Page 69 of Warrior Princess
Chief Aryan's stance softened slightly, the lines of conflict easing as he considered the implications. “Even so,” he started slowly, “why should we continue to risk our necks for one person?”
“Because it's the right thing to do,” Shiro said simply. “And because the Crimson Clan honors its debts. We protect our own, and right now, Leila is one of our own.”
Chief Aryan glared at me before rolling his eyes and looking away. “It seems you’re all going to go against me regardless of whether I agree or not.” He straightened to his full imposing height. “What do you propose we do?”
Shiro smirked and turned to me. “Well… I think it’s time for our dear Leila to sound the drums of war.”
Ronan and I wore matching looks of disbelief as we stared at the demon fox. “Excuse me?”
Shiro cleared his throat. “Apologies that you must find out this way, but your father…”
My heart plummeted. “What about my father?” I pushed past Ronan to stand before Shiro. “What happened?”
“After you and I fled, the fae kidnapped him.” He furrowed his brows, awaiting my reaction.
“Leila…” Ronan reached for my hand, lending comfort the way only he could.
I felt the world tilt beneath me as Shiro’s words echoed like a distant thunderstorm in my ears. “Kidnapped?” My voice was barely a whisper as I struggled to process Shiro's words. How could this happen? My father, the very pillar of Valoria, taken by Caelan’s men? By Orion, of all people?
Chief Aryan's gruff voice broke through my shock. “This changes things.” His expression hardened into a mask of resolve. “If they've taken Malik, they won't stop there. We need a plan, and we need itnow.”
Shiro nodded solemnly and started to outline his thoughts. “We strike fast and hard. We'll need every ally we can muster. Caelan and the fae are formidable, but not invincible.”
Ronan's grip tightened around my hand, grounding me as I felt myself spiraling in a vortex of fear-tinged determination.“Leila, we're going to get him back.” His voice was firm, his eyes burning with fierce protectiveness.
“What about my brother?” I blurted, reaching for Shiro’s arm. “My mother?”
He sighed. “Surprisingly, your mother was allowed to return to Valoria. As for your brother, he returned to Valoria with your mother to take control of Valoria before Caelan can show up.”
I stumbled backward as if I’d been struck in the face. “No, but that means my father is all alone!”
“He’ll be fine, Leila,” Ronan said. “Malik is strong-willed. As horrible as it is to consider, kidnapping him means Caelan must need him for something. Otherwise, he would have killed him outright.”
My mind raced a mile a minute. “Shiro is right… we need allies. We must send word to Avery. The time isnow. We can’t wait much longer!” I stopped pacing and stared into Ronan’s crimson eyes. “I need to get word to Mykal before he returns to Keldara.”
“I’ll go to the fabric shop to contact Avery,” Ronan volunteered. “Shiro, can you send word to Mykal to meet us?” As if just remembering the clan chieftain stood mute nearby, Ronan turned to Chief Aryan. “And Father… return to the Grasslands, but come back with our army. We’ll need it.”
His father started to argue immediately. “I’m not risking the safety of my people for—”
“I’ll send word to Marcel,” I interrupted. “He won’t like it, but he’ll march the troops south. I know he will.”
Chief Aryan rolled his eyes and offered a condescending smirk. “Are you sure? Your brother is not known for taking his sovereign duties seriously.” He glanced at Ronan and Shiro, as if trying to sway them to his way of thinking. “We cannot depend on Valoria with thatboyas the acting leader—”
“Thatboyis a man now,” I growled, tightening my fists. “He is more than capable of handling our army. Just you watch.”
Chief Aryan snorted and grabbed his things. “I’ll head out now. There’s no time to waste. We’ll regroup in ten days here in Marsten.”
“No!” I cut in. “We meet in the Silent Mountains. If we all converge in Marsten, it’s the equivalent of sending Caelan a big banner that we’re about to attack. We need to be strategic.”
Chief Aryan clenched his jaw but nodded before storming out of the room without a backwards glance.
The days seemedto crawl at a tortoise’s pace as everyone waited to hear back from our respective contacts. The inn's restaurant was a quiet hum of activity, the soft clinks of cutlery and low conversations creating a soothing backdrop. I sat at a secluded table near the window, gazing out at Marsten’s bustling streets, feeling oddly detached from it all. My mind was adrift in a sea of battle strategies and royal what-ifs, the weight of my father’s kidnapping pressing down on me like a physical burden.
Just as I took a sip of my lukewarm tea, the chair opposite me scraped back and Mykal slumped down into it, his presence commanding yet weary. He had just returned from Keldara after fleeing Eldwain after the massacre. His face was etched with the same lines of stress that were carved into my own skin.
“Leila,” he greeted, his voice low and even.
“Mykal.” I managed a small smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”
