Page 20 of The Gilded Cage

The next morning, Kiva was rudely awakened.Twice.

The first was when Tipp burst into her room, his panic only easing upon seeing she was all right. Kiva murmured something comforting before tugging him onto her bed and telling him to go back to sleep.

Her next awakening was much less pleasant.

“Wakey, wakey, Sunshine,” Caldon’s voice came from beside her ear.

“Go ’way,” she mumbled sleepily.

“No can do, Sweet Cheeks. It’s time to get you fighting fit.”

He prodded her shoulder, and Kiva swatted at him. As her consciousness returned, she began to recall what he’d said before the poppymilk had kicked in hours ago, something about her working with him in the training yard.

Her eyes shot open to see his smirking face.

“I didn’t agree to anything,” she said.

“I didn’t give you a choice.”

And then he was yanking her out of bed and away from the still-snoring Tipp, who was hugging one of Kiva’s pillows, oblivious to everything around him.

“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed,” Caldon said. “If I have to come back in, I won’t knock first. Feel free not to have any clothes on.”

Kiva tried to hit him with a cushion, but he ducked out of the way, laughing as he left her room.

As much as she wanted to go back to sleep, Kiva decided not to risk the obnoxious prince storming in to dress her himself. Instead, she stumbled to her wardrobe, her vision limited because dawn was barely peeking through her balcony overlooking the Serin River.

Groaning at the early hour, Kiva tried to be grateful that her head, at least, was no longer pounding, the deep slumber having done her a world of good.

She quickly rifled through her clothes, some having been loaned by Princess Mirryn at the winter palace, and more having been waiting upon her arrival in Vallenia. It had been strange at first, wearing anything other than her gray prison tunic. For too long she’d been denied the luxury of choosing her own clothes; even after six weeks of doing so, she still cherished such freedom. But with Caldon’s warning ringing in her ears, she didn’t dally, grabbing a pair of leggings and a loose beige sweater, figuring the basic outfit would serve her best.

Hurrying to her private bathroom — another luxury, particularly the hot running water — she went about her business, admiring the gold and pearl tones of the room. Her bedroom had the same color scheme, as did the rest of the palace, all of it elegant, classy, and peaceful.

After splashing water onto her face, Kiva grabbed a pair of boots and left her bedroom, moving into the sitting room at the center of her suite. The space was simple but comfortable, with large windows looking out at the river, a door opposite her room leading straight into Tipp’s bedroom, and another door opening into the palace hallway.

“That was six minutes,” Caldon drawled from the couch. “I’m adding a minute to your training.”

“About this ‘training’ —” Kiva started.

“Nope,” Caldon interrupted, jumping up and shooing her toward the door. “It’s already decided. I get you first thing every morning, rain, hail, or shine. No arguments.”

While Kiva had no desire to partake in whatever he had planned, she also knew it was something she shouldn’t miss, especially since she was meant to be gathering information. Zuleeka and Torell would have her hide if they learned she’d let this opportunity pass her by. Zuleeka, especially.

The palace was large enough that it took Kiva and Caldon some time to reach the ground floor, after which they stepped outside and kept a brisk pace to ward off the cool morning air. Caldon hummed merrily under his breath as they approached the barracks, an impressive compound with sleeping quarters for the guards, a mess hall, a small infirmary, a stable, an armory, and even a weapons forge complete with on-site blacksmith. At the very center stood the expansive training yard, the grassy area sweeping out beyond the barracks and deeper into the palace grounds.

As they approached the training yard, Kiva marveled at how many people were already out practicing unarmed combat, swordplay, archery, dagger throwing, and countless other lethal practices.

Naari was, for once, not watching Jaren like a hawk, and instead was shooting arrows into targets an impossible distance away, one after the other, reloading her bow so fast that her hands were a blur.

Jaren was also in the yard, his sweat-slicked shirt indicating he’d been there for some time. Only six weeks earlier, he’d barely been able tomove,let alone spar with anyone, but their extended stay at the winter palace had healed all the injuries he’d sustained inside the prison. His quick, powerful movements showed just how swiftly he’d returned to health, with him currently facing off in a robust clash of swords against the formidable Captain Veris.

Kiva couldn’t keep her eyes off the crown prince. There was just something so compelling about him, something so addictive about watching the way he moved, the graceful, strong lines of his body, the intense focus, the perfect —

“You’ve got a little drool happening. Right there.”

Kiva shoved Caldon’s hand away and scowled at him. Attempting to cover her embarrassment, she grumbled, “Why are so many people up at this ungodly hour?”

“This may come as a shock, but there’s an entire world of people who start their day before eight a.m.,” Caldon commented dryly. Nudging her forward, he added, “I think it’s best if we keep a certain someone out of your direct line of sight, or we’ll never get anything done.”

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