Page 42 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

Unfortunately, there is more than just that filling my mind and souring my mood. Everything Eli told me has been burning in the back of my mind, and I’m desperate to ask Finnik if what I learned is true. I know I cannot do this, though, as I remember his reaction to Eli at the last ball.

Perhaps there is another way to convince him to tell me.

“Can you tell me about the land you’re from?” I blurt out, wiping the sweat from my forehead as I watch him drink from his canteen.

His entire body stiffens, and he turns his narrowed eyes on me. “Why would you want to know about that?”

The way he immediately clammed up and became defensive only makes me more curious. What about his homeland is making him react this way? It is not a secret that he is fae, something that would be impossible to hide, yet he’s acting as though I just asked him to run naked through the castle. If I want to get any answers out of him, then I am going to have to act casually about this.

“I’m curious.” Shrugging, I brush back several strands of my hair that escaped from my braid. “How did you end up living here with Havoc and the royals?”

“That is none of your business.” His voice is ice cold, and his stare warns me not to keep pushing as he drops his canteen to the ground.

However, I am not in the mood to be turned down today, so I continue as though he never spoke. “You said Havoc was as close to you as a brother, which means you’ve been here for a long time.”

With a face like thunder, he crosses his arms over his chest, and I know I have pushed him too far. “We are not here to gossip, Thea, but to train. Go through your drills.”

Drills are the last thing I want to do, especially since we have been training for hours now, but I know I will not be getting information if I refuse. Groaning, I shift into start position and begin to run through the routines and sequences he taught me, first with blades and then without. It is just as important for me to know how to fight without a weapon, especially given that the prophecy hints that I’m going to be attacked.

One of the good things about running through these drills is that I am able to lose myself in the routine, my mind quieting and giving me some damn peace as I flow from one movement to another. Despite the physical strain, it is actually helping me restore my control over the darkness inside me.

The longer I am here and unable to complete my purpose, the harder it is to control. As I am continually rejected, it grows and spreads like a poison, being fed by my resentment and frustration. I’m almost afraid of feeding at this point, as I worry it might overcome me and turn me into a monster. Logically, I know I am weakening myself by not feeding, and that would in turn make it harder to control that part of me. However, the logical part of my mind is being overwhelmed by the constant feeling of failure.

“How did it go in the city yesterday?”

Snapped from my thoughts by Finnik’s voice, I fumble with my blade and mess up the drill I was carefully working my way through. Annoyance floods me, as I’ll have to repeat it, yet it slips away when I see Finnik’s expression. He’s frustrated, but more with himself rather than me. Amusement replaces my mood now that he’s the one asking me questions, and I consider making a comment about gossiping after he snapped at me about it.

I think better of it, though, the question dragged out of him as he is unable to hold himself back from speaking. I don’t think that he is particularly interested in the slums, so why is he asking me? Perhaps he was able to sense the direction my thoughts were taking me in.

Not wanting to linger on that particular idea, I shift my thoughts, bringing up images of the devastation I saw last night.

“The slums are…” I trail off with a heavy sigh, remembering the awful sights I saw. The heaviness in my limbs reminds me of their pain with every movement. “The destruction from the flood is terrible. Those poor citizens lost everything.” I drop my gaze to the ground and let my weapons hang at my sides. The only help they were given was purely from volunteers. Where was the assistance from the rest of the city? It is an issue that goes deeper than that, though, because the citizens forced to live in the slums need desperate help, yet there is nothing there for them.

Righteous frustration warms my muscles, replacing the heaviness in my body. Lifting my head, I narrow my eyes on Finnik. “The rest of the slums are just as bad. They need help. Their basic needs are not being met, and most of them have no heating or running water. Why doesn’t the king do anything about it?” Finnik doesn’t make policies or decisions about what is done with the slums, that would be down to the king and his council, yet the fae is as close as I will probably get to anyone who can make a difference.

Finnik frowns, taken aback by the venom in my voice, yet there is resignation in his expression too. He’s accepted that nothing will change. “There isn’t enough space in the city to house everyone—”

Clucking my tongue, I cut him off. “Then expand the city and start reinforcing the buildings. The ones closest to the city are fairly substantial anyway, so it wouldn’t take much.”

“There is too much crime in the slums,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. “They would never accept our help.”

“That is a lazy excuse, and you know it,” I accuse, snarling as my frustration gets the better of me. “If there is too much crime, then do something about it and send the city guard there. Let the citizens know you actually care about them too!”

His eyebrows rise as I get more worked up, and he realises just how much this means to me. Dropping his defensive posture, he takes a step closer and tilts his head to one side. “Thea, I don’t have a say in any of this. I am just telling you what I’m told. Every time I bring it up in court, I get the same response.”

Frustration laces his voice, and his body is tense, making me pay more attention to what he said. He has been speaking to the king about the slums, and the answers he gave me are what he was told when they rejected the motion, meaning he pays enough attention to know what happens to the citizens there. I was wrong, he does care.

This male is a perfect contradiction. He acts like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and his best friend is one of the most heartless males I have ever met, yet he cares about the weakest citizens here. Drathlor is not even his homeland, he’s a foreigner, but he still tries to help. I did not know he had this side to him, and it’s making me look at him in a new light. The royals do not tend to care about the citizens who don’t pay taxes and bring them nothing. In fact, I know many despise those in the slums for being a blight on the city. We have a less extreme but similar situation in my homeland of Trador, and I have heard similar excuses from my king.

“You have been fighting for the slums.” It’s a statement rather than a question, and despite myself, I hear the surprise in my voice. In my defence, it is rare to find anyone who cares enough to do anything to actually help those in need.

Thankfully he doesn’t seem to be offended, and he lets out a long, weary sigh. “Not that it does any good. I get the same answers each time.”

“Are there slums in the city you come from over the mountains?” I ask the question before my brain has a chance to register that this probably isn’t the best thing to ask.

His whole body stiffens, and his expression turns flinty. “That’s enough. Back to training,” he barks, shutting down the conversation.

At least, he tries to. I’m not backing down on this though. I am finally learning more about him and the fae lands beyond the mountain at the same time.

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