Page 45 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

Wyldaern asked, ‘And if this is a ploy? To keep us in Luminaux?’

Thierre locked eyes with the Seer as he said, ‘I gave you my word.’

Cahra spoke. ‘We will give you one night.One. Then we’re gone.’

ThenI’m gone.

Wyldaern gave a supportive nod.

Thierre inclined his head in return, his indigo eyes flickering to Cahra for a moment, then away. As if hesitating. ‘Cahra, there is something else.’

Cahra stared at him. ‘No,’ she said, her voice hollow, even to her.

No. No more lies.

Thierre opened his mouth, then shut it. Before looking blankly out the window, his lips a taut line as the coach rode for Luminaux.

Cahra just stared into the Wilds, wondering how she’d managed to care so much for someone she didn’t even know.

Everyone was silent for the rest of the journey, as the horses rode hard to get Thierre behind Luminaux’s walled defences. Any excitement Cahra had felt about the kingdom was long gone and, in its place, there was only anguish. It must have showed, because she could feel Thierre watching her, casting her pained glances, but she refused to acknowledge them. There was no point. Even if somehow, impossibly, he felt an inkling of what she did, he was a Prince. Whatever she’d stupidly imagined may have been between them, whatever they’d shared when he touched her hand—

It had no hope.

Cahra kept her face angled to the outside world, away from Thierre, and started to notice subtle changes in the Wilds along the cobbled road to Luminaux. Little things, at first: the dimness easing, more daylight breaking through the speckled foliage of the forest ceiling. Dainty red, white and pink flowers lined the roadside, green undulating grasses at their backs. The houses they passed were neater, lovelier, with curving stone paths and tended gardens. And the sound of animals had returned, the melodious songs of robins and sparrows warbling through the windows of the coach. She studied the homes, the white wood, clean glass and boldly painted doors – all the hues of the rainbow – greeting them at every turn. Cahra could hear the splish-splash of a brook nearby. Life was returning.

And with it, enough misery for her to drown in.

She watched Wyldaern, the Seer unmoved by the vistas outside. At least Cahra wouldn’t be alone to face Luminaux’s royals.

Cahra closed her eyes as the realisation hit. Seers, she thought, then glanced at Wyldaern and committed to less cursing. But arriving in Luminaux would require meeting the kingdom’s King and Queen, Thierre’s parents.

She’d never be with him, but she’d have to meet, greet,curtseyto his royal parents. See his castle, like the Steward’s in Kolyath.

It was too much, Cahra thought, inhaling a shaky breath.

Wyldaern noticed, shifting closer to her. Cahra wanted to smile at the Seer’s kindness, but she couldn’t force the expression to her face. All she felt, all that consumed her was a grim churning in the pit of her stomach with the knowledge that Thierre had lied. He had seen her – Cahra had shown him who she really was – and he had broken that fledgling trust.

Had held her hand. Laid her in his bed.

She shook her head, as if she could wrench the memories from it. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered! It didn’t matter what she thought or how she felt about him, he wasCrownPrince Thierre of Luminaux.

No matter what he’d said about titles, a low-born would never matter to Thierre.

Cahra looked up from her clasped hands, knuckles white, as if gripping something, anything, would stop her falling to pieces. Silver birches swayed in the sun, the trees glowing like happy apparitions, and she scented sweet jasmine on the breeze that tousled her hair. Then a familiar metal caught her eye – bars, wrought and thorned and jet-black as night, that were set into the nearing kingdom’s dry-stone fortifications.

She watched as Thierre’s smile lit up his blue goldstone eyes. Without a word, he and Raiden raised an arm out each window, signalling their arrival to their home kingdom.

Wyldaern glanced at Cahra, who took a single, sinking breath.

They’d arrived in Luminaux.

CHAPTER 20

Atriposte, ruler of Kolyath, lounged atop his gilded throne, perusing the battle report that had arrived via rock dove. Kolyath had triumphed against Luminaux’s armed forces, moving his kingdom toward the area’s strategic goal: the enemy’s most active, lucrative mine. Atriposte bared his teeth in a self-satisfied smile. Their last encounter with Luminaux had scattered his army during its retreat. This time, his men returned the courtesy with blood. It was progress, warranting a celebration.

He slid the scroll into his throne’s left secret compartment, the compartment on the right concealing his favourite throwing dagger. Then Atriposte snapped his fleshy fingers, a mute servant appearing a moment later. Frowning at the delay, Atriposte twisted to unleash a torrent at the sluggish wench, but the drudgling was already pouring his wine. He snatched it, swirling the rich red in its goblet and eyeing the servant through narrowed amber eyes, his hand drifting towards his hidden dagger. He was recalling the thrill of its swirling steel when a figure in gold armour burst in.

Impatient, he watched Sullian, Commander of the Kingdom Army, traverse the vast expanse of the great hall. Above them, hammers forming the heraldry of Kolyath adorned the vaulted ceiling, a relic from the bygone era of Kings and an enduring symbol of the reign of Stewards. Sullian’s gait, paired with the perturbed look to his face, could only mean bad tidings. But then, Atriposte already knew why Sullian was here.

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