Chapter 14
On the morning of my Matching Ceremony, I should be getting ready.
Fretting over my hair, painting my eyelashes with lacquer, dealing with pre- ceremony jitters. Instead, I’m watching another man twirl a blade.
Lying on the floor beside my bed with one arm folded behind his head as a pillow, Acker’s eyes are trained on the twirling blade balanced on his middle finger. It defies logic, the blade spining upright, its point somehow not digging into the pad of his finger.
He was there when I awoke hours ago, and we’ve been lying in the quiet ever since, him doing magic tricks with the weapon and me going through my old sketchbooks. Most of them are terrible, but a few catch me by surprise.
Not this one though. I had tried to draw an animal from one of our textbooks—a horse—and I think I added an extra leg.
I slap the sketchbook shut and turn my attention to Acker. “What is your gift, exactly?”
He looks up at me, the blade remaining atop his finger. “I’m what they call an elemental. There’s many kinds, but I’m able to wield anything with metals. Iron, steel, brass.” He tosses the blade and catches it in his palm, holding it out for me to take.
I reach for it and run a thumb over the point, nicking myself. A wry smile pulls at his lips.
Sucking the blood from the pad of my thumb, I give him a look. He’s done well not being a snarky asshole all morning. No need to ruin it now.
His growing smile seems to reflect my internal musings.
“Tell me.” I run a finger over the initial inscribed on the hilt. I dare a look at him, gaining courage from the openness in his eyes. “Tell me everything you can.”
He nods once, turning his attention to the ceiling. “Your family were visiting my family in Kenta when you went missing. We were at our southern cottage by the ocean, and you weren’t in your bed when your mother went to wake you. After scouring the coast and surrounding woods, they suspected you’d snuck out to see the ocean on your own.” A pinch of worry creases between his brows.
“You were there,” I say, realizing he’s recounting his own memories. “I was,” he says, glancing at me. “I had just turned nine and was tasked with finding water elementals in town to help search the sea. The few we found worked together to push the tide back, searching for your body.”
Foolish hope swirls inside me. “My parents?” I inquire, unable to finish the question.
The worry of memory in his gaze smooths into a tender sort of joy.
“Your mother is alive.”
Something between a hiccup and a gasp escapes my mouth, and I hurry to cover it with my palm.
“She took your disappearance the hardest. There’ve been whispers and claims of sightings of you over the years, rumors about neighboring territories taking you. She sent sentry after sentry to hunt down any information they could find, but they never came up with anything substantial. Your father thought a funeral would help her come to terms with the loss, but she never gave up hope. I’m currently unsure of your father’s whereabouts.”
There’s sorrow in his gaze. It’s strange to look into his eyes and see pain reflected back at me.
“We knew each other,” I say in understanding.
He nods.
“We were close,” I clarify further.
He nods again.
“Friends even?”
A small smile overtakes his lips. “If you can believe it.” I shake my
head.
“I can’t.”
He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Is that how you recognized me at the Market?”
He tilts his head to the side. “It was your blade.”
I’ve been curious as to why he had it strapped to his person that day in the Market, but haven’t had the guts to inquire about it.
“It calls to you, as you do to it.”
I turn it in my fingers, looking at the cracks and divots with new eyes.
“Is it magic?”
Grinning, he sits up, leaning sideways against the bed so he can see the knife in my hands more clearly. “You made that blade with your father’s help,” he says. “He wanted you to be comfortable with a weapon early, and it’s seen as a rite of passage for children to forge their first blade by hand, so they have an appreciation for the skill and effort it takes to make them.”
I try to conjure an image of my father, but nothing emerges from the recesses of my mind.
“Whenever a weapon or tool is handmade from the hearthstone of the land, it is magicked to its maker. Axes or swords or even a battering ram— whatever it is will always answer the call of the person who made it. It’s why most blacksmiths are blood-oathed. Only the most righteous are trusted
to forge for others.”
