Page 26 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

Thierre looked wounded. What did he want from her? He was Luminaux’s Prince, he could befriend anyone he liked. He didn’t need her.

And he had lied to her, even if it was lying by omission, not once, but twice. What else had he not told her? Was anything between them real?

Cahra knew she wasn’t being fair. Deep down, she understood the need for secrecy.

‘Prince Thierre’ would have been killed on sight in Kolyath. But that didn’t make his secret any less hurtful, or any less a betrayal of her trust.

Because as Terryl, as a lord, it had felt like the two of them weren’t so different.

But as a Prince…

There was no hope. And she felt stupid and naive and totally, utterly humiliated that she, a beggar, had feelings for a Prince , had even thought he might have feelings for—

‘Cahra.’ She was yanked from her thoughts by the sound of her own name as Thierre called to her, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

‘What?’ She instantly regretted her disrespectful tone.

‘If you wish to go, that is your choice.’ Why was he so upset? It had been her fantasy, not his. She and Thierre would never be anything and she just needed to forget her idiotic, childish feelings, forget him and get away. Far, far away, from him. From all of them.

‘But first, we must ride for Luminaux.’ Thierre was still speaking. ‘If Kolyath and Ozumbre have aligned, we are at risk every second that I am not behind our walls.’

‘On the condition that Cahra and I can leave at any time,’ Wyldaern declared.

‘Of course. As I have said, you are our guests,’ Thierre told her.

‘Your word, that we may leave,’ Wyldaern said. ‘On the throne of your King Royce.’

Cahra looked between the two of them, first at Wyldaern for her brazenness, then at Thierre, so taken aback the whites of his eyes showed.

‘I give you my word,’ Thierre vowed. Wyldaern seemed satisfied. He surveyed her, asking the Seer then, ‘Are you in need of healing?’

Wyldaern gave him a thin smile. ‘I shall manage.’

‘So,’ Raiden said, raising his head. ‘A question.’ He eyed Wyldaern. ‘By the stream, you said you were going to see your teacher.’

‘That is not a question,’ Wyldaern told him. ‘What of it?’

‘An Oracle, then,’ Raiden continued.

‘Shall I repeat myself?’ Wyldaern smiled, but her gaze was unyielding.

‘And you want to go, too.’ Raiden cocked his head at Cahra. Another non-question. Cahra didn’t like where this was heading.

‘So what?’ Cahra countered, ‘If I’m free to leave?’

‘A Seer, and the messenger of the prophecy’s first omen. Your people’s prophecy,’ Raiden said, turning to Wyldaern. ‘What are you not telling us?’

‘Raiden.’ Thierre sighed. He sat slumped, clearly dispirited after their exchange.

Cahra ground her teeth against feeling sorry for him.

‘They are not telling us whatever they are not telling us because we must regain their trust. Despite events, that is prudent. At least, until they meet the King and Queen, and can decide of their own volition.’

Raiden, who looked like he wanted to argue, said nothing.

‘Avail yourself of our hospitality,’ Thierre went on. ‘Experience Luminaux, then judge us, leave us, if that is your will. We are not the sister kingdoms of Kolyath or Ozumbre. See our kingdom with your own eyes and decide.’

Wyldaern asked, ‘And if this is a ploy? To keep us in Luminaux?’

Thierre locked eyes with the Seer as he said, ‘I gave you my word.’

Cahra spoke. ‘We will give you one night. One . Then we’re gone.’

Then I’m gone.

Wyldaern gave a supportive nod.

Thierre inclined his head in return, his indigo eyes flickering to Cahra for a moment, then away. As if hesitating. ‘Cahra, there is something else.’

Cahra stared at him. ‘No,’ she said, her voice hollow, even to her.

No. No more lies.

Thierre opened his mouth, then shut it. Before looking blankly out the window, his lips a taut line as the coach rode for Luminaux.

Cahra just stared into the Wilds, wondering how she’d managed to care so much for someone she didn’t even know.

Everyone was silent for the rest of the journey, as the horses rode hard to get Thierre behind Luminaux’s walled defences.

Any excitement Cahra had felt about the kingdom was long gone and, in its place, there was only anguish.

It must have showed, because she could feel Thierre watching her, casting her pained glances, but she refused to acknowledge them.

There was no point. Even if somehow, impossibly, he felt an inkling of what she did, he was a Prince.

Whatever she’d stupidly imagined may have been between them, whatever they’d shared when he touched her hand—

It had no hope.

Cahra kept her face angled to the outside world, away from Thierre, and started to notice subtle changes in the Wilds along the cobbled road to Luminaux.

Little things, at first: the dimness easing, more daylight breaking through the speckled foliage of the forest ceiling.

Dainty red, white and pink flowers lined the roadside, green undulating grasses at their backs.

The houses they passed were neater, lovelier, with curving stone paths and tended gardens.

And the sound of animals had returned, the melodious songs of robins and sparrows warbling through the windows of the coach.

She studied the homes, the white wood, clean glass and boldly painted doors – all the hues of the rainbow – greeting them at every turn.

Cahra could hear the splish-splash of a brook nearby. Life was returning.

And with it, enough misery for her to drown in.

She watched Wyldaern, the Seer unmoved by the vistas outside. At least Cahra wouldn’t be alone to face Luminaux’s royals.

Cahra closed her eyes as the realisation hit. Seers, she thought, then glanced at Wyldaern and committed to less cursing. But arriving in Luminaux would require meeting the kingdom’s King and Queen, Thierre’s parents.

She’d never be with him, but she’d have to meet, greet, curtsey to his royal parents. See his castle, like the Steward’s in Kolyath.

It was too much, Cahra thought, inhaling a shaky breath.

Wyldaern noticed, shifting closer to her.

Cahra wanted to smile at the Seer’s kindness, but she couldn’t force the expression to her face.

All she felt, all that consumed her was a grim churning in the pit of her stomach with the knowledge that Thierre had lied.

He had seen her – Cahra had shown him who she really was – and he had broken that fledgling trust.

Had held her hand. Laid her in his bed.

She shook her head, as if she could wrench the memories from it. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered! It didn’t matter what she thought or how she felt about him, he was Crown Prince Thierre of Luminaux .

No matter what he’d said about titles, a low-born would never matter to Thierre.

Cahra looked up from her clasped hands, knuckles white, as if gripping something, anything, would stop her falling to pieces.

Silver birches swayed in the sun, the trees glowing like happy apparitions, and she scented sweet jasmine on the breeze that tousled her hair.

Then a familiar metal caught her eye – bars, wrought and thorned and jet-black as night, that were set into the nearing kingdom’s dry-stone fortifications.

She watched as Thierre’s smile lit up his blue goldstone eyes. Without a word, he and Raiden raised an arm out each window, signalling their arrival to their home kingdom.

Wyldaern glanced at Cahra, who took a single, sinking breath.

They’d arrived in Luminaux.