Page 72 of The Gilded Cage

Jaren nodded. “It’s in his blood.” His free hand smoothed Flox’s ears as he shared, “There’s been more bad days than good lately. That’s why you didn’t meet him before tonight — he’s been in bed all week.”

Softly, Kiva asked, “How long does he have?”

“We don’t know,” Jaren admitted, just as softly. “It could be years, but most likely months. Possibly weeks.”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

Shaking his head, Jaren said, “We’ve tried everything. Now we just keep him as comfortable as possible.”

Seeing the raw pain on his face, Kiva erased the last of the distance between them, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his stomach, being careful not to dislodge Flox. She knew it wasn’t wise, that she should keep her distance, physically and emotionally.

She knew — but she didn’t care.

Not when Jaren was upset.

Not when he needed her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

In response, he placed a soft kiss on her temple.

Silence fell between them, long enough for Kiva to decide it was time to return to her room. But just as she was about to do so, her eyes drifted shut and she descended into sleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When Kiva woke the next morning, she was in her bed, the blankets snug around her. She cast her mind back and realized Jaren must have carried her to her room and tucked her into bed.

A mortified groan left her, but then a hard knock on her door had her shooting upward, with Caldon calling through the wood a moment later to say it was time for training. The last thing she wanted to do that morning was work on her fitness — not when she was so anxious to find Nanna Delora — but knowing the prince would hunt her down if she tried to skip their session, Kiva hurried to change into her training clothes.

“I hate dawn,” she said upon meeting him in her sitting room.

“Good morning to you too, Sunshine,” Caldon returned, tweaking her nose.

She pulled a face and followed him outside, whinging all the way. As if to punish her sour attitude, he made her do double the amount of box steps and added an extra two running laps, leaving her in agony but also feeling proud of herself when she only vomited once.

“I think I’m getting better at this,” Kiva panted after they finished their final lap.

“We’re not done yet, Sweet Cheeks,” Caldon said, his breathing perfectly steady.

Kiva was about to object, partly because she was exhausted, and partly because she wanted to get to Blackwater Bog, find her grandmother, and return to the palace before anyone realized she’d been gone.

But then Caldon revealed two wooden swords, and her excitement at holding a weapon, childproof or not, made her swallow her complaint.

“You’re not ready for real steel,” the prince told her, “but we can start practicing some basic forms, getting you used to the feel of it in your hands and building on your core strength.”

Kiva tossed the blade from hand to hand. “It’s a bit light, isn’t it?”

Mirth filled Caldon’s expression. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when we finish.”

Kiva was naively confident when he guided her through some introductory moves, reminding her to retain the correct posture he’d been drilling into her for days. He kept his own wooden blade sheathed, making her slice into the air, her abdominal muscles squeezing as she turned her hips at his command, thrusting and parrying with snail speed.

“It’s all about control, about balance,” Caldon told her. “With a heckuva lot of repetition.”

Within minutes, Kiva’s muscles were burning— allof them. At any one time, she had to be in complete control of her body, while still listening carefully to Caldon’s merciless corrections: “Look up!” “Back straight!” “Watch your feet!” “Slow down!” “Tighten your core!”

Toward the end, he ordered her to speed up, forcing her into a set of quick steps, lunges, and constant footwork that demanded perfect balance and concentration. When he finally said she could stop, she wasn’t only physically shattered, but mentally, too.

“That wasn’t terrible,” Caldon said, looking down at Kiva, who had collapsed spread-eagled on the ground. “But we have a lot of work to do.”

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