“Where’s yours?”
“Sitting in pieces on my mantle at home, if I recall correctly. Splintered in half on a walnut not long after my eleventh birthday.” He holds out his palm, pointing to the scar between his thumb and forefinger.
“How did you end up with mine?”
“Your mother gave it to me when I joined the army, to have during my travels. It hummed when I saw you in the Market.” His eyes hold mine, searching for something in the depths that I’m unable to see. “I looked for you. In every market and podunk town, in every corner of every land, I searched each face for yours.”
I’m without breath. Without words, really. Overcome with an unnamed emotion, I bite my tongue out of fear of saying anything at all.
He swallows and lets his eyes fall to the floor, but I get the sense it’s more to give me reprieve than it is for his benefit. “And I had quit looking.
It became harder to convince myself you were still alive, as the years went by, and instead I wore the blade in honor of your memory, having long since given up hope that it would lead me to you. That’s why I couldn’t believe it was you when the blade signaled your presence. Even when I saw you with my own eyes, like a ghost in broad daylight, I refused to believe it.
Because…” He trails off, looking up at me. “Because it meant I gave up on you.”
His shame is palpable. It sends a sharp pain through my chest. For the friend I didn’t get a chance to grow older with or for having no way to appease his guilt, I’m not sure.
I quickly remind myself that he falsely accused me of thievery and threatened to take my hand as payment. He’s still Kenta, still a soldier of a ruler who exiled an entire population of people just because of one person’s deeds—assuming everything Acker has told me is true.
I hand the blade back to him, both to give him a distraction from his shameful thoughts and simply because I like watching him play with it.
“So,” I say, balancing my chin on my hand. “What’s my title?”
He lifts a brow. “Thinking a little highly of yourself, aren’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “The Alaha wouldn’t breach enemy lines to steal a child of a commoner.”
He smiles, all teeth and pretentiousness. “You are Princess Jovie of the
Maile.”
I laugh. “No, really. What am I?”
He doesn’t blink. “The Maile have been ruled by your family for the last century. Longer than mine have ruled in Kenta, even.”
My smile falls away when he doesn’t smile back. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly,” he answers.
I flop back on the bed, at a loss for words. Maile. May-lee. Not Alaha or Kenta, but Maile—and a princess at that.
“I don’t understand. Why would Wren kidnap me? For what?”
“It started a war. There was a lot of finger-pointing, many accusations thrown around. It’s probably exactly what Wren was aiming for, to cause infighting between the remaining territories in hopes that he could pick off
the weakest and commandeer their land.”
“Well, it obviously didn’t work.”
Morning light filters in through the curtain of the window, casting streaks of gold across his shoulders and hair, highlighting the russet in his eyes. They shine up at me.
“I’m starting to wonder if it’s more sinister than that.”
I roll onto my side and face him. “What do you mean?”
“You know about Alaha’s Matching Ceremony,” he says, eyeing me.
“But a true love Match isn’t chosen—it’s gifted. Just like your magic.”
Acker’s gaze flickers as he considers his next words. “A true Match is rare, a bond like no other. If Kai was able to convince you that you are his Match, he could claim half your Maile territory.”
I don’t understand. “But I would have found out his motives once we were on land, surely.”
“What you’ve been exposed to here is a fraction of what it would be at full power on land.” He makes a face like he already regrets what he’s about to reveal. “And his magic becomes more potent through physical connection,” he says, voice tense. “Touching, skin to skin. Or, as you probably know, mouth to mouth.”
I hold a hand up to stop him from continuing. “I get it.”
“By the time you found out who you really are and what they’ve done, you wouldn’t care. The person you are would cease to exist outside of what Kai influences you to think or feel.”
Doubt lingers in the back of my mind. The idea that I could lose all sense of self, all sense of free will by someone else’s hand, magical abilities or not … Acker stands abruptly. “Someone’s coming.”
