back against her presence.

She lingered at his barrier, pulse skittering, following the familiar pull beneath the resistance, though Connak’s face indicated he was fighting it. Then, the ward flexed, reacting to her touch, and she pressed again. Not forcing, just insisting.

The pressure eased enough for her to slip through.

Though I’m impressed that you figured out how to get inside my mind against my wards, you should be paying attention before Elira takes your head off, Connak said.

Kienna stowed the idea of wards away for later. One question, she started.

His calming, green eyes fell on her.

How often do humans come to Trinity?

Connak nodded his head backwards, taken aback by her sudden question. He furrowed his brow and turned his head to her, a motion that Tristian nearly jumped across the room to correct. Connak quickly fell back into formation and said, May I ask why?

Not at the moment. I’m simply curious.

You’re looking for fire with that question. Don’t ask unless you’re prepared to do something about it.

Kienna marched toward the queen, halting at the edge of the water. Ripples trickled from the stream. It pulsed rhythmically, hues of gold and red swimming through the pool. The council did not speak. Only the sound of water tapping against the ground echoed.

Why is it only Alister? Kienna scanned the council in front of her.

Your parents didn’t succeed in their fight for unity. Surely, you’ve figured that out. Connak’s voice in her mind echoed like a whisper, as if he were afraid of who might hear.

Why does she pretend that they did? Is Elira… Kienna’s thoughts shot through her mind like shooting stars. She tried to hide them from Connak, but the puzzle connected in every direction, and she knew why she hated being in Trinity as much as she did. The Elvish rulers are no better than King Vaerin, are they?

Danek gently nudged Kienna, placing his hand on her arm to reorient her mind. She glanced at him from the side, a welcome heat pulsing through her body, through the warmth of his skin on hers. Her mind drifted from Connak’s until his barrier sealed, leaving her on the outside.

“I am usually more prepared for these briefings,” Elira started, digging her hands into the sides of her chair. Branches veined into the floor. “Every time I try to prepare something to say, my blood boils.”

Kienna stared, fists gripping at the dark charcoal cloak draped over her shoulders, clasped at the throat with a Hollow Blades insignia. She meant it to be an apology, but now she felt utterly ridiculous sporting any insignia of the Elvish. She dug her scuffed leather boots into the ground, waiting for Elira to continue. Silence deafened the drums of her ears.

“Perhaps,” Seredai’s voice sliced through the cold, heavy quiet, “we could start by trying to understand⁠—”

Elira scoffed and stood. “A pointless war started by ignorant children.”

Kienna nodded. “I’ll admit⁠—

“And what do you have to say for the deaths of all our soldiers? Of the highborn blood of Tislin Asrael?”

Tristian squirmed in the back, as if begging to find air in a room that suddenly thrust him underwater. Kienna ached, a tug pulling her chest toward him. She would have never understood it until now. She only wished she could take the pain from him. From Connak. From Moira, still in Dove Port, mourning on her own.