Page 21 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Vibrant streaks of orange and yellow smeared across the sky as the sun rose over the mountains. Arenna woke to a comforting warmth on her face, the air heavy with the scent of damp dirt and ash. She blinked against the rays of gold, rubbing her eyes with her fists until she could see properly.

She felt nothing but peace until she remembered the attack from the night before, and how she and Koltin had both been pulled into darkness from pain and exhaustion. Then, all the familiar dread slowly and torturously rolled back in.

With a quick scan of her surroundings, she realized this was not the same place the Vorgrith had attacked, nor was Koltin anywhere near her. Combing through her memory, she tried to piece together the events of the attack, struggling to remember where they had ended up and where Koltin was.

This portion of Burwood was more dense, more deadly. The trees, though decaying and leafless, huddled close together, their dead branches intertwining into thick, overgrown masses—as opposed to the opened forest they’d been in last night.

Snow gave an eerie illusion of what Burwood once was. Without it, the branches appeared dark and lifeless. But covered in pillowy white, Arenna could imagine what the massive evergreens looked like in their prime, standing so tall that their tips were lost in the clouds.

Boots crunched in the snow.

Arenna spun around, reaching for her dagger.

She jumped as Koltin broke through the line of trees, two dead rabbits in his hands. Relief swelled in her thumping chest. “You’re awake,” he said, smiling. His shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, his arm resting against his chest in a makeshift sling.

“Are you okay?” Arenna stood, quickly walking to the commander and inspecting his bandages. He had done a poor job, but she imagined it would be difficult to wrap his own shoulder.

“Been better.” He laughed. Arenna shot him a glare, only making him laugh harder. “I’m fine , Ren. I’ve cleaned it out for the most part. Come on, help me clean these so we can eat. We have a week’s ride before we reach Smeeds, and you need fuel.”

“Let me check it,” she insisted.

Koltin sighed but ultimately nodded.

She carefully untied the knot from the top of his shoulder, letting the bandage fall. Deep fissures ran around the curve of his shoulder and down his muscled arm. Arenna’s stomach sank, but she reached for her pack and pulled out a small tin.

“Don’t move,” she demanded. Arenna sunk her fingers into the thick ointment. “This is going to hurt.” She smeared the translucent cream across his wounds, the infection bubbling in response.

Koltin hissed through clenched teeth. “What is that?”

“Zyrall. It will heal any infection, but we’ll still need to stitch you up.” Arenna dipped and spread again.

While Koltin rummaged through the pack for the needle and thread, and the Zyrall kicked in, Arenna remembered how she had begun to heal herself.

Pulling the glove off her right hand, Arenna discovered the once-gaping hole in her palm was gone entirely.

She had expected this after watching her skin knit itself back together, but it did not stop the awe she felt in that moment.

She ran her thumb over the still-sensitive flesh, wondering if being granted elemental power also granted her the ability to heal herself.

However, when she inspected her calf again, the wounds were still present.

Not as deep as she would have thought, but still aching.

Arenna recalled the moments when she watched herself heal, how the flames beneath her skin had thrashed violently, skittering across the wound as it closed.

Maybe she could only heal when her power was activated.

Ironic, to have such a destructive power, yet it heals as easily as it destroys.

“Here,” Koltin said, handing her the needle and thread.

“Stay still, okay?” Koltin hesitantly nodded. She got to work stitching the tears in his sun-kissed skin, ignoring the churning in her gut. “Thank you for going hunting. I would have been happy to help if you’d woken me, especially with the state of your shoulder.”

Koltin tipped his head back, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. “I know you would have,” he groaned, “but I wanted you to rest. It’s important.”

“It’s important that you do as well,” she remarked. “I know what you’re doing. And I appreciate your kindness, but I’ve felt useless for so long.” She swallowed, her throat tightening. “I don’t want to feel that way with you.”

Koltin had done everything for her, gotten her out of the castle, away from the Vorgrith, cleaned her wounds, set up camp, and even hunted for something to eat. All while she—what? Slept?

It unnerved her more than it should have. For the past five years, Arenna’s life had not been her own. Jaksen controlled what she did, where she went, and what she ate. He monitored her movements, words, and actions—and did not hesitate to punish her for whatever he deemed fit.

She was never given a true place in his council, never allowed to change the world with her choices or opinions. Jaksen stripped her bare, physically and emotionally. He ensured that Arenna not only felt useless but was useless.

