Sixteen

260 23 0
                                    

Ansley thrusts her small sword forward and Rowan blocks her jab

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Ansley thrusts her small sword forward and Rowan blocks her jab. He laughs in victory, but my littlest sibling doesn't let up. She swings her dull blade in fast arches and never takes a step back unless she must. Her form is excellent and her tactics sound, utilizing every opening to her advantage. By the sweat dripping down Rowan's brow, I can tell she is a fierce pint-size opponent.

Ansley sweeps her blade across our brother's abdomen and bursts into ecstatic laughter. She turns toward the house where Papa and I sit side by side on the rocking chairs on the porch. "Did you see, Elle? Did you see how I got him?"

I can't help but laugh along with her. The Statera knows that I've taken my losses when sparring with Rowan. "Good job. Now let's see if you can knock him on his bottom."

Rowan groans as Ansley charges for him again. "I think it is your turn to sword fight with her."

"Oh, no. This is payback and I'm enjoying every minute of it," I say with a chuckle.

"I don't know if you saw this morning, but Ansley peered down the stairs before breakfast to see what you were wearing. She came back down in that," Papa says, pointing the dagger he is sharpening in her directions.

Sure enough, like me, Ansley wears a light-brown breeches with a sky-blue tunic unlaced at the top and knee-high riding boots.

Papa scrapes the blade along the whetstone again and continues to say, "Kyron has spent hours training her. Not by choice, but she is so persistent, just like you. He couldn't have said no if he wanted to."

I pull my gaze away from the patch of grass my siblings use as a sparring ring and turn to see the pride on Papa's face. The weeks of worry took a toll on him. The lines are deeper in his face and his hair whiter, but I can't recall the last time I saw him this calm. He knows the dangers that loom over our kingdom, yet having his entire family under his roof brings him peace.

I set my rocking chair to the pace of his, causing the porch floorboards groan in time. "Kyron told me that people haven't taken well to his accession to king," I say.

"He has made major changes and people never take well to that. They will get over it with time and see his value as king. He also spent the first months of his reign distracted." He glances at me from the corner of his eye and a soft smile lifts his lips. "I don't hold that against him, but others do. They felt his single-mindedness toward finding you was a testament to his priorities as ruler."

I lean back in my chair and wrap my arms around my waist. It feels so safe here, surrounded by the things of my youth, Salone sitting prettily under the pecan tree while Mama brushes her hair, and Rowan and Ansley playing in the sunshine that beats down on our yard. I've spent almost two weeks tucked away at my childhood home, my family safe and sound as we grapple to return to our normal. The truth is that we may never find it, not while our kingdom faces unrest. One catastrophe and our family will be ripped apart again. Rowan could be called to war, Papa will have to protect our king if our peoples' discourse continues to grow, and me... I'm the single focus of the man who we need to lead our kingdom.

"How long do you think we have until the Allaji attack?" I ask.

Papa sets his dagger down and releases an exasperated breath. "Days. Weeks at best."

I'm not surprised by his prediction; I would have made the same guess. Zek isn't one to let conflict simmer and find a rational conclusion. He is all jerk reaction. "And if war were to come tomorrow, what are the chances that we win?"

"We might win a battle or two, but a long-term war... this would all become Allaji territory."

I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the tears from coming. My chin trembles from the effort, but I manage to keep them at bay.

No one, except for Ulric and me, understands the full extent of the horror that will be unleased on our land. Pliris sees the missing bodies; they know their loved ones are working fields under extreme duress. The hunger, the torture, the death—they have no idea how merciless it all is. Not even Kyron can comprehend the nightmare that awaits us if we do not defeat the Allaji.

"Kyron needs to be focused on the right things," I flatly say.

"He does."

I tilt my head and lift an eyebrow. "But he is not."

"I think he questions his ability to lead as king."

"So he says, but he was a phenomenal general!"

Papa shrugs and says, "He had time to prove himself as a soldier. Those under his command were personally impacted by him. He sweated and bled with them. He saved their lives. That trust wasn't given overnight, Raelle. But his rule was."

That leads me back to my original thought. Kyron needs to be focused on our people, on earning their trust, rescuing the Cyffred, and preparing for war. Making me his queen will not keep Pliris from falling apart. He thinks I'm an answer to everything that is going wrong. In fact, I might be the one who damns us all.

It is one thing to go against a sovereign and another to provoke the wrath of the Statera. It has given its judgment for my transgressions. I can't change what I did or the consequences it brought upon me. Not that I would have done it any differently. And just because I've been disgraced doesn't mean that I'm of no value to my kingdom. I can still serve my people and spend the rest of my life with Kyron. Our life together just won't be what we thought it would.

"Papa, would you be upset if I no longer wanted to be queen? If I took that option off the table for Kyron."

I can see the onslaught of thoughts bombarding him as he stutters over his words for a moment. My entire life has revolved around me taking the crown. I was the unifier, the first Cyffred queen. Micah's final wish was that I rule with Kyron. To denounce what was always said to be mine would feel wrong. Yet, it is the right thing to do.

Papa runs his hand over his face, pulling on his beard as he reaches the end. "I don't think breaking things off with Kyron will fare well for everyone, including you. He was lost without you, Raelle. The two of you are meant to be together."

"I agree. And I don't intend to leave his side, but he has to let go of the notion that he can overrule the Statera make me his queen. It's a fool's errand. Besides, a crown doesn't make me anymore his Parah than I already am."

"No, it doesn't." He stares out at my mother, smiling when her face lights up with something Salone says. My parents don't share a Parah Bond, but what they have is just as precious and strong. They would go to the ends of the five kingdoms and beyond for each other.

And Kyron and I... I consider us blessed to still have the bond we do. Crowns and rings be damned. I could still serve our kingdom at his side. We could still spend the rest of our lives together. We would just have to go about it in a different way.

Crown of Fire (Book 3 in the Crown Trilogy)Where stories live. Discover now