I stared at him for too long. Something in my chest twisted, warm and panicky.
He looked so… human… like that. Not the lethal protector from the trial. Not the fierce commander I saw in flashes. Just a man. A beautiful, exhausted man who had worked all night for my family and now slept in a space far too small for someone who used to be royalty.
I finally admitted to myself in that moment that I felt something more for Kaelric, something beyond friendship.
“I thought he wanted to sleep outside?” I said, lowering my voice, but even as I said it, I got my answer. My gaze flicked to the open front door,cool, moist air coming in after a fresh rain. The porch was flooded as it usually was when it rained.
Elia handed a plate to Caro, who practically inhaled it.
“I brought six of my hens and one rooster with me from Fenmyr,” she said, her voice quiet so as not to wake him. “I’ll leave them behind so you can have eggs every morning. You’ll have to draw straws for who gets one. But one of them has gone broody, so you’ll have chicks soon.”
I was in shock. Chickens, eggs, it was a huge expense. Egg-laying chickens went for big coin around here. Even the Elites wanted them.
I turned back to Elia, lowering my voice. “Six chickens? You don’t have to do that. What about your family?”
She shrugged. “We’re doing fine. Food isn’t our problem. I’m a farmer’s daughter. And I only have two children. Easy to feed.”
I blinked, taken aback. “Then… what is your problem back home?”
Her smile faded, replaced by something quieter, tighter. “War. Power. Safety. Pride.” She turned the eggs again. “Things that can’t be foraged in the woods.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I said nothing.
Behind us, tiny footsteps pattered across the floor.
“Are you going back home today, now that Brynn is back and Mama’s better?” six-year-old Isla asked, her round eyes peeking up at Elia.
Elia crouched down, tucking a braid behind my little sister’s ear. “I am. But I’ll miss you dearly.”
Isla’s lip quivered. “Who will tell us stories?”
Elia looked up at me, brows lifted in hope. Storytelling wasn’t exactly my thing.
“Mama will,” I said, a little too quickly.
“Yes, I will,” came a voice from behind me, stronger than it had been in days.
“Mama!” the children squealed.
They barreled into her so hard she nearly toppled over. She laughed and hugged them close, tears springing in her eyes. The sound of their joy filled the tiny home, and Kaelric shot upright on the couch, instantly alert, eyes scanning the room for danger. His gaze found me, then slid to Valkaryn at my hip. Only when he seemed satisfied did his shoulders drop.
I watched him watching me.
Was it me he was protecting? Or the blade? Was it only because I was Valkaryn’s owner?
‘I don’t need a guard. And you do not own me,’Valkaryn’s voice whispered in my head.
‘Are you reading my thoughts? Because that’s not cool.’
If a sword could smirk, I felt her doing it.
‘Kaelric doesn’t need to work a night shift after surviving a death trial just to earn a shot at wielding me. He did that to impress you.’
I blinked at that, surprised by how much I wanted it to be true. How much I wanted Kaelric to have done those things because he cared about me.
But I didn’t let my thoughts linger because?—
“We should start training,” Kaelric said as he crossed the room, pulling his long hair into a bun at the nape of his neck. “The next trial is in six days, and you’re not ready.”
