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46

Reyla

T he diary was waiting, and I was determined to read it as soon as I could.

But we’d spent a night together and part of a day.

As much as I wanted to stay in our suite forever, we couldn't do that to our people. We'd taken a few stolen moments for ourselves, but we needed to ensure that those in the city were receiving the help they needed.

We rose from the bed.

After bathing, Lore stood inside the closet, pulling on his leather pants and tunic, the faint creak of the straps breaking the quiet as I finished strapping a blade to my thigh. His eyes trailed over me, a smirk teasing at his lips. “I love how skilled you are with weapons,” he said. “You already know that you’re utterly lethal to my heart.”

I rolled my eyes while a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. My leather armor clung snugly, the dark hue bringing out flecks of silver in the embroidery along its seams, a royal touch I didn’t ask for but couldn’t exactly turn down. “Lethal?” I arched a brow, slipping a dagger into the top of my boot. “Lethal works both ways, you know. One look at you, and I'm questioning if we’ll make it out of this room today.”

He crossed over to me in a few bold strides, his warm hands settling on my hips, pulling me close enough for the air between us to disappear. His lips brushed my ear, his voice low. “You know what I mean.”

I sighed as bliss sunk through my bones. This husband of mine… He kept undoing me then putting me back together again, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I looked up at him, almost ready to suggest we take a bit more time together before leaving, but guilt stabbed through me. I didn't begrudge this time with him, but I wouldn't love him at the expense of others. We had to make sure things were going well in the city.

I pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Soon, love.”

His grip tightened as though he hated the idea of letting me go, before he nodded, his jaw flexing as he stepped back. “You’re right.” The sultry look in his eyes promised things that sent warmth flooding through me despite what waited for us outside our suite.

He cupped my jaw, his fingertips brushing my cheek, and kissed me.

I curled my fingers into his leather tunic and kissed him back. Heat coiled low in my belly, that magnetic pull I found impossible to resist. But reality was insistent, and the city wouldn’t wait for us.

Not long later, we stepped out into the hallway, Lore’s hand brushing mine before linking our fingers together. At our appearance, our guards snapped to attention.

“We’re going into the city,” Lore said.

The guards nodded crisply, falling in step behind us.

As our carriage wound down the hillside, approaching the city, the scent of death hung in the air. On the outskirts, we left the carriage and proceeded on foot. Smoke lingered like a ghost refusing to be banished, curling up from smoldering funeral pyres and buildings alike. People bustled around what remained of the marketplace and the streets surrounding it, their faces streaked with soot, busy hauling timber, sacks of grain, and crates of supplies.

The market was a sea of overturned stalls and splintered wood, the air still sharp with the tang of destruction.

Lord Briscalar hurried over to join us. “Welcome, welcome. Delightful to see you both.” Dressed in a simple tunic and pants, one might think he lived one street over—if they didn’t catch the flint of authority in his eyes. “We’ve made considerable progress,” he told us both. “The bodies of those who perished have been collected. The head of the castle guard has been coordinating food, water, and supplies for construction, and I’ve set up a central area near the market well, where healers are giving aid. Castle staff are handing out bags with provisions, and others are ensuring we fill whatever need our citizens may have.”

“Thank you,” Lore said.

I barreled into Briscalar and hugged him. His breath whoofed out, and he patted my back. Easing away, I braced his arms. “You need a raise. A new manor house, perhaps? Or elevation to the highest position in the court.”

“That would be ours, love,” Lore said with the curl of his lips. “But I see where you’re going with this.” His mouth smoothed, and he met Lord Briscalar’s gaze. “Find me in the throne room soon. I have something in mind.”

“Oh, my king. My queen!” Briscalar bent forward in a deep bow. “I do this with my heart, not with the expectation of any sort of reward, and while I’m delighted that you think of me kindly, please don’t.”

“Throne room, Lord Briscalar,” Lore said, though his eyes gleamed with humor. “You will not dissuade me.”

“I thank you, then.” Briscalar’s gaze scanned the area. “If you’ll excuse me…” He rushed over to help someone heft a bundle of slate tiles onto a roof where they would replace those destroyed by the borgons.

We continued across the marketplace.

Lore stopped to help a woman pushing a cart full of bread, shanks of meat, and rounds of cheese, taking it from her and guiding it to where she'd set up a stall. As she joined him, he tugged a pouch from his pocket and handed her coins, speaking to her in a low voice, probably telling her to give everything away, that he'd more than cover the cost. From our own personal coffers, I’d bet.

I spotted a man wrestling with a sagging beam at the edge of his stall, his brow furrowed as he worked to maneuver the new support post into place with one hand, his shoulders trembling under the weight of the beam overhead.

