Page 80 of A War of Three Kings

I cradle my head on the parapet wall and do exactly as he says, focusing on each sensation around me until the thoughts slow and my heart rate lowers bit by bit.

Aldrin’s strong hands massage the tight muscles of my neck and shoulders, and with each deep stroke of his thumbs, it feels like he untangles the knots of my thoughts as well. I probably shouldn’t let him touch me like this out in the open, but no one can see us on this turret top, and I am so incredibly sick of hiding the love between us. I almost want to be caught.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he says gently.

I turn around in his arms, and they loop around my lower back. “How do people do this? Stomach the decision to go to war?”

Aldrin sighs. “For some people, it is easy. They are fueled by their greed or the sense of superiority that a successful conquest gives them. They only think of their own needs and see soldiers as tools meant to die for the glory of their ruler. For others like us, guilt can eat us alive. We only choose war when there are no options left. When to decline the call would put our people at greater risk, and to accept and win benefits us all. Now you understand why I hesitate to start a civil war to win my throne back.”

He lifts my chin with a long finger and forces me to look into his amber eyes.

“This war is larger than you or me.” Aldrin leans in and places the softest kiss on my lips.

Footsteps ring in the stairwell that leads to the rooftop. Aldrin takes a step away from me as my father and grandmother approach. I expect them to turn murderous at the sight of us alone together, but for the first time, they don’t glare at Aldrin or comment on it. The dynamic between us all has shifted.

Despite the warmth of the late summer night, a shiver runs down my spine.

My grandmother’s gaze searches me. I must look like a miserable wretch to her. “Enough of that, girl.” Her cold, bony hands grip mine and squeeze them. “You don’t have the luxury of self-pity. Get up, dust yourself off and harden your heart to Finan so he will never make you feel like this again. I know you thought you could convince him to stop this war, that you knew him so well you should have been able to reach him, but the boy has gone mad. The prince you knew is gone. I don’t think he ever really existed. Some people have multiple faces.”

I bite my lip. “Finan always knew the right thing to say to break me down and make me feel worthless. He always convinced me he was the only good thing in my life. It is easy to see through it now, but gods, it is hard to resist that reaction he trained in me to question myself. I would be a mess if I didn’t know what it truly meant to be valued by a man.” I give Aldrin a small smile. He has saved me in so many more ways than he realizes.

He stiffens. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

My father stares at Aldrin as though he has never seen him before. I don’t know what he is searching for, but a weight falls from my shoulders to see that there is no longer malice in his eyes.

“You don’t owe the boy a damned thing, Keira,” my grandmother continues. “But our soldiers need to see you strong and ready for a fight. Their morale depends on it, and theywantto protect you and every woman you stand for from the mad king.” Her long white hair ripples in the breeze as her gray eyes bore into mine. “Have faith in yourself.”

“We will give Finan’s army the fight of their lives.” I say. “They haven’t seen what we can do with our magic.”

My father pulls me into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry you have to endure this. You did well in the meeting today,” he says into my ear, then pulls away. “Remember, war is inevitable with a mad king, just like Aldrin said. The catalyst doesn’t matter.”

I laugh, shocking myself and everyone around me. “The meeting was a disaster! I almost set Finan’s entire pavilion on fire, and there was no negotiation of terms before Finan and I tried to destroy each other.”

My father grins and his emerald eyes sparkle. “But you made your father damned proud standing up to him. Not to mention, you put on a good show for our allies. They needed to see that you would fight for yourself and what this family is capable of.”

My grandmother huffs out a breath. “I don’t think I have ever been more terrified in my life than when he pulled a blade on you.”

Aldrin puts a hand behind his head, and a sheepish smile grows on his face. “I don’t think I helped to de-escalate the situation by threatening to kill the king.”

My father slaps him on the back. “Son, if it hadn’t been you promising violence, it would have been me.” He puts his arm around Aldrin’s shoulders and leads him to the staircase. “Now tell me, what did it feel like to wrap your hand around his scrawny neck and threaten to snap it?”

Aldrin laughs. “Good. Really, bloody good.”

My heart swells as I watch the two of them disappear down the stairs.

I take a glance over the parapet before I follow them. Levels of ramparts and watchtowers sprawl out beneath me, from the foot of one mountain all the way to the other.

The lower courtyards and the walkways above the immense gate are a hive of activity, soldiers moving back and forth in their emerald-and-bronze uniforms. Caitlin and Gwyneth rush between them, their voices carrying to me as they bark orders.

Massive cauldrons are being set up along the lower battlements, to be filled with hot tar that will be poured on the enemy if they attempt to scale the wall. Great catapults are being erected atop watchtowers. The sound of hammers striking nails rings out in the night.

For days, we prepare for war, while Drake and Zinnia take turns spying on the progress of the approaching army. There are countless meetings to plan our defensive strategies, but they are brief.

I venture into the killing field beyond the fortress, where Aldrin has planted ash trees in a neat row at the foot of each mountain. They will be a weapon the fae can tap into with their spring magic during the battle.

I pass Hawthorne as he pours raw magic into a juvenile tree, helping it grow, and he smiles at me. The tree beside him is barely a sapling. I place my hands on its flexible trunk and reach for the coiling, churning dam of raw magic deep within me.

I close my eyes to focus.

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