“It’s probably the breakfast Kai is having delivered.”
He’s unmoving, head tilted, listening for what I’m not sure, considering
he’s attempting to hear through walls.
“Wha—”
He reaches for the blade and shoves the hilt into my hand, motioning for me to be quiet with a finger over his lips before pointing at the ceiling. A knock sounds at the door. I glance in its direction then back toward Acker, but he’s already disappearing through the window. I shove my legs into a pair of pants and slide the blade into the back of my waistband before covering it with my tunic.
Taking a deep breath, I unlatch the door and open it. “Faline,” I say, unable to hide my shock.
“Good morning,” she says, beaming. “I wanted to bring your dress.”
She raises an arm draped in fabric. “Can I come in?”
A guard stands behind her, looking bored. “Sure,” I say, fully aware I can’t deny her entry.
Her dress flows around her ankles as she breezes past me, hair in intricate plaits with flowers woven throughout. She takes in my small abode, eyes lingering on my bed, the wash bin, and the toilet in the corner. I would have once been humiliated in the face of her perusal, but I keep my chin held high when she finally meets my stare.
“Today’s the big day,” she says, masking her acuity. “How are you feeling?”
I blow out a breath. “Sick to my stomach.”
She smiles, the epitome of understanding and kindness. “That’s normal.
Kai misplaced his sword twice this morning.”
There’s a beat of awkwardness when I don’t reply. The mention of Kai reminds me of the open wound beating inside my chest.
“There’s no need to be nervous. The day will go by fast and you two will be together by sundown.”
I nod. This is awkward on so many levels.
“Anyway,” she says, placing the gown on the bed. She tugs and pinches at the fabric to prevent wrinkling. “I also wanted a moment to speak with you.”
We sit on the edge of my bed with the dress between us. She tries to tuck a hair behind her ear even though she doesn’t have a single flyaway, and I realize she’s the one who’s nervous.
“I don’t know if you remember when your parents died, but there was a time you came and lived with the captain and me.”
I nod, a slow dip of my head. “I remember.”
“You were inconsolable. Day and night, I held you in my arms as you cried, trying and failing to give you some semblance of comfort. That was … until Kai took a liking to you.” A soft smile pulls at her lips. “We’d kept you apart, not wanting to overwhelm you. Kai was a bit of a hellion at that age, but he managed to escape his father’s eye and came into our room one night when I was attempting to get you to rest. He saw you and somehow knew to be gentle—he was so quiet as he crept closer to get a look. You locked eyes with each other, and it was the first time you quit crying in weeks.” Tears form in her eyes. “From that point on, you two were
inseparable.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
She dabs under her eyes with a finger. “I’m going to be a sobbing mess today, aren’t I?”
Reaching over, I place a hand over hers. “Thank you.” I’m not sure what I’m thanking her for, but it feels appropriate at the moment.
She squeezes my hand between hers. “I should let you get ready for the ceremony.”
I’ve stood to escort her out when an idea occurs to me. “Before you go,”
I say, holding the door open. “Can I ask you a favor?”
She’s taken aback but smiles. “Of course.”
“It’s a little embarrassing, but the gift you give your match after the ceremony … I, well … I haven’t received my official pay as a guard yet—”
“Say no more,” she says, cutting me off. Digging into the coin purse hanging from her hip, she deposits a handful of coins. I manage not to gawk at the number of gold and silver in the mix, and she winks at me before walking away.
In the time it takes me to shut and latch the door, Acker is back in my room. He eyes the dress on my bed, gaze swinging to me. It really is a pretty dress, the nicest I’ve ever owned. I suppose that’s what I could have been thanking Faline for.
I toss it on the floor. “We’ll wait for the Matching Ceremony to start, then we’ll sneak away in one of the fishing boats. It’s the only time that part of the docks won’t be guarded.”
Acker smiles, but it’s straight filth when he says, “Shame. I was kind of looking forward to tying you up.”
