I was honored to be fighting this war with every single one of them.
“Is there some water nearby?” Kiera asked, glancing at me as she rose to her feet. “That isn’t crawling with soldiers, of course.”
Maz smirked at me. “I believe Aiden knows the perfect spot.”
I resisted glaring at him. We’d passed a small stream earlier that I told Maz I needed to come back to.
I stood. “I’ll show you.”
Kiera nodded and grabbed everyone’s water canteens.
“Bring us back a few, yeah?” Maz called to our backs as we walked into the forest.
“A few what?” Kiera asked, her light footsteps crackling behind me.
“You’ll see.” I reached back and slid a few of the canteens’ straps from her shoulder onto mine.
My eyes grew accustomed to the dark, slivers of moonlight cutting through the tree canopy. In the distance, flecks of golden light danced through the thick bushes.
“Fireflies?” Kiera whispered. “Twaryn truly only knows one season.”
My chest warmed, remembering the last time we’d been in the woods surrounded by fireflies.
The melodious sound of a stream reached my ears before we stepped into a wide clearing. Several large trees dipped their roots into the shallow water. Their stiff, shiny leaves hid the clusters of fruit I sought.
Kiera stood next to me. “It’s so lovely. I can see why you’d want to live out your days here.”
I glanced sharply at her. “Why do you think I’d want to do that?”
Kiera shrugged, not looking at me. “Something Melaena said once. And you always talked about this place with such reverence. Like you yearned for the peace you found here.”
Something large and thorny took up residence in my chest. “I do yearn for peace, but I’m not sure where—or even if—I’ll ever have it.”
“There will be peace,” Kiera said, finally gazing up at me. “Once there’s nothing left to fight for.”
I cupped the back of her head in my palm, then slowly slid her braid between my fingers. “There will always be something to fight for.”
Kiera’s throat tightened as if she’d swallowed hard. “Why did you tell Helene who you are?”
I frowned at the unexpected question. I pondered my answer as I walked to the stream. Kiera kneeled by the water and filled her canteens. She didn’t ask again, as if she understood I needed a moment.
“I still don’t want to be king,” I said carefully. “But I’m tired of hiding who I am. Renwell tried to bury me—and my family—with more lies, and I just wanted someone else to know the truth. The truth Helene’s husband waited and worked for.”
Kiera sat back on her heels. “So many people want you to be king. My mother did, too.” She drank from a canteen, then handed it to me. “Did you know my brother never had the desire to be king, either?”
I frowned and took a sip of fresh, cold water. Why had Brielle never mentioned that?
“I never understood it,” Kiera continued. “As king, you would have all the power. Much more than I ever had as a princess. It was one of the reasons I was fine giving up my crown. I wanted to be High Enforcer instead. Someone with real power.”
I sat in the thick grass next to her and took another long swallow of water. “And what if you were queen?”
Kiera stiffened.
It was like I’d struck a match. I let the question burn and burn between us, its implications billowing like smoke in a breeze. Then I doused it with one breath.
“If you had inherited the throne instead of your brother,” I added.
Kiera’s shoulders sagged. With relief? Her voice was still tight when she replied, “My father would never have allowed that, even if Everett put up a fight. I was never meant to rule. I never wanted to either.”
