Page 50 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

“Someday,” Kalie said, “I’m going to tell you the story of your namesakes.”

Tears blurred the squirming infant’s face, but her goddaughter’s eyes shone, and they were unmistakably Dalian. Aunt Calida’s eyes, Lexie’s eyes, Mother’s eyes, her eyes. A child with the pale blue eyes of Dali, the ebony skin of Ason, the birthright of Etov, and the blood of Renan.

“Your dad gave you a beautiful name, you know that?” Kalie brushed her thumb across her niece’s smooth cheek. “Calida Lexicaira.”

Lida cooed, and Kalie smiled at her.

She carried Lida across the dark solar, seized one of the heavy burgundy curtains, and yanked it aside. Sunlight flooded into the room. “They were sisters. Calida and Caira. They argued and they fought, but at the end of the day… I think they lo ved each other.”

Theron had finally announced his daughter’s name, and Father’s face had darkened when his firstborn grandchild was named for his wife and the sister-in-law he’d hated.

Theron’s choice to include Caira in the name had brought tears to Mother’s eyes, and that had been the biggest blow of all to Father—the name he’d erased from Mother was immortalized in Lida.

Staring out the window at Redmont’s rocky shore, Kalie bounced her niece in her arms. “Calida wouldn’t have been the Duchissa without Caira.

At her darkest moment, when she had no hope of victory, your grandmother brought a fleet to save her.

She was pregnant, but she came to battle anyway.

I thought it was about ambition, so she could put an Etovian on the Dalian throne. But now, I?—”

A thunderous crash made Kalie’s heart stop. She whirled around, cradling Lida to her chest.

A knife—there was a knife on her dresser, but she wouldn’t get to it fast enough. She had to protect Lida?—

An Etovian Praetor stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. He pounded his staff into the ground and crumpled to his knees. Tightening her grip on Lida, Kalie glanced into the hallway. There was nothing there. Her usual Praetors stood on either side of the door.

Not an immediate threat. But danger, nonetheless.

“Your Highness,” panted the kneeling guard, “your father needs you in the command center immediately. He says it’s urgent.”

“What happened?” Kalie snatched her knife from the dresser. “Was there an attack?”

“No, Your Highness.” The Praetor stumbled to his feet. “A man has come from Dali. He has a message for your eyes alone.”

Kalie’s eyes widened. If Iliana found out, that messenger was risking death.

Yanking open the door to her antechamber, she passed Lida off to her nursemaid. Blood rushed in her ears as she kicked off her heels, slipped on plimsolls, and took off running. Her Praetors caught up to her, and she barked an order to summon Zane. Someone spoke into a comm.

She skidded to a halt before the command center .

The Praetors pounded their golden staffs. Barging past them, she threw open the doors to the cavernous room of screens.

Hushed voices passed between dark figures huddled around the projector. The lights were dimmed, and the screens were all inactive. Beside Father, Mother’s pale hair stood out like a light in the darkness. Selene stood on her other side, and next to her…

Kalie’s jaw fell open. “What are you doing here?”

Shimmering lights glinted off Haeden’s onyx studs. As he knelt, he wore the same smirk that had convinced her to sneak out to the tempor bike races as kids—the smirk he’d turned on their furious guards when they’d been caught. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

Kalie bolted across the room and raised him to his feet.

Throwing her arms around him, she buried her face in the collar of his rumpled purple jacket.

He smelled of citrus and the sea, and when she closed her eyes, she could almost smell Ariah standing next to him, her rose oil perfume always slightly stronger than his.

Cold air blasted down on them as he rubbed her back. Selene muttered something snide, but she ignored it.

“Are you alright?” Kalie gripped his arms. “Is everyone safe? They didn’t tell me anything. What’s happening, why are you here?”

The door slammed open, and she jumped.

As Zane barged into the room, his expression was wild. “Who’s this?”

“Haeden Stone, Baron of Covington, one of my oldest friends… What in Zagan’s name happened to the two of you?”

Theron traipsed in beside him. Both sported grass stains on their grubby, sweat-drenched clothes, and the pungent stench of body odor clung to them as they approached the table.

“I think it’s obvious, sister. They were fighting. Over your lost honor, I’d assume.”

“Enough of that,” Theron snapped at Selene, as Kalie’s nostrils flared. “Baseless allegations are how rumors spread, and that’s the last thing we need. I have no quarrel with Wells.”

