Page 19 of The Gilded Cage

“I was so worried,” he whispered.

Kiva knew she should push him away, but try as she might, she simply couldn’t do it. Instead, she returned his embrace, wishing she felt repulsed or disgusted — anything other than protected and cherished.

“I’m all right,” she said quietly.

He leaned back enough to see her face, his gaze landing on her head wound, his expression tightening.

“It’s just a little bump,” she said quickly. “I can barely feel it.”

Caldon snorted, drawing Jaren’s eyes, and shared with brutal honesty, “It’s actually a concussion bad enough to make her pass out, puke her guts up, and struggle to stand on her own, with even the dimmest of lights causing her acute agony.” The prince shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “But, sure,it’s just a little bump.”

At the tension refilling Jaren’s body, Kiva hissed at Caldon, “Would you shut up? You’re not helping.”

Amusement flittered across Caldon’s face, but it turned into a wince when Rhess dabbed his wound with silverseed oil, a bitter antiseptic smell flooding the room.

“What happened to you?” Jaren asked his cousin.

With a sly look at Kiva, Caldon answered, “Your girlfriend stabbed me.”

Kiva flushed as everyone turned to her — the guards, the royals, and the healer. “It was an accident,” she said, ignoring the girlfriend remark entirely. Frowning at Caldon, she warned, “But at this rate, the next time won’t be.”

The cocky prince grinned widely, and Jaren’s chuckle sounded in Kiva’s ear, prompting her to turn back and see the humor lighting his eyes.

Distance — she needed to put some distance between them. It was the only way she’d survive all that was coming.

Clearing her throat and stepping out of his arms, Kiva glanced over at the new arrivals. Naari was there, showing vivid relief at seeing Kiva safe. Behind her stood a handful of Royal Guards and Captain Veris, the latter of whom Kiva had been introduced to during her first Trial at Zalindov, though in reality she’d met him ten years earlier. It was hard for her to look at him now, part of her fearing he might suddenly recognize her, and the other part unable to repress the memories of that horrific winter’s night when her life had changed forever.

“Well,” the queen said loudly, smiling benevolently at the guards. “What an evening we’ve all had. Thank you for your help in searching for our guest — we’re all very grateful.”

Her dismissal was kind but clear. In response, Veris gave a respectful dip of his head and ushered his troops back out the door. No doubt he would receive a full report later, but Kiva was thankful the queen was limiting her own involvement in that.

With the guards gone, Jaren, Naari, and Ariana waited for Rhessinda to leave before asking any questions. Sensing their impatience, the healer finished her sutures quickly and covered Caldon’s wound with a bandage, declaring her work done. On her way out of the room, she handed Kiva a small vial of poppymilk, warning her to awaken every few hours during the night and send for help if needed.

Alone with the royals and Naari — and the still-sleeping Tipp — Kiva had little choice but to share the events of her night, starting with how she’d been knocked unconscious in the middle of the festival crowd, leaving out the middle part with her siblings, and ending with Caldon’s rescue, the prince chiming in with his own details.

When she was done, her audience began debating what the rebels had sought to achieve with their abduction. Caldon offered some interesting — and incorrect — theories, stating that it might not have beenjustrebels and claiming to be concerned by the presence of Mirravens during the final attack. Jaren then reminded him that the rebels were recruiting from other kingdoms, but Caldon remained unconvinced, looking to Kiva as if hoping she would jump in and agree with him. But all she could do was shrug and say that she’d been locked away for a decade, so she knew nothing about how the rebels operated.

It wasn’t even a lie.

As their conversation continued, Kiva knew Zuleeka and Torell would want to hear thorough details, but the last few hours were swiftly catching up to her enough that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

The next thing she knew, gentle fingers were tracing her cheekbone, lulling her from her doze. She blinked awake to find Jaren crouching beside where she’d unconsciously curled up on the couch.

“Time for bed,” he whispered.

Kiva didn’t push him away when he helped her up to her feet, nor did she argue when he handed her the vial of poppymilk. She swallowed it in one go, knowing she’d have just enough time to return to the eastern side of the palace and fall into bed before it took effect.

“We’ll see each other again soon,” Queen Ariana told Kiva quietly, kissing her on the cheek.

Kiva was so groggy that she didn’t panic at the show of affection from her sworn enemy, instead mumbling, “Good night,” and watching blearily as Jaren gathered Tipp into his arms.

“Come on, Sunshine, let’s get you to your room before one of us has to carry you across the river,” Caldon said, nudging Kiva toward the door.

Barely able to walk in a straight line, Kiva paid little attention to what Caldon continued saying as he led the way through the palace halls toward the private bridge. But she did wake up just enough to hear him state, “And just in case you missed it earlier, I’m dragging you to the training yard at dawn to work on your nonexistent fighting skills. Next time you hold a blade, I don’t plan on becoming collateral damage.”

Anything he said after that was lost as the poppymilk took hold, the rest of the walk a blur, until Kiva finally collapsed onto her bed fully clothed and fell instantly back to sleep.

CHAPTER SIX

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