CHAPTER NINETEEN
The skies opened up again when Kiva was halfway back to Vallenia, leaving her a shivering, sopping mess by the time she rode through the palace gates.
With an affectionate pat to her mud-flecked horse, she left him in the hands of the royal grooms, before sloshing her way up the darkened gravel toward the palace.
Painfully aware of how late it was, Kiva braced as she dripped water up the red-carpeted staircases, certain she’d find Caldon waiting in her suite, ready to unleash his fury.
What she hadn’t anticipated was that Jaren would have returned in time to witness it.
Kiva repressed a groan as his gaze sliced to her upon entry, his face uncharacteristically blank.
Caldon, however, was staring at her with unbridled rage, his arms crossed, his cobalt eyes blazing.
Both princes were standing, as was Naari, who frowned at Kiva with clear disappointment. Mirryn alone reclined on the couch, appearing entertained.
Kiva paid the princess no mind, nor did she worry about anyone else for the moment, because her eyes landed on the final person in the room. Tipp was huddled on the armchair she’d left Caldon in, his arms around his knees, his face pale, looking anywhere but at her.
Alarmed by his posture, Kiva hurried over and crouched by his side, her
clothes sloshing with the movement.
“Tipp?”
He didn’t respond, and her concern only grew, until finally he looked at her, his lip wobbling as he whispered, “I’m s-s-sorry. You were g-gone for so long, and everyone was s-so worried. I had t-to tell them.”
Kiva closed her eyes with resignation, all the excuses she’d come up with on her ride back now useless. Even so, she cupped his cheek with her ice- cold hand and said, “It’s all right. I don’t blame you.”
Rising again, she turned to face the others. No one spoke, as if waiting for her to make the first move. But when she continued to just look at them, Caldon finally snapped, pointing a finger at her face and demanding, “Where
the hell have you been?”
“I —”
“You were abducted barely a week ago!” he interrupted loudly. “You don’t go wandering off on your own, and you certainly don’t leave the city for any reason, least of all to see your siblings who haven’t cared a whit about you for a decade. Gods, Kiva, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“But I —”
He cut her off with another finger jab. “And you do not, under any circumstances, gods-damned drug me.” Yelling now, he finished, “What the hell were you thinking?”
Kiva curled her arms around her middle, unable to defend herself in the face of his — admittedly justified — anger.
“Cal,” Jaren said quietly, lowering his cousin’s hand. “Let her speak.”
“This ought to be good,” Mirryn said gleefully from her position on the couch, a goblet of wine in her hand.
Kiva didn’t look at the princess, her focus torn between Jaren and Caldon, one who was vibrating with rage, the other who was eerily calm.
Swallowing, she drew her wet cloak tighter and asked, “What did Tipp tell you?”
“No,” Caldon snapped. “You don’t get to repeat what we already know.
We’ve been worried — for hours. We were just about to call the guards to launch a search party. Another search party. So you need to start talking.
Right now.”
Through all of this, Jaren remained silent, his face still alarmingly blank.
Caldon’s anger she could handle. But Jaren’s remoteness?
That was too much for Kiva to bear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered — to them both. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just —” She drew on everything she was feeling, repeating the performance she’d given Tipp earlier that day. “I just wanted to see my family. To see if they — if they —” She made her throat bob, allowed tears to pool in her eyes. “To see if they wanted anything to do with me. After Zalindov.”
Caldon’s anger didn’t fade, but Jaren’s eyes flickered with compassion, his expression thawing. He reached for the blanket Tipp had left out and moved forward to wrap it around her shoulders, reminding her of how soaked
she was.
“You were gone a long time,” Jaren said quietly.
“I got caught in the storm,” Kiva said, a partial truth. “I decided it was safer to wait it out.” She indicated her drenched clothes and offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t realize the rain wasn’t finished.”
“The storm didn’t hit until late this afternoon,” Caldon stated, ignoring her attempt at levity. “You had plenty of time to return before then.”
