The peace broke, and the tempest arrived. “Howdarehe ruin this arrangement? We had been waiting for this betrothal. Ourkingdomwas waiting.” Despite Eithne keeping her voice low, every word was laced with cold anger. Clía knew there was no use in reminding her that the arrangement had never been finalized, that there had only been an unspoken expectation between the families. “It was gods-blessed and planned to perfection. How did you manage to scare him off?”
She flinched. Her mother’s disappointment sank into her bones, and she couldn’t find a defense. The words Domhnall had said to her refused to leave her mouth. But the queen remained silent, waiting for Clía’s explanation.
She said the only thing she could think of.
“I can fix it.”
Queen Eithne turned away from her. “I don’t see how that’s possible. If the prince has decided there will be no betrothal, then there will be no betrothal. No, now we’ll be stuck trying to repair this damage. Appease the Draoi and try to find a better match for you, if that’s even possible.”
“What about Sláine?” King Tighearnán suggested. “I heard she was looking to find a partner.”
The queen’s eyebrows were still knotted in frustration, but she tilted her head, considering. “A stronger tie to Liricnoc might be well received. It might not be enough, but it’s a start.”
They spoke as if Clía wasn’t even there, as if her opinion didn’t matter. And while it was true Clía may have thought herself in love with the new queen of Liricnoc when they were younger, she had long moved past that infatuation. Besides, it wasn’t an alliance with Liricnoc that her parents had always sought. It wouldn’t win the favor of the Draoi, not like securing their bond with Scáilca.
“What if I can change his mind?” Clía insisted.
“How would you expect to do that?” her father asked.
“I’ll go to Caisleán Cósta.”
Her mother turned to Clía, a sharp look on her face. “Why would that change his mind?”
“He wants a warrior queen. How else can I prove that I’m smart enough and strong enough to bear that mantle? That I’m someone who can lead his kingdom during war?”
Caisleán Cósta was almost as old as Inismian itself. Founded before the first high king, it was one of the five sacred institutions run by the Draoi. Its doors were open to those who wanted tofollow Ríoghain’s path into battle and rewarded them with a chance to earn the title of curadh.
“You wish totrainat Caisleán?” Queen Eithne scoffed.
Clía bristled under her scrutiny. “Ó Connor trained there.”
“That was decades ago, and he had already proved himself in combat before receiving his invitation.” The queen’s dark eyes fell on Clía. “You would be training under General Kordislaen. That man is as strong as a sídhe, and equally as cruel. Scáilca credits him with ending the first wave of Ionróiran raids thirty years ago, when he was barely older than you. Less than a quarter of his students last the full year of training. Do you think you’ll be an exception? Become a champion of Ríoghain? The only thing I see you doing at Caisleán Cósta is embarrassing yourself.”
“Your lack of belief in me is noted,” Clía said tightly, her mother’s doubts weaving their way into her, making a home beside Domhnall’s dismissal. “But this is about more than just me. If the prince of Scáilca thinks I’m weak, imagine what our own citizens think. Our allies. Ourenemies. We need to appear strong, and having the princess of Álainndore train at Caisleán, become a curadh—it will do wonders for our reputation. I understand you have your doubts in my abilities, but at least allow me to try.”
“This discussion is pointless. We already declined your invitation when it arrived last year; I don’t see General Kordislaen forgiving that slight,” Queen Eithne replied. The academy allowed any Inismian of noble blood entrance to study, if they so chose. But they did not extend the invitation twice.
Clía didn’t stop. “Then we’ll convince him. You are a queenand he is a general; Scáilcan or not, hewilldefer to you. Perhaps Ó Connor can help you change his mind.”
Her father spoke up in an effort to maintain peace. “It’s not a bad idea, darling. But you needn’t worry yourself over the state of the kingdom.”
“Don’t I? I’ll be inheriting it one day. Eventually, this kingdom will be in my hands, without you two or Ó Connor to guide me. If others deem me incapable of ruling now, how do you suspect my reign will go?”
“Fine,” her mother declared abruptly. “We’ll reach out to the general and inquire about your invitation, but don’t think we’re doing this lightly. You believe you’re ready for the responsibilities of the kingdom, then hear this: you are our sole heir, and we will be sending you away when war is nearing our borders. You say you’re doing this for Álainndore, but all I see is a young girl naively chasing a boy who doesn’t want her.” Clía’s heart lurched at her words. “Tread carefully, daughter.”
***
THE EXPECTATIONS OF HER PARENTS FOLLOWEDCLÍAthroughout the following day. While her mother said they would try to win over Kordislaen, Clía didn’t trust the queen to do so in a timely manner. She would need to make arrangements of her own.
She went to Ó Connor first.
“No need to worry,” he said after she explained the situation. “I’ve known General Kordislaen for years. Send a letter declaring your interest, and I will handle the rest. However, I must ask, are you sure in this decision?”
“Of course I am.”
“Caisleán Cósta is a different beast than an Álainndoran ballroom. I know you’re capable, but it’ll be an adjustment. If only your parents had let me give you the basic training I wanted to when you were younger. They found it unnecessary, along with my other suggestions,” he said, an uncharacteristic flash of bitterness crossing his face.
Clía rolled her eyes at him fondly. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
