Page 47 of Kingdom of Betrayal and Unknown

“I know,” I finally respond. “I know I could have died, but I didn’t.”

I don’t want to think about what happened last night and how bad it actually was. If it weren’t for Kieran, I would have died, and my parents would have been devastated.

“This is as far as I can go.” Everett stops.

“Thank you,” I mumble, stepping out onto the snow-covered cobblestone road and not waiting for him to reply.

My pants are soaked as I make the last of the journey to my parents’ house. My arms are still tightly wrapped around my body. The door opens before I can take my hand out to knock, and my worried mother comes into view.

“Come in.” She ushers me out of the cold. “Put the bag on the table and get by the fire.”

I do as she says, not fully seeing everything around me. I know I’m not close to hypothermia and dying, but I don’t feel right. Something is off inside of me, and I don’t know what. I feel lost, in a daze, and not fully conscious.

Could it be from nearly dying, or is it from spending the night with Kieran?

“Come on.” My mother pushes me toward the fire. “Sit on the chair and warm up. I’ll get you something hot to drink.”

I sit in silence, staring at the fire dance in front of me like I did with Kieran. Something changed last night but I don’t know what changed.

It’s almost like spending time with him last night slid something into place, something that should have been in place long before last night.

I brush off the feeling and focus on what’s in front of me. I’m here with my mother, something I didn’t think would happen last night before Kieran rescued me. Sighing, I close my eyes for a couple of seconds.

Everything reminds me of Kieran. Will I ever stop thinking about him?

“Are you okay, Adeline?” Mother asks, handing me a cup of broth. “Slowly drink that to warm your insides. I want to see all of it gone. No arguments.”

She will get no arguments from me. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since I left the house yesterday to head to Hellhollow. My stomach gurgles, begging me to chug the broth down, but I do as my mother tells me, not wanting to get a scolding.

I can still feel some of the effects from last night. I have an internal chill that I can’t seem to shake as I sit in front of the fire. I felt it a little when I was with Kieran, but I thought it was just being close to him. Now I know it wasn’t, it’s from almost dying.

“Did you set out early this morning?” Mother asks as she sits down next to me. “Did you walk all night in the cold?”

I open and close my mouth several times, trying to figure out what to say. I can’t tell her about Kieran and his friends saving me. She wouldn’t understand and may tell me to show the guards who helped me, and I don’t want to get them punished.

I’m not going to do it.

“I walked for most of the night,” I softly reply, taking a sip of the broth. The heat slides down my throat, and it settles in my stomach, warming me slightly. “I did stop and build a fire with some small twigs that hadn’t been touched by the snow yet. I warmed a little before I started the journey again.”

I feel guilty lying to her, but it’s necessary. I have a connection with Kieran that no one would understand, and I don’t want to put it at risk. We haven’t been able to explore what it is, and if anyone finds out, it will be all over. I have so many more questions for Kieran that only he can answer.

Shock fills her face as she looks at me. “You know how to build a fire?”

I give her a small smile. “I’ve watched you make one every single day,” I honestly reply. “I figured I knew how to do it, and I had to try. If I didn’t get in front of that fire, I wouldn’t have survived.”

And that is the truth. If Kieran hadn’t brought me back to his tent and put me in front of that fire, I would have frozen to death. I probably wouldn’t have succumbed to hypothermia with only his body heat warming me up, but the fire with his body did wonders in warming me up slowly.

He saved me.

I owe him my life.

“I know I don’t like building the fire here, but I can do it if I need to. I’ve practiced once or twice before when you weren’t around to see if I could actually do it. Just in case you might not be able to when you have the baby,” I point out, trying to make her believe my lie.

Now I’m going to have to go out one day when I grab ice and see if I can truly make a fire. I don’t want her to ask me to do it and not be able to. She would look at me so weirdly and I don’t need her asking questions.

“I should never have let you go yesterday,” Mother whispers. “I’m sorry.”

I stare at her in shock, not knowing how to reply. I do this every single year, and she has never said anything like this before. What’s changed? Is it because she knows if I die, she wouldn’t have anyone to help her with the baby and things around the house when Father is gone? I don’t want to think ill of her, but the only thing that has changed is her being pregnant.