“We had ten years of catching up to do,” Kiva lied. “I didn’t realize how quickly the day was passing.”
“You still haven’t said where you were,” Caldon said. “All Tipp could tell us was that it was ‘just out of the city’ — we had no idea where to look for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to look for me.” The words left Kiva before she could stop them.
“What part of this aren’t you understanding?” Caldon growled, his ire rising anew. “We care about you, Kiva. Ignoring that you deliberately kept me from coming with you — which I would have done in a heartbeat, as you damned well know — when you didn’t return, we thought something had happened to you. Do you have any idea how that feels, to know someone you care about is missing, possibly in danger, and you don’t know how to find them?”
The tears welling in Kiva’s eyes weren’t fake this time.
Caldon had lost both his parents after a storm had hit. He’d had no way to find them, or to know if they were still alive.
There were too many parallels with what Kiva had put him through that afternoon, unintentionally making him relive the worst moments of his life.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice breaking on the words.
Her emotion didn’t sway Caldon. “Saying sorry doesn’t change what you did. I can’t even stand to look at you right now.” True to his word, he turned his fiery glare to Jaren and demanded, “Come find me later.”
He didn’t wait for his cousin to agree before storming out of the room.
Kiva stared after him, feeling numb.
“He’ll come around. Give him time.”
Turning slowly, Kiva faced Jaren again, the breath leaving her when she found his expression no longer closed, but flooded with everything he’d felt while she’d been gone. Fear, dread, desperation. And relief — so much relief that she was safe.
Her knees wobbled at the knowledge of how much power she held over him. . . . And at the knowledge of how much, with a single look, he held over her.
Unable to continue holding his gaze, Kiva couldn’t resist — didn’t want to resist — when he drew her into his embrace.
“I won’t tell you not to do it again,” he whispered. “I won’t trap you here.
But please, it would mean a lot if you could tell someone where you’re going next time.”
Kiva nodded against his chest, unable to lie to his face, his generous understanding prompting a sharp pain within her.
This was the Jaren that she hated.
Because this was the Jaren that she — that she — Kiva didn’t finish the thought, refusing to admit how deeply she’d come to care for him.
And it wasn’t only Jaren. If her continued numbness was any indication, Caldon had also clawed his way into her heart, if in a more platonic way. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop replaying his parting glare and his quick, angry departure.
Clearing her throat, Kiva stepped back from Jaren, longing to escape into her room and be done with the day.
“Is that it?” Mirryn asked incredulously from the couch. “Aren’t we all curious about how her reunion went?”
“Mirry,” Jaren said, quietly but firmly. “If Kiva doesn’t want to tell us,
then she doesn’t have to.”
“I’d like to know.”
The words came from Naari, who until now had remained silent. One look revealed that she was still upset, having explicitly told Kiva to be smart, to be safe — neither of which she’d been that day.
“K-Kiva?” came Tipp’s hesitant voice. “Will you t-tell us? Please? What happened with y-your family?”
Jaren’s open expression said the choice was hers, but after what she’d put them through, Kiva felt compelled to answer.
“It went . . . well,” she said. “We ate scones and drank tea and talked for hours.”
Now she was mixing her stories. If she wasn’t careful, she would be caught in one of her many tangled lies.
“Your brother and sister, right?” Jaren probed. “That’s what Tipp told us.”
“Yes. Zuleeka and Torell.” Kiva only felt safe sharing their names because the Royal Council hadn’t yet been able to identify the Viper and the Jackal, and Tor had confirmed they’d kept their identities secret so they could move freely around the kingdom.
“And where, pray tell, did you meet these siblings of yours?” Mirryn asked, peering at Kiva over her wine.
Since Torell and Zuleeka were safely hidden deep in the forest, she offered another partial truth by saying, “Oakhollow.”
Naari made a startled sound. “You rode to Oakhollow on your own? Do you know how many people get lost in those woods?”
“I didn’t go into the woods,” Kiva said, continuing to lie. She almost wished she’d admitted to visiting her grandmother in Blackwater Bog right from the beginning, but then she recalled that at least four elderly residents now knew her secret. If someone were to travel to the swamp and ask questions . . . No, it was safer for Kiva to continue talking about her siblings, both of whom would be much harder to locate.
Or that was what Kiva thought, until Mirryn said, “I think you should invite them here for lunch. Tomorrow.”
Kiva’s eyes unconsciously widened. “Pardon?”
“It seems only fair,” the princess said. “You’ve gotten to know our family — we should get to know yours.”
“I — um —” Kiva tried to think up an excuse, but her mind was blanking.
“That’s settled, then,” Mirryn said, rising elegantly. “Send them a missive. I’ll have the kitchen staff prepare something delicious. We’ll make
an event of it.”
“No, please, I don’t —” Kiva tried.
Mirryn waved her now empty goblet. “I’m kidding. We’ll keep it informal. No need to look so panicked, Kiva. It’ll be fun.”
Fun was the last word Kiva thought it would be, but Mirryn sashayed out the door before she could protest.
“They might not be able to make it on such short notice,” Kiva said weakly to Jaren and Naari. Tipp alone looked excited by the idea of meeting her siblings, his vibrancy returning now that he knew she wasn’t in any serious trouble.
“All you can do is ask,” Naari said, gesturing to the small desk in the corner of the sitting room. “Write your note, and I’ll have the royal courier deliver it tonight.”
Feeling pressured, Kiva moved toward the desk, her mind screaming that this was a bad idea. But with no valid reason to object, she reluctantly took her seat and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, frustratingly aware of Naari moving closer as she began to write.
Dearest brother and sister,
It was so wonderful being reunited with you today. Thank you for welcoming me into your home in Oakhollow, and for offering comfort when I struggled to control everything I was feeling. I’m confident the coming days will be better.
In return for your kindness, I wish to invite you to lunch at the River Palace tomorrow. Please reply at your earliest convenience, but I understand if you are unable to attend.
With love,
Kiva
“All done?” Naari asked, shamelessly reading over her shoulder.
Kiva nodded, hoping the near-rambling words were innocent enough to avoid suspicion — but also that her siblings would note the hidden details she’d offered, including that she’d found a way to repress her magic and how they needed to turn down her invitation.
Jaren approached, and Kiva braced herself for his perusal of her message, but he only gave it a passing glance before saying, “You’re not using your
code?”
Kiva stilled. “Sorry?”
“The note you sent your family when we left Zalindov was written in a code,” Jaren said. “I figured it was a sibling thing.”
“You’re right,” Kiva said, her voice rough. “I’ll, uh, add something at the bottom, just so they know it’s definitely from me.”
Dipping her quill again, Kiva barely kept her hand from shaking as she finished her message.
Got stuck at Bog today. Told royals I was with you. They want to meet.
Don’t come.
Kiva almost underlined the final two words, but she feared that might be overkill.
“What does it say?” Naari asked, squinting at the scribbles.
“That I’m looking forward to seeing them again,” Kiva lied, folding the message and writing Torell and Zuleeka Meridan on the front, before addressing it to The Tippled Boar, Oakhollow.
Naari plucked the finished note from her hand, a hint of suspicion in her amber eyes, but since that was the guard’s natural expression, Kiva tried not to let it faze her.
“I can’t w-wait to meet your family,” Tipp said. “Mirry’s r-r-right — lunch is going to b-be fun!”
Kiva forced a smile, hoping she didn’t look as sick as she felt.
Surely Tor and Zuleeka would know better than to come.
And yet . . . as everyone slowly dispersed from her sitting room, Kiva couldn’t help fearing that curiosity alone might draw her siblings to the palace, her gut churning at the thought of what the following day would bring.
