Page 7 of Fear the Flames
We didn’t always have running water here; most places on the continent have it, but for a makeshift kingdom like Aestilian? It’s a rarity. The tavern we went to last night doesn’t have running water, and neither do most of the villages in the Sweven Forest. You can always tell by the smell of the crowds. Nessa, one of the guards that helped me escape from Imirath, led the project to implement running water in Aestilian. She’s as skilled with a hammer and blueprints as she is with a sword. It took years to acquire the proper materials. But since then, it’s been a blissful five years of running water. No more heating buckets above a fire or bathing once a week.
I leave the bathroom and walk over to my nightstand to grab the dead flowers from a vase and toss them in the bin, making a mental note to replace them. It’s a simple room, but it’s mine. I never had things of my own before coming to Aestilian, let alone an actual room. I had a cell with no windows. I leave my curtains open on bad nights, when the memories choke my brain.
Aside from my bed, dresser, and cupboard—the only piece of furniture I have is a big plush dark brown chair by the fireplace, accompanied by a small table and footrest. A green knit blanket rests in the middle of it. Books are piled in stacks against the wall, mostly romance, even though I’ll never tell anyone. The only person that knows is Finnian, and that’s only because he looked over my shoulder when he said I looked like I wanted to physically eat my book during a…particular chapter.
Still in my sweater and slippers, I head out of my room and toward the kitchen. I pass Finnian’s closed door. He hates mornings with a passion, so I usually let him sleep in unless we need to be somewhere. I’m fine after I have my coffee, but before coffee, I’m a grouchy goblin. I’m an unapologetic caffeine fiend.
Our housekeeper, Althea, must have been here already because there’s a steaming cup of coffee with two pieces of toast smothered in butter and raspberry jam waiting for me. There’s a plate with an egg and cheese omelet and a much darker cup of coffee across from me. I’ll wake Finnian before his breakfast gets cold. I take a seat and prop my feet up on the chair across from me, taking the mug into my hands and inhaling the delectable scent. The hint of vanilla dances on my tongue while I take a big sip. I always take my coffee with a hint of vanilla; without it, something just feels missing.
The sunlight passes through the windows and warms my cheeks as I munch on my toast. When I first came to Aestilian, before it was even Aestilian, I lived here with Ailliard and the four guards that helped me escape Imirath—Nessa, Esmeralla, Lycus, and Zander. They’ve all taken up quarters in the guard house, but Finnian and I chose to stay here. I’m welcome to stay in the guard house if I want to, but I need a break from social interactions by the end of most days. This place is also the first and only home I’ve ever had, so I suppose I’m attached. I glance over to the wall next to the fireplace where Finnian and I kept track of how much we’ve grown over the years.
I wish I could say I feel content, but I don’t. The wave of uneasiness that washed over me last night hasn’t washed away. I’m submerged, drowning in it. I rub my hand on the back of my neck and lean my head against the chair. The urge to make a move is eating me alive. Nobody has found Aestilian yet. A few assassins found me when I traveled outside of the borders, but they never made it back to Imirath to inform my father that I was alive because they no longer are. But just because nobody has found this place yet doesn’t mean they never will. We’re a young kingdom, the people that have made lives here are bound to have children, and their children may want to leave, and what then? I tell them no? Absolutely not. I refuse to be someone’s jailer. I never want to be the person that makes others forget they’re the forger of their own fate.
A deep groan that resembles a mother bear talking to her cubs sounds from down the hall, pulling me from my thoughts. I laugh into my cup as a sleep-stricken Finnian, with curls jutting in all directions and puffy eyes, trudges into the room. I remove my feet from the chair across from me just before he flings himself into it.
“Go back into hibernation, papa bear,” I joke before taking another sip of coffee.
“I didn’t want you to talk to Ailliard without me,” he mutters while bringing his mug to his lips and digging his fork into his omelet.
I shrug, “I don’t plan on talking to him today. The coffee is strong, so a patrol probably did a raid while we were gone. He’ll have enough work sorting through the goods and adding them into the supplies ledger.”
He pins me with sleepy eyes, “Do you really think this is something you should keep from him?”
