Page 8 of Fire and Fate
"Give me all the things you stole from my kitchen and let me pack them properly."
I laugh despite myself, relief and affection flooding my chest. I hand over my bag with the raspberry desserts, and the maid hurries forward to give her the bread and cheese as well. The Alpha takes them all and moves to the preparation table, already assessing what’s there.
"I am going to add a few other things you might need along your journey as well," she says without looking up, already repacking everything into a more suitable traveling bag.
My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"
Now she does look up, a mixture of sadness and understanding in her expression. "You forget that I know you, Princess. You are smart and cunning, but you are also just like your mother. This much food will last you at least three days, maybe four if you ration between three or four people. Which means you do not plan on stopping at the edge to see the warriors off, do you? You plan on joining them."
For a moment, I consider lying. But what would be the point? She has already seen through me, and I owe her more than deception. "You cannot say anything. Not until I am well on my way. I am done waiting for everyone else to be my savior."
The Alpha’s hands still for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice is much quieter and laced with worry. "And what happens when you get hurt or worse, when you die out there? Your kingdom needs you, Princess."
The words sting, even though I know she means them with love. "This is not my kingdom. It is my father's. It has grown into something I do not recognize anymore."
"Princess—"
"Solace said that too, you know." I move closer to the table, watching her work. "She said I should be respectful of my duties to my kingdom. But why should I when they do not even respect me? I am just supposed to mate with whoever comes back with a dragon's head? Sure, they will have a fighter's spirit or beginner's luck, but what gives them the right to rule Valoria? What have they done to earn it besides survive a journey that has killed dozens of others? How does that qualify them to make decisions that will affect thousands of lives?"
Clarissa lets out a frustrated sigh, continuing to work as she adds dried fruits, strips of preserved meat, a small pouch of herbs that can be used for cooking or medicine, and a tin of the honey cakes I loved as a child. She works in silence for several minutes, before finally, tying the bag closed and handing it to me.
Our eyes meet, tears glistening in hers. "Princess, I do not have any answers for you. I wish I did. I very well might not be here when you get back if your father asks who helped aid your way. But I admire your tenacity, your refusal to simply accept the fate others have decided for you. Please be safe out there. Promise me that you will turn back if it becomes too much. I know you are strong, but even you must concede sometimes. Even the bravest warriors know when to retreat and fight another day."
I take the bag and pull her into a tight embrace, something that would scandalize the other nobles if they saw a princess hugging the staff so familiarly. But she is not just staff. She is family in all the ways that matter. "I promise. I will be careful, and I will come back. I have to. Someone needs to fix what my father has broken."
She pulls back and cups my face in her work-worn hands. "Your mother would be so proud of you. And so terrified. Just as I am."
I squeeze her hands once more, then tighten my grip on the bag and hurry toward the door. I pause at the threshold and look back at her. "Thank you. For everything. For always seeing me, not just the princess everyone expects me to be."
"Go," she says, waving me away even as she wipes at her eyes. "Before someone else discovers what you are up to and tries to stop you. I will make sure the other staff keep quiet until you are gone."
I slip out into the corridor and make my way through the castle with practiced stealth, only stopping by my room to gather thesecond bag I have prepared. I have spent years sneaking through these halls, learning which floorboards creak and which staff are likely to be where at what times. It serves me well now as I navigate my way to the main courtyard where the procession will be departing.
The sky is lightening to a soft gray, the sun not yet visible over the eastern walls but painting the clouds with hints of pink and gold. The courtyard is already bustling with activity. Horses stamp around as their warriors clad in armor check their weapons, their faces set with determination or fear or some combination of both. Staff rushes about with last-minute supplies, nobles gathering in small clusters to see off the latest group of would-be heroes.
It's chaos as always, my carriage sitting a few steps from the entrance. It is impossible to miss, painted in the deep green and gold of the royal house, polished to a shine that nearly acts as a mirror. My two horses stand in their harnesses, a matched pair of chestnuts that I have ridden since they were foals. They know me, recognize my scent, one of them tossing her head and neighing softly as I approach.
This plan is reckless, stupid even, but it’s my only chance.
I told Solace that I would speak with my father about embarking on the next adventure with the other Alpha or Alphas stupid enough to go. But waking up, I knew my father would never entertain that conversation. He would laugh me out of the courtroom or merely dismiss my pleas. Even with my mother’s fighting skills and her dagger sheathed in the first layer of my dress, my father would never allow me to leave the confines of Valoria.
I let out a small sigh, assuming a more relaxed demeanor as I stop just shy of my carriage, inches away from my father’s horse. He is dressed in his formal robes, deep purple edged with gold thread, his crown sitting heavily on his graying hair. He looksolder than he did even a few months ago, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper, his shoulders carrying a weight that seems to grow with each passing day.
The excitement of the feast from last night is gone, replaced with a seriousness meant for sending soldiers off to what he considers war. He turns when he hears my footsteps, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "Change of heart, Princess Kaia?"
I force myself to smile, projecting the reserved Omega princess he wants to see. It pains me that I am notjustKaia to him or ‘sweetheart’ like I used to be. When Mom was alive, I was more than just a title, but that will all change when I come back with the supposed riches my father is after. "I will get nowhere if I fight this, Father. I should embrace it, should I not? Show my support for those brave enough to risk their lives for my hand?"
Something flickers across his face, too quick for me to identify. Pleasure, perhaps, that I am finally behaving as he has always wanted. Or maybe suspicion, wondering what has prompted this sudden shift in my behavior. But he does not question it. He simply nods, accepting my words at face value because he wants to believe them.
"A wise decision," he says, approval in his voice that makes my skin crawl. "It is time you started taking your responsibilities seriously. These warriors deserve to know that their future queen supports their quest."
I turn to wave at all the warriors that are being sent off, several of them bowing or offering a salute. A wave of emotion flows through me, greed, anger, excitement, fear… all of it tiring and unnecessary. They see the prize they are fighting for, the Omega they hope to win. They do not see me as a person with thoughts and feelings and ambitions of my own. I am simply an object to be claimed, a trophy to be displayed alongside the dragon's head they hope to bring back.
The knowledge sits bitter on my tongue, but I keep my expression as pleasant as I can despite the circumstances.
"Who do you think might win?" I ask my father, playing the part of the interested daughter.
He considers the question, his eyes scanning the assembled warriors with the calculating gaze of someone assessing livestock. "Only time will tell. But those two there, they have the best odds."
