Page 9 of Warrior Princess
Shiro met my stare unflinchingly. “You are a descendant of the moon goddess; that should be explanation enough,” he gritted out. “I will not let you risk your life just like she did. You told me yourself that Keldara killed her. I will not allow her only female descendant to die by their hands as well!”
I paused and weighed their words, torn between my desire to help and the reality of the risks involved. General Thomas was correct— a neutral party was indeed preferable, as the unspoken truth left a pall in the room: whomever the Crimson Clan sent might not return alive. Standing there, surrounded by many who did not care for my well-being, I knew I had already done more than my share. I could step back now and allow them to resolve their issues, preserving the fragile peace that hung in the balance.
Chief Aryan's sigh resonated ponderously through the tension-filled air of the ritual hall, his resignation palpable as he turned to his next option. “Well, since the princess is unable to help us…Silas!” His sharp voice echoed off the stone walls. “You would be more than willing to go as our representative. Right?”
Silas stood a few paces away from Ronan and me, his figure tense. As we looked in his direction, a wave of panic visibly washed over him. He cleared his throat, his voice steady despite the evident reluctance in his eyes. “If that is what my chief desires, I will happily oblige,” he stated, though his gaze drifted away, unable to meet ours directly.
“Father!” Ronan's voice boomed as he pushed past me, his movements swift and determined. He confronted his father with fierce intensity. “This is Silas! He's like family. You can't march him into that lion's den! They'll send him back in pieces!”
Chief Aryan's eyes locked onto his son's, unyielding and cold. “Ronan, you can't have it both ways. Either she goes, or he does.”
“Ro, it's okay—” Silas began, trying to offer some reassurance.
“No!” I interjected forcefully, stepping further into the center of the hall. My voice echoed, silencing the murmurs around us. “I'llgo. There’s no need to shed any more Crimson Clan blood.” I turned to face General Thomas. The implication of my decision drew all eyes to me. “Can you guarantee my safety?”
“Leila!” Ronan's protest was drowned out by the gravity of the moment.
General Thomas, understanding the significance of the negotiation, gave a slight bow, his respect a thin veneer over his calculated demeanor. “Of course, Your Highness… although once you meet with the king, I cannot make any promises. I’m sure you understand.” His smirk was fleeting but telling.
“Of course,” I murmured softly, the reality of what I’d volunteered for settling in. My heart ached with the gravity of my decision, but the resolve to protect others from harm fortified my spirit. I glanced back at Ronan, whose expression was a complex tapestry of fear and despair, all mingled in a silent plea for reconsideration. Yet, the path forward seemed clear—stepping into this role might prevent further violence, a chance I felt compelled to take despite the dangers it entailed.
“Then that settles it!” General Thomas grinned and clapped his hands. “Princess Lyanna will accompany us back to Keldara—”
“Wait!” I held up a hand, intent on adding my own stipulation. “I want Commander Mykal Kaiser to escort me toKeldara.” Yes, I was foolhardy for those I loved, but I wasn’t stupid enough to go without some sort of protection.
General Thomas’s grin faltered slightly. “Commander Mykal Kaiser?” he repeated. “I wasn’t aware you knew him.”
I smirked. “Commander Mykal and I go way back. He’s a dear friend and I would feel more comfortable with him as my escort, General Thomas. I’m sure you understand.”
He cleared his throat. “Very well.” He peered over his shoulder at one of his companions. “Send word to the Commander.” Then he turned his attention back to me. “I hope this isn’t a trick, Your Highness.”
I smiled. “No trick at all. I’m a woman of my word.”
5
“Are youinsane, Leila?” Ronan's sharp voice was tinged with disbelief as we stepped out of the dim, oppressive atmosphere of the ritual hall and into the bright, lively village.
“She must be,” Shiro muttered, his tone low and incredulous. “I have never known someone so keen on dying for someone else’s cause.”
I couldn't help but snort at their dramatics. “That is certainly not the case,” I asserted as we dodged a group of laughing children who darted past, their joy a stark contrast to the grave discussion at hand. The air was rich with the scents of cooking food from nearby homes, and the distant clatter of a blacksmith's hammer provided a steady backdrop to our tense conversation. “But we all know this is our best option.”
“Our?” Ronan echoed, the skepticism clear in his voice. “You are Valorian, Leila. Thereisnoour—”
I glared at him, stopping in my tracks. “I may not be from the Crimson Clan, but you are mine!” I retorted. My firm words were filled with an intensity that made a few villagers nearby glancecuriously in our direction. “I will do anything and everything in my power to protect you. So yes, Ronan, this isourbest option.”
He exhaled deeply and ran a hand through his long hair in frustration. “You know what I meant, Leila,” he murmured, his tone softening.
“Who is this Commander Mykal Kaiser?” Shiro interjected, clearly trying to understand more about the political landscape after being asleep for centuries. He stood with his arms crossed, his tail swishing thoughtfully behind him.
“He’s the commander of the Keldaran army,” Ronan explained, his expression turning grave. “As well as the adopted son of the Keldaran king.”
Shiro's brow furrowed. “Adopted son? The king has no heirs?”
I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t.”
“And you are close friends with this commander?” Shiro probed further.
I winced slightly at the description. “Well… I wouldn’t call us close, or friends, exactly, but we’re something, I guess.”
