Page 24 of The Gilded Cage

Kiva was beginning to realize as much. “Did you say his motherwasthe general? And his fatherwasthe commander?”

Jaren’s lingering humor vanished. “Three years ago, my aunt and uncle took a group of elite soldiers out on a ship to practice a training drill in open waters. Cal was meant to be with them, but he woke up violently ill that morning. His sister, Ashlyn, stayed behind to look after him.” Jaren’s throat bobbed. “That afternoon, a storm came up out of nowhere. It battered the city so badly that we needed months of repairs afterward, but even so, that was on dry land. My aunt and uncle and their soldiers were still out at sea when the storm hit.” He swallowed again. “They never made it back.”

Kiva came to a sudden stop at the edge of the training yard. “Are you saying —”

“Cal lost both his parents that day,” Jaren confirmed, his expression grim. “He’d been groomed since birth to take over as the general once his mother stepped down, with Ash intended to command the armadas once their father did the same, but neither expected the time to come so soon.”

“What happened?” Kiva asked quietly, the sparring noises fading into the background as she focused on Jaren’s sad tale.

“My uncle had a number of highly competent people under him, all of whom were capable of overseeing the armadas in his stead. But the armies ... My aunt was so beloved that her lieutenants struggled to maintain order,” Jaren said, looking off into the distance. “Cal and Ash were both overwhelmed by grief, but we all knew one of them would have to take charge. It should have been Cal — that had been the plan all along, what he’dwantedall along. But not like that.”

Jaren blew out a breath and continued, “He wouldn’t do it.Couldn’tdo it. So Ashlyn did. She’s only a few years older than him, which made her the youngest appointed general in Evalon’s history. But the respect our armies have for her — for both of them — is unparalleled. Men and women would not only fight for her, they’d die for her, knowing she’d give all of herself right there alongside them.” More quietly, Jaren admitted, “We would have been in real trouble back then without her.”

“Would your armies have disbanded?” Kiva asked, wondering how something so strong could break so easily.

“We never would have let it get that bad,” Jaren said. “It was more the timing that was problematic. Three years ago, when all this was happening, was around the time the rebels started to become a real nuisance.”

Nuisance— Kiva nearly snorted at the term, doubting Torell or Zuleeka would appreciate it.

“Their attacks grew bolder, to the point that they became openly hostile, causing damage to villages and loss of life to those who stood against them. They were always careful to avoid the larger cities — they still are — but the smaller townships were easy targets. It was ...” Jaren shook his head. “Well, it was a real mess, honestly. And all the worse because our own forces were disorganized and waiting for a leader to step up. So that’s what Ashlyn did.”

Openly hostile, causing damage to villages and loss of life... Kiva pushed the words away, certain there had to be an explanation. Her brother led the rebels’ forces, and Tor wouldn’t allow senseless violence without good reason.

“Why didn’t Ashlyn use your armies to stop the rebels?” Kiva asked.

“It was too late,” Jaren said. “They’d had too much time to gain a foothold and build their following. Years and years of quietly adding to their numbers and spreading out over Evalon and beyond made it impossible to hunt them all down and end their movement entirely. But Ash did what she could to defend against them, protecting our people from the worst of their attacks. Protecting the rebels, too, from themselves. Even if they didn’t realize. Or didn’t care.”

Kiva wondered what her siblings would think of Jaren’s words, whether they’d offer a defense. But then a familiar sparring pair caught her eye, and her mind was pulled back to Caldon as she watched him and Naari across the training yard, their swords blurring.

“What happened to him?” Kiva asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Jaren answered, just as quietly. “And that’s the problem. He’s doing nothing with his life; he has no purpose, no direction. Before the accident, all his time was spent training and studying to become the next general, but now he won’t even set foot in any of the army camps. And he hasn’t seen his sister in three years — not since she took up her position. Whenever Ashlyn comes to Vallenia, Cal always finds an excuse to be elsewhere. It’s as if he’s avoiding anything that might remind him of their parents.”

“But he seems so ...” Kiva searched for the right word, before settling on, “Carefree.”

Jaren said nothing for a long moment, watching his cousin spar with Naari. “Sometimes the people who act like they don’t care are really the ones who care the most. They feel so much that it overwhelms them, and to keep from falling apart, they hide behind easy smiles and quick laughter, acting like nothing matters. It’s a defense mechanism, a way to protect themselves from the world. A way to keep from getting hurt.”

“It’s unhealthy,” Kiva said, though she was hardly one to judge, given that she’d made an art out of pushing people away in order to protect herself.

“Maybe,” Jaren said, turning and indicating for Kiva to follow again. “But people process emotions in different ways. Until Cal is ready to deal with what happened, all we can do is be there for him, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he can sometimes be.”

“Sometimes?” Kiva murmured, but the insult was only half-hearted. She hated that the rakish prince had lost his parents so young, relating in ways she wished she couldn’t. Equally, she hated that she felt such empathy for him, since it would only make her own mission all the more difficult.

What waswiththese Vallentis princes? Why did they have to pull on her heartstrings so deeply? Why did they have to be so ... so ...

Kiva didn’t allow herself to finish the thought, slamming the door shut on that part of her mind.

“Truly, though,” Jaren said, reclaiming her attention, “I meant what I said earlier — you don’t have to train with him if you don’t want to. You don’t have to train with anyone.”

“What do you think I should do?” Kiva asked.

Jaren thought over his answer as he led her through the rest of the barracks and out onto the gravel path. “If something like last night ever happens again, I’d feel more comfortable knowing you can defend yourself, or that you can at least run away to safety,” he said. “But this isn’t about what I want. What doyouwant?”

That wasn’t something Kiva could answer honestly, not to Jaren. Perhaps not even to herself. So all she said was, “I agree.”

“So you’ll keep training with him?” Jaren asked.

It cost her, but Kiva said, “For now.”

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