I rushed his way. “Let me help.” Reaching up, I steadied the beam, lifting it slightly while he rushed to grab the support post and maneuver it into place.

As he secured it, his eyes flicked to me, and I read how tired he was in the creases on his face and around his eyes. He exhaled, dipping his head forward. “Thank you.”

Behind me, footsteps approached. I turned, catching the approval in Lore’s eyes as he paused at my side. He didn’t speak, only placed a hand against my lower back, where he gave me a quick stroke. “You belong here. More than you realize.”

Heat pricked the back of my neck, and I nodded.

He moved off to help others while I rushed to help the man carry another post from his cart and helped him add it to the building.

Surren and the rest of my guard hovered nearby, scanning the area for threats.

I flicked my hand his way. “Don’t stand around me. Go help someone.”

Surren’s brow narrowed before he spoke with the others. They split, rushing to assist where they were needed the most while Surren strode over to work on the stall with me and the man.

“I’ve got it from here,” the man finally said, stepping back to look at the repaired stall with pride. “Go help others and thank you again.” His hand landed solidly on my shoulder. “I’d heard things…” Color suffused his face, and his gaze shot to the cobblestone street. “Nasty rumors that are clearly untrue.” When he looked up, steel filled his eyes. “I won’t allow anyone to speak badly of you in my presence.”

“Thank you.” With a crooked smile, I left him to help someone else.

Pain etched my people’s faces. The city had suffered. Crumbled walls, patched roofs where homes had been scorched, and too many marked by grief. Families hovered near pyres, their shoulders hunched.

They'd dragged the borgon carcasses to one area, and they burned too, a pyre built by angry villagers and rage.

I crouched down where a group of children had gathered near an overturned cart, pulling scorched bricks from the wreckage of what must’ve been someone's home. Sweat clung to their foreheads, streaking paths through the dirt on their cheeks. They worked with surprising determination, but the jagged edges of crumbled masonry made me flinch for their safety.

“Here.” I gently took an enormous, sharp-tipped slab from a boy no older than eight and laid it on the growing, neat pile nearby. “You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.” I pulled a strip of cloth from my pouch, wrapping it around his palm in a makeshift glove. “Protect those hands; we’ll need them.”

The children paused, their wide eyes on me as though seeing me for the first time. I met the gaze of an older girl who seemed to be leading the group. She straightened, crossing her arms on her chest. She was clearly defensive, though curiosity lingered in her eyes.

“You’re organizing this?” I asked her.

She gave me a curt nod. “We want to help too. Don’t tell us we can’t. This is the second crushed building we’re sorting through.” She waved to a large mound of stones nearby. “We’re clearing the rubble so a new one can be built.”

“I wouldn’t think of telling you that you can’t help. We need everyone to set our city right.” Admiration for them tugged at my heart. I motioned to the rubble around us. “It’s a wonderful idea, but first…” I rose and strode over to a villager pushing a cart full of tools and supplies up the street from the waterfront. “Do you have gloves, aprons, or anything I can give the children to wear to protect them?”

“A few pairs of gloves.” His frown shot to the children watching us silently. “Lord Briscalar brought all sorts of things from the castle, and we’re grateful to him for it. You too,” he hurried to say. “It’s not common for a queen to…” He must’ve realized what he was saying could be taken as criticism, because he placed his palm ov er his mouth before his hand dropped to his side. “Wait here? I'll be back.”

“Of course.”

As he scurried back down the street toward the harbor, the children whispered. Soon, the man returned with gloves and a few leather aprons, handing them to the older girl to divide up among them. He left to take his cart farther into the square while I showed the girl how to keep the younger ones safe while working, teaching them to sort salvageable materials from debris so they could separate what could be reused for repairs from what should be discarded. How to avoid being too close to a wall that might collapse.

“Stack anything worth saving together with the rest. Rubble can go in a cart for the mason to grind or dispose of.” I righted a cart that didn’t appear horribly damaged.

One of the littlest boys looked up at me with his eyes glinting with tears. “Will this bring back our homes?”

“New homes, but yes.” I stroked his light brown hair and wiped the tears from his face. “Every piece you save will help us rebuild faster.” I left them to find Lore. “Many are homeless.” I swiped my hair off my face, probably streaking soot across my cheek, but that was the least of my worries. “They need housing now.”

“I spoke to Briscalar about it already, telling him to send those who don't have shelter to the castle. We’ll make sure we find a secure place for every one of them.” He lifted his leather tunic up over his head and held it out to me.

Taking it, I frowned, unsure why he'd handed it to me. He removed his soft undertunic and started shredding it into strips he added to the pile near the healers, holding only one back to dip in the water at the central well. He returned to delicately hold my face while he gently washed it clean .