Koltin cringed. “I failed you, Ren,” he whispered. “I should have gotten you out sooner.” Arenna’s heart strained at his words. “I think in a way, I’m trying to make it up to you.”

She said quietly, “You didn’t fail me. For too long, I’ve blamed myself. I could have acted differently, spoken differently, and behaved better. But I never blamed the only person responsible for any of this.” Koltin tensed beneath her touch. “There is no one to blame but him.”

He looked at her, a sad smile on his pink lips. “Yeah,” he agreed, “You’re right.” Guilt lingered, and she wasn’t sure if there was anything she could say to take that away from him.

“Thank you,” Arenna whispered as she finished the final knots in his stitches. Koltin’s hollow eyes met hers. “For all that you did last night. Those creatures could have killed us.”

Koltin always surprised her with his gentleness and kind heart.

He was born to House Nicosa, which should have made him cruel.

Each House had a specific role to help the kingdom thrive, and Nicosa was responsible for Brookworth’s armies.

Girls were raised to produce soldiers, and boys were raised to fight.

Jaksen told her stories about the soldiers bred from Nicosa—how wicked, violent, and strong they were.

They began training at the age of five and didn’t stop until death.

After years of hard, brutal, unforgiving molding, these boys were shaped into stone-cold men, then sent to Brookworth. To the front. To war.

She always hated thinking about the children in Nicosa—the young girls taught they amounted to nothing more than bearing sons, and the boys tortured, tormented, and neglected for the sake of training .

Arenna tried to find ways to help them—to plant seeds of doubt in Jaksen’s mind or in the council’s—but nothing ever stuck.

Eventually, through abuse and years of belittlement, Arenna grew to accept Jaksen’s rebuttal: that’s how it worked for our ancestors, and it is how it will work for us .

She had no say in this kingdom, nor in how it was ruled, and that was something she came to terms with early in her reign.

But still, those children kept her up at night.

Koltin, however, didn’t hold onto the beatings and brainwashing from his childhood. He kept his humanity. He was good, kind, and caring—where the soldiers born and raised in Nicosa were vicious, cruel, and numb to both emotions and morals.

She was thankful to the Seven for granting him such a heart.

He chuckled. “It was you who saved me, Ren. If it wasn’t for you, for your magic”—he glanced at her hands—“then I wouldn’t be here.”

She nodded, though doubt still lingered.

There was nothing more to say. Arenna finished patching him up, then made him take a small sip of ketotadine to numb any lingering pain. “Here,” she handed him her rabbit after they sat in silence for a while, “skin this for me?”

He grinned. “You sure you don’t want to do this one yourself?”

“Out of all the things I could do to start helping out, flaying a rabbit is the one I’m happy to pass along.” He laughed, and Arenna joined him. It felt good to laugh and talk, but it hurt more to realize that she had been deprived of such things for so long.

“Then it’s my honor, Queen Arenna .” She huffed, pushing her elbow into his ribs. Koltin began skinning the thick fur off the rabbits. She immediately wanted to turn away in disgust but forced herself to watch, trying to memorize the steps in case she ever needed to do this herself.

Arenna assembled the logs in the small pit he had dug, then looked at the palm of her hands. “I wonder if my flame burns the way regular fire does.” Koltin raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it doesn’t produce smoke.”

He sat back and considered. “It’s worth a shot. Can you summon it?”

“If I can, I don’t know how.” It had been sheer luck her magic had shown up when it did during their fight with the Vorgrith. Arenna hadn’t been awake for long, but she did not feel that new normal hum of power.

“There has to be a way for you to call on it.” He finished skinning the rabbits, shoving two thick sticks through the meat.

“I don’t know much about Fae and their magic, but I do know they bend it to their desire.

They call it, and the power answers. My mother used to tell Kleo and me stories about it.

It’s probably like talent; it has to be practiced. ”

“I’m not Fae.”

“No,” Koltin agreed, “but your power might be.”

“When Faylen was—” She stopped, her mouth suddenly dry. “When Faylen was killed,” Arenna hesitantly continued, “my body just . . . reacted. One minute I felt nothing, and the next, I felt everything .”

Koltin motioned to the logs. “Try. The worst that happens is it doesn’t work.”

“Actually, the worst that happens is I burn us to death.”