Crowned In Enmity

Chapter 7

"You what?!" Astrid shrieks, her hands flying to her mouth as if to keep her shock from escaping further.

"Shh!" I hiss, casting a worried glance toward the closed door of my bedchamber. Astrid sits at the edge of my bed, her legs crossed and mismatched her eyes wide with excitement, practically vibrating with anticipation for the rest of the story.

"I don't know, it just... happened," I confess, feeling a deep flush spreading across my cheeks. "It definitely wasn't my intention to kiss him—or for him to kiss me, honestly. I'm not even sure who started it."

"Oh my gods," Astrid exclaims, leaning in closer, her curiosity palpable. "Was it at least a good kiss? He looks like he'd be a fantastic kisser. Though, he'd been at the war camp all day. His breath probably wasn't the best. Was it still a good kiss?"

I bury my face in my hands, the memory still making my heart race and the bond hum. "It was... gods, it was perfect," I mumble, my voice muffled by my palms.

"Even with bad breath?" Astrid teases, her voice laced with playful skepticism.

I roll my eyes and lift my head to meet her gaze. "He didn't have bad breath," I correct, my voice softening as I drift into the memory. "He tasted like salt, and blood, and... gods, it was intoxicating."

Astrid raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with dry humor. "Salt and blood. How very romantic."

"I never said it was romantic, and I assure you, it won't happen again. It was a lapse in judgment on my part. I was exhausted, the heat was unbearable, and I hadn't been drinking enough water."

Astrid's gaze remains fixed on me, her expression stern and unwavering.

"I'm serious about this," I insist, my voice steady. "He's a Montgomery. Engaging in any way with him would be a betrayal of my father's memory and an affront to everything I stand for. My loyalty to my country and my family's legacy is paramount, and I will not compromise on that."

Astrid rolls her eyes, shifting the conversation before things escalate any further. "Alright, alright. How did Dunhearth go?"

I let out a heavy sigh as I collapse onto my bed. "Hot, humid, and filthy," I grumble. "We managed to hold our ground against Keld and only lost around 150 men. Keld conceded before dawn, but I doubt this is over. King Keld is relentless. While we were all in Dunhearth, there was a surprise attack on one of Harnsey's mines. Keld blew it to smithereens, causing a cave-in. They lost about thirty workers in the process."

Astrid's brow furrows. "That sounds disastrous. Why would he attack a mine?"

"Disastrous doesn't even begin to cover it," I reply, rubbing my eyes wearily. "Every target Keld has hit so far has been a crucial resource point. Keld is systematically trying to cripple our economy."

"And their fighting tactics are..." I let out another groan, struggling to find the right words. "They're baffling. They attack with brutal force, but there's no real strategy, no method, no order. It's like they're just throwing everything they have at us without any thought for the aftermath. And then, when they're halfway defeated, they retreat. We've never had a decisive victory against Keld. They always pull back and run before we can truly claim a win."

"Why would they do that?" Astrid asks, her curiosity piqued. "I suppose it's to spare their remaining soldiers?"

I give her a look that is unintentionally dismissive, she quickly adds, "Don't give me that. Not all of us had personal tutors to teach us every minute detail of history. And I certainly don't have your knack for this kind of strategic analysis." She chuckles, her tone light and teasing, a clear sign that her remarks were meant in good humor, not criticism.