“I’m not,” I raise my palms in the air. “I just want to soak it in before I tell him. It still doesn’t feel real.” My breakfast threatens to make a second appearance as the lies twist my stomach. I hate lying to him. I hardly ever do it, not even little white lies. I don’t have a problem with lying to anyone else. In fact, I’m fluent in it when I need to be. But Finnian is different. He’s my second, so lying to him is also counterproductive, along with it just being wrong.
The real reason I don’t want to talk to Ailliard today is because he’ll be on higher alert if I tell him Vareveth is looking for me. He’ll want to send out more soldiers to the border, which will make sneaking around harder, and I need to get to that meeting tonight. I need to leave slightly past midday to make it to the clearing before…Cayden Veles. It feels strange to put a name to the shadowed face in my mind. He seemed more a figment of darkness than an actual man.
I rest my hands on my lower abdomen and suck in a sharp breath, which draws Finnian’s sleepy eyes in my direction. His brows shoot up, and he’s instantly more awake, “Period cramps?”
“Mhmm.” I press my lips together and give my best pained expression. Gods, I hate doing this, but it’s for his protection. Finnian knows I have horrible menstrual pain. Even with the tonic I take on the first of every month to stop ovulation, it’s still awful. I don’t get it every month, but that doesn’t lessen the pain when I do. Sometimes it’s so bad I can’t even walk on the first day without limping. My body flips from chills, to a cold sweat, to actually sweating, all accompanied by a splitting migraine and severe nausea.
His eyes fill with concern. “Do you need my help getting upstairs?” I make a mental note to buy him something from a bakery when all of this is over, or maybe new arrows.
“I’ll be okay.” I manage a small smile while channeling my inner emotional turmoil to present itself as physical pain. “I think I’m just going to stay in my room for the rest of the day. Do you have plans?”
He shakes his head, “I was going to head down to the tavern later, but I can stay if you want me here.”
“No!” I shoot out, probably too quickly. “I’ve been dealing with this for years. Have fun tonight. Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to sleep and read,” I add to cover up my outburst.
“Alright,” he says after a few moments, regarding me with suspicious eyes. It’s better if he’s not here when I’m gone. “Just tell me if you need anything,”
“I will.”
“No, you won’t.” His lips pinch in the corner. I can’t help it; I just don’t want to be a burden.
“Okay, fine. But I promise I’ll be perfectly content to sit in my chair and read by the fire,” I say while finishing off my coffee and staying at the table until he’s done with his breakfast.
ChapterFive
The sun sets behind me as I break through the mist of the Seren Mountains, painting the sky in an orange and pink hue. After Finnian finished his breakfast, I fake hobbled to my room andtechnicallyread a chapter from one of my books, so I didn’t completely lie to him. I didn’t absorb a single word, but the effort was there.
My horse continues at a steady pace as we make our way down the steep cliffside. There’s no sense in pushing the pace only to slide off the side of the mountain. I left early enough to get there before Commander Veles. We make it to somewhat flat ground and pass the place along the Caleum River where Finnian and I stopped last night. My boot nudges my horse in the side, urging him to move faster. This horse is younger than the horse I rode last night and navigates the terrain with grace. We take off in a sprint and keep this pace until we near the edge of the Terrwyn, thankfully with no bloody encounters. I cut my horse’s path to the left and ride along the Fintan River. The forest floor is still muddy from the storm last night, but the treetops are dense, so the forest is always some degree of damp.
The sun is shining the last of its rays by the time I spy the crisp blue water of Lake Neera through the trees. I slow my horse and ease my way into the clearing while unsheathing the sword from my belt. I’m wearing another set of black leathers with silver armored accents, thigh and arm guards, and a black cloak secured around my neck. Ten knives are strapped around my thighs, as they usually are, and I left my facemask at home.
I wait by the edge of the clearing, listening for any signs of noise—a twig crunching, leaves rustling, but nothing other than the steady flow of the Fintan drifts my way. My eyes scan the edges of the clearing, but once again, I don’t see any signs of the commander.
I slide off the back of the midnight black colt and walk him behind a moss-covered boulder a few feet away from the clearing, close to a well-covered cave opening. If there’s an ambush, I can take my horse and hide in there. There are symbols above the opening dedicated to the Goddess of Water, so I know none of the forest beasts will hide in there. They never nest anywhere godly symbols are engraved—it’s one of the only reasons that make me question if maybe I should say a few extra prayers here and there.