Zane’s eyes shifted away from her. “It was a friendly fight.”

Kalie tensed as everything clicked. His recent exhaustion before their morning lessons, his dirty clothes, his casual references during their nightly talks to Theron , Theron’s daughter, Theron said.

Not the Crown Prince. Theron . There was only one passion they could’ve bonded over, and there was only one reason Theron would’ve made the time.

“No. No way.”

Theron met her gaze impassively, but Zane didn’t look at her.

Kalie marched towards the table, flattening her palms against the cool metal surface. “I know what you’re doing, and—no. We’re not doing that.”

Selene sniffed. “What’s she on about?”

“We ran into each other at the sparring grounds,” Theron said. “There was no one else around, so we decided to practice together. That’s all.”

Kalie glanced at Zane, but he wouldn’t face her. Her fists clenched. That was all the confirmation she needed.

Haeden cleared his throat. “Pardon the interruption, but I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Yes, of course.” Kalie shook her head. Worrying about Zane and her idiot brother could come later. “I’m sorry, you said you have a message for me?”

Shrugging off his jacket, Haeden pulled a knife from his pocket. He flipped the jacket inside out and sliced a seam, removing a blank slip of paper, a lighter, and a helium drivchip.

Frowning, Kalie flipped the paper over. “There’s nothing here.”

“Try the lighter.” Haeden set the drivchip down on the table, flicked on the lighter, and held it under the paper.

Kalie jerked her hands away on instinct, but the glimmer of fire revealed an unfamiliar symbol.

She shifted the slip of paper over the flame.

Pale brown letters crept across the page. Two lines, in a foreign language.

Kalie’s brows pinched together.

Father plugged the drivchip into the base of the holoprojector, and light shimmered as a projection flickered to life. He selected a file. As it fizzled onto the holo, Kalie held her breath, but it only showed random strings of data.

Zane grunted. “Encrypted. ”

“Do you have any idea what it means?” Haeden asked.

“I should be asking you.”

“Me?” Haeden flicked the lighter off. “I don’t have a clue.”

“But it’s your message.” Father made a subtle gesture, and his Praetors approached the table. Their eerie footsteps trod against the tile. “Start explaining, Baron Stone, or?—”

Haeden yelped and raised his hands. “It’s not my message, Your Majesty.

One of the palace attendants brought the note to my room two nights ago, with the lighter and the drivchip.

He said it’s from an ally, and that it’s urgent that I pass it along to our missing friend.

He wouldn’t tell me who he was working for. ”

“Julian?”

“I don’t know, Kal. I haven’t seen Julian since the day of your coronation. If this was him, don’t you think he’d find a more direct way to get the information to you?”

“Personally,” Selene said, examining her nails, “if I was Julian, I wouldn’t be sticking my neck out for you. Have none of you considered this could be a trap? Frankly, Baron Stone, I don’t know why you would risk it.”

Heat burned Kalie’s cheeks, and she clenched her fists behind her back.

Mother murmured a warning, but Selene’s sneer didn’t waver.

Haeden glowered at her. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Why? What has she ever done for you? For any of you?”

“Quiet,” Father growled.

“No.” Selene stalked towards Kalie. “It needs to be said. Everyone’s bending over backwards to take risks for you, but when Father sends his troops to fight and die for you , when our Empire gives everything for you , when your friends risk it all for you … you’ll run, like always.”

Kalie gritted her teeth. “You should leave.”

“Whether you like it or not, I’m your heir. I have every right to be in this meeting.”

“No.”

Selene’s mouth gaped open. Her eyebrows climbed to her hairline.

Drawing herself up to full height, Kalie met Theron’s eyes, the same eyes that stared up at her from her niece’s face.

Theron tilted his head, wordlessly asking if she was sure, but it was obviously a formality.

This had been his intention when he named Lida.

He was a schemer, but he was a leader who believed in justice and truth.

A schemer as regent was better than a spoiled brat as duchissa.

“Lida is my heir.”

Neither of her parents looked surprised, but Selene’s face reddened. “I knew you hated me, but really, you’d rather have an infant rule instead of me?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You started this long ago.”

“ I started it?” Selene balled her hands into fists. “I wasn’t the one who ran. I didn’t abandon our family, I didn’t insult our mother, I wasn’t the one who chose a different sister!”

As her thunderous words rocked through the room, Kalie flinched. That was the crux of her argument, the hill Selene would always die on—that she’d chosen Ariah over her.