Page 28 of Warrior Princess (Blood Weaver Trilogy #3)

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“ W here have the two of you been?” Chief Aryan demanded as we entered our room. The chief of the Crimson Clan had obviously been waiting for us inside for quite a long time. “Marsten is crawling with Eldwain soldiers!”

I cleared my throat. “They’re looking for me.”

Chief Aryan scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course they are. Why am I not surprised?”

“We can’t let them have her, Father!” Ronan took a menacing step forward, but I pulled him back and shook my head to stop him.

Chief Aryan gritted his teeth. “This girl is no longer our concern!”

“I love her!” Ronan’s voice boomed in the otherwise silent inn. Taking a calming breath, he said softer, “She is every concern of mine.”

Chief Aryan stood, running a hand through his long, dark hair. “Listen, son. There are many girls just like her. She is nothing special.” He squeezed his son’s shoulder in what I was sure he thought was a reassuring manner. “Move on. She’s been nothing but trouble.”

Ronan's jaw clenched. He shook off his father's hands and stepped back to stand firmly by my side. “She's not just any girl.” His voice was thick with emotion. “She's everything . And this isn't just about her. Leila is caught in something much bigger. We can't simply abandon her to Caelan's whims! His plans will affect all of Asteria.”

“I'm not risking my clan for one girl, no matter how much you care for her!” Chief Aryan declared, his voice booming with finality.

Before Ronan could say another word, the door swung open and Shiro stepped in, his presence commanding silence. “Aryan, I couldn't help but overhear,” he began, his tone even but firm. “I understand your concerns, but you seem to forget the debt the Crimson Clan owes Leila.”

Chief Aryan raised an eyebrow and defiantly crossed his arms. “What debt?”

Shiro moved further into the room, his gaze locked on the burly chieftain. “Leila's actions in the past have directly saved many lives within the Crimson Clan. Her intervention during the skirmish in Keldara turned the tide in our favor. Without her, we might have faced a significant loss. Also, let’s not forget that without her, I wouldn’t be here.”

“All the good that’s done us,” Chief Aryan grumbled.

The room fell silent as the weight of Shiro's words settled among us. Ronan nodded, supporting Shiro’s reminder of my past deeds.

Chief Aryan's stance softened slightly, the lines of conflict easing as he considered the implications. “Even so,” he started slowly, “why should we continue to risk our necks for one person?”

“Because it's the right thing to do,” Shiro said simply. “And because the Crimson Clan honors its debts. We protect our own, and right now, Leila is one of our own.”

Chief Aryan glared at me before rolling his eyes and looking away. “It seems you’re all going to go against me regardless of whether I agree or not.” He straightened to his full imposing height. “What do you propose we do?”

Shiro smirked and turned to me. “Well… I think it’s time for our dear Leila to sound the drums of war.”

Ronan and I wore matching looks of disbelief as we stared at the demon fox. “Excuse me?”

Shiro cleared his throat. “Apologies that you must find out this way, but your father…”

My heart plummeted. “What about my father?” I pushed past Ronan to stand before Shiro. “What happened?”

“After you and I fled, the fae kidnapped him.” He furrowed his brows, awaiting my reaction.

“Leila…” Ronan reached for my hand, lending comfort the way only he could.

I felt the world tilt beneath me as Shiro’s words echoed like a distant thunderstorm in my ears. “Kidnapped?” My voice was barely a whisper as I struggled to process Shiro's words. How could this happen? My father, the very pillar of Valoria, taken by Caelan’s men? By Orion, of all people?

Chief Aryan's gruff voice broke through my shock. “This changes things.” His expression hardened into a mask of resolve. “If they've taken Malik, they won't stop there. We need a plan, and we need it now .”

Shiro nodded solemnly and started to outline his thoughts. “We strike fast and hard. We'll need every ally we can muster. Caelan and the fae are formidable, but not invincible.”

Ronan's grip tightened around my hand, grounding me as I felt myself spiraling in a vortex of fear-tinged determination. “Leila, we're going to get him back.” His voice was firm, his eyes burning with fierce protectiveness.

“What about my brother?” I blurted, reaching for Shiro’s arm. “My mother?”

He sighed. “Surprisingly, your mother was allowed to return to Valoria. As for your brother, he returned to Valoria with your mother to take control of Valoria before Caelan can show up.”

I stumbled backward as if I’d been struck in the face. “No, but that means my father is all alone!”

“He’ll be fine, Leila,” Ronan said. “Malik is strong-willed. As horrible as it is to consider, kidnapping him means Caelan must need him for something. Otherwise, he would have killed him outright.”

My mind raced a mile a minute. “Shiro is right… we need allies. We must send word to Avery. The time is now . We can’t wait much longer!” I stopped pacing and stared into Ronan’s crimson eyes. “I need to get word to Mykal before he returns to Keldara.”

“I’ll go to the fabric shop to contact Avery,” Ronan volunteered. “Shiro, can you send word to Mykal to meet us?” As if just remembering the clan chieftain stood mute nearby, Ronan turned to Chief Aryan. “And Father… return to the Grasslands, but