After stroking his chest and returning his leather tunic to him to don again, I hurried over to the children with a fresh idea in my mind.

I crouched back down near the older girl, her sharp gaze darting between me and her group of children. She reminded me of a wary nyxin defending its pack. Smart. Careful. Protective. That kind of instinct couldn’t be taught. It had to be earned the hard way. She was so much like me when I was growing up as an orphan at the fortress. Always look out for the younger ones, someone once told me. They’re our future.

“What’s your name?” I asked, keeping my tone even so I didn’t spook her.

“Missy,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

“You’ve done a good job here, Missy. Your friends trust you, and it’s clear you’re keeping them safe.” Her posture softened. “I need a person like you to do something important. Do you feel up for a new task?”

Her brow scrunched. “Like what?”

“There are people here who are scared and don’t have a place to stay tonight. Families with little ones, elders who can’t rebuild on their own. Children who've lost their mothers or fathers or both. They need someone strong, smart, and capable to find them and help them get to the market area so we can make sure they have food, clean clothes, and somewhere safe to sleep tonight.”

Missy’s eyes widened, the weight of what I was asking sinking in. For a moment, I thought she might say no, and I worried it was too much to put on someone this young. But she straightened, and determination hardened her features.

“I can do that,” she said. “I'll find them for you and send them here.”

“I knew I could count on you. ”

Glancing over her shoulder at those still working on the rubble, she chewed on her lower lip. “What about them?”

“I’ll keep an eye on them while you’re gone. Take someone with you if you want, an older child who can help spread the word faster.”

Missy nodded, stealing a quick look at the boy I’d taken the slab from earlier. “I’ll talk to Nill,” she said more to herself than me.

“Good choice,” I said. “Now listen. Tell them to come back here or send one person from every group or family to the market square so we can get them organized. Make sure they know they’re welcome, no matter what they’ve lost. We’ll take them to the castle and make sure they have a safe place to stay. Food and water. A warm fire to stand by when it gets cold tonight.”

Her chin lifted, and I could see it already. She'd accepted the responsibility, made it her mission. “I’ll find them.” Her gaze shot back to me. “Will there really be enough food for all of them?”

“I'll make sure of it. I promise.” Worry gnawed its way through my chest. Lore would do his best to feed and shelter everyone, but stretching resources over the weeks to come would take no small amount of magic. Or a touch of ingenuity.

Missy studied me for half a breath before turning on her heel and calling to Nill. They strode off together.

“She’ll vanquish an enemy someday.” Lore’s voice came from close behind me.

“Maybe she already has. She survived this.” Would she make it through what I worried might be coming?

“You see yourself in her, don't you?” he asked, and I nodded. He brushed a stray strand of hair back from my face. His touch lingered, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made me acutely aware of how kind, caring, and amazing this man was .

“You're not wearing your tunic,” I said. “If you're not careful, your pretty skin will take a beating.”

“Had to take it off again. Someone else needed it; they had nothing.” He tilted his head, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Still pretty , am I? I thought I was lethal, the kind of man who can ruin anything.”

“Including me.” I pressed a hand to his chest, where warmth simmered under the muscle. “You can be both. It’s unfair, really.”

“How so?” His hand covered mine now resting over his heart.

“You’re too perfect.”

“Never that. Don’t forget that behind my amazing ass, I’m still insufferable, arrogant, and obsessive.”

“How can I?”

“I’d say you’re the one who’s unfair here. You disarm me with a single look. You inspire both devotion and madness within me.”

I shook my head, biting back a grin. “Madness seems about right.”

He leaned closer, his voice dipping to a murmur only I could hear. “I’d tear apart the fates themselves for one kiss, Reyla.” His lips brushed my forehead in a whisper, his breath warming my skin. “But for now, I’ll settle for watching you be a true force that should be reckoned with.”

A flush raced up my neck, but I held his gaze. “Good. Keep watch then. We’ve got mouths to feed and homes to rebuild.” We'd come back tomorrow and the days after that, not stopping until our city had been restored and our people were safe.

His low chuckle rang out as he reached for his tunic. “As you say, my queen.”

The day waned, and we continued working. And as the sun set, we helped pile newly found bodies onto pyres. In my mind, I continued an inventory of repairs yet to be made. Homes without doors or windows. Missing slates on too many rooftops. People wearing worn, scorched clothing, the only items they still possessed. We’d all donate or craft what we could with magic. I'd enlist the lords, ladies, and staff at the castle the moment I arrived back home.

As the sun dipped lower, Lore’s steady gaze often met mine. We tracked each other, tethered by the love burning in our hearts.

When we paused by a well to drink, he brushed the back of his hand against mine. “They see your strength, Wildfire, and so do I.”