Page 32 of A War of Three Kings

“Is it?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is there a certain prince you are daydreaming about? Are you hoping he will do some grand act to declare his secret love for you?”

A red flush creeps across her cheeks, and she waves the mention of Prince Niall away. “This isn’t about me, Keira.”

I let out a long breath. “How do I learn to trust him again, Brianna? What other secrets is he hiding?” I run a hand over my face. “Honestly, I don’t deserve him.” A tear falls from my eye, and mortification fills me at such a display in front of our troops.

Brianna places a hand on my arm. “That should be his choice to make. Talk to him, Keira. You owe him that much.”

Cold dread fills me at the idea. I am afraid to see the resentment in his eyes and hear the condemnation that would pour from his lips. I am terrified that all my ugly emotions will rise to the surface and push him away.

“Every time I try to talk to him, our father gets in the middle and drags one of us away,” I mutter.

A pained cry has me whipping my head back to Aldrin, heart racing.

Liam is bent over, clutching his sword arm at the wrist, grimacing in pain. “I think it’s broken,” he chokes out.

Aldrin runs a hand through his hair as he takes a step closer. “This is why you need to keep a protective pocket of air around your arm with these maneuvers. You can’t put too much force on one spot.” He holds out a hand to Liam. “Here, let me heal the bone for you.”

Aiden cuts between both men, blocking his brother from Aldrin. “I think you have done enough,fae. How do we know you didn’t purposely hurt him?”

“Have you never been injured while training before? Do accidents not happen in this realm?” Aldrin towers over both men, glowering at Aiden, who doesn’t back down.

I rush down the staircase to the shaded corner of the portico, where Klara is teaching healing techniques to the field medics.

I break into their little circle. “There has been an injury.”

Klara’s lilac eyes fly up to me. “Please don’t tell me Drake has burned someone again.”

I blink, but there is no time to ask questions. “A human training with Aldrin has broken an arm. Maybe you could teach a medic to heal it?” It is the only way Aiden will allow a fae to heal his brother—if he believes a human is overseeing it.

Klara pushes past me and stalks straight for Aldrin, her team of medics eagerly trailing after her. At least some of my people are taking this seriously.

“Aldrin, I told you to be careful with them,” Klara growls. “You know how fragile humans are.”

I cringe. Aldrin looks abashed and the guards around them bristle at the insult. The beginnings of a headache pulse at my temples.

“I’m sorry, ah…Liam, was it?” Aldrin says. “Maybe we can try again later?”

Liam throws Aldrin a weak smile that turns into a cringe. “Yeah. Like you said. Injuries happen all the time in training.”

The guards around Aldrin grumble. I feel the weight of his gaze on my back, but I’m too scared of what I will find on his face if I turn to him. I focus instead on saying calming words to Aiden while Klara’s team heals his brother.

The tension in this courtyard is so thick I could slice it with a knife.

I wander through the people, ready to put out any fires as they begin. Sweat patches mark the clothes of guards who haven’t trained yet. Nervous anticipation is clear in the hard set of their jaws and the tightness of their shoulders.

I join a handful of people watching a guard take on an obstacle course Silvan has designed.

Logs are set up as hurdles at different heights. Rows of square hay bales are arranged as platforms. Walls of thick branches and vines are moving obstructions. A pitcher of wine hanging in the air at an impossible height is the prize at the end.

Gwyneth races through the course, her black braids pulled back into a thong, spraying out behind her. The Captain of the Guard splashes icy slush across the courtyard’s pavers, sliding through it on her knees to move under some hurdles and using a burst of air to propel her over others.

She moves with a speed I have never witnessed from her before. Caitlin would be proud to see her life partner. But as Gwyneth races toward the row of hay bales beneath the prize, the guards around me grumble with agitation.

The Captain of the Guard leaps on the first bale, then the second, her feet barely touching them before moving to the next. As her legs fly through the air, the next bale in the path slides a few feet from its original position.

She uses a puff of air to correct her momentum, and while her feet land on the bale, her body is pushed off course. The next hay bale sides too far in the opposite direction and Gwyneth stumbles to the ground, her feet tripping over each other until she finally catches herself.

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