Page 56 of The Princess Knight
Ronan’s hand moved automatically, reaching for her, hovering near her face before dropping to her shoulder. She softened at his touch, and that tightness in his chest from earlier seemed to ease.
“If you want to prove him wrong, you need to prove it to yourself first.” He understood her struggle, the thoughts that raced through her brain and the desires that seemed impossible. “He’s blinded by his own ego and ambitions; he may never see you as you are. But he has no place in your fight. Keep your mind on what matters and let spite fuel you, but don’t let it hold you back.”
***
“GENERALKORDISLAEN IS LOOKING FOR YOU.”
Draoi Griffin’s voice roused Ronan from his reading. He stood to face the Draoi, then flinched as a throbbing ache ran down his legs, and pain rushed through his nerves. He leaned against the armrest, hoping Griffin wouldn’t see. “He is?”
“Follow me.”
Griffin led him out of the study. They made their way out of the eastern wing of the castle, where the daltas were housed, and into the western halls. Ronan had seen warriors and Draoi cometo and from this section of the castle but had yet to be granted the chance to see it himself.
The halls grew quieter the farther into its depths they traveled. Fewer warriors crossed their path. Griffin stopped in front of an ornately carved wooden door, nodding toward it. “Go on.”
Ronan cautiously grabbed the handle and let himself in.
It opened onto a large room, longer than it was wide. Candlelight flickered against the tapestries and bookshelves that lined the walls. There were no windows. In the center of the room, a wide wooden table stood with chairs neatly tucked in and papers piled carefully on top. Kordislaen sat facing Ronan at the head of the table, waiting.
“You’ve arrived. Take a seat.” He motioned as the door closed behind Ronan, leaving Griffin outside. Once Ronan did as he was told, Kordislaen continued. “How have you been liking Caisleán?”
It had been over a month since Ronan and the general last spoke in confidence. Why had he been summoned now?
“It’s wonderful, sir.” He subtly adjusted his leg, an attempt to ease the pressure and reduce some of the pain.
“I’m glad you think so. I knew you would do well here the day we met, and you’ve continued to prove me right. Your talent is unmatched.” Kordislaen remained impassive.
“Thank you.”
“You have leadership skills, an innate ability I could never teach, no matter how hard I tried.Thatis valuable.” Kordislaen paused for a moment, rising from his chair. “You remind me a lot of myself. From the start, I saw that in you—the determination, that keen desire for vengeance. I know how it is to be thrownaside. To see the worst that life has to offer, then be forced to endure. It’s been nearly thirty years since I saw my village destroyed in an invasion, but there are some things you don’t forget. No matter how much you may wish otherwise.”
Ronan thought of the nights when he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing blood spattered on streets.
Kordislaen smiled. “Even while here, I’ve heard of your triumphs, your quick rise through the ranks. I always kept my eye on you, interested to see who you’d become. You’ve made me proud, boy.” Warmth blossomed in Ronan’s chest. “You’re just like I was at your age—fighting for acclaim, accepting any excuse to put a sword in your hands, if only to prove to the world that you’re more than they think.
“After my village was raided, we were scarred and broken, and no one gave us any thought. But I decided I would make them. I dedicated myself to the crown. I fought and bled until finally I bought us a reprieve from the onslaught of invasions. We chased the Ionróirans off our shores, and it was years before they were seen again. I see promise in you, Ronan. I saw it that very first day and I still see it now. You have potential for greatness, and it’s because of this that I have a request for you.”
Ronan didn’t stop to think. “Anything, sir.”
“Threats in this kingdom are growing. Given the altercation during your trip to Álainndore, and what you witnessed beyond the Ghostwood, you must be aware of this fact. Things have only grown more precarious while you’ve been training here. The situation is delicate. Lyons and I are handling it; however, we may require more help.
“I need someone to keep an eye on the daltas here in the castle. Trust is a finite resource; I will only grant it to those worthy of it.” He paused, pulling a book from the shelf beside him. “While I would have preferred you didn’t allow the heirs of two kingdoms to travel into the Diamhairs, you kept them safe. You’ve also done well in assisting the princess—truly above and beyond.”
Ronan shifted in his seat under the general’s focus. He had almost forgotten about Kordislaen’s request to aid Clía.
“You know the daltas better than I, and you will have better access to them. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open, and if you notice anything...peculiar, you tell me. In return, I can promise you a permanent position here at Caisleán, and if there are any further promotions or missions you would like to lead down the line, I will be the first to advocate for you. Do we have an understanding?”
The general promising to assist him in his future, in exchange for Ronan’s help keeping Caisleán safe? There was no debate to be had.
He nodded. “Of course, sir.”
***
WHENRONAN WENT BACK TO HIS ROOM, HIS EYES CAUGHTon the unopened letter from his father that had been sitting on his desk for far too long. Picking it up, he let his thumb run over the raised wax seal. He had wasted time avoiding this, avoiding the guilt. His goals were finally coming to fruition, and if he couldn’t tell his mother, then he wanted to share themwith his father, the only other person who missed her as much as he did.
The two of them were the only family they each had left.
Ronan opened the letter and, once he was done reading, began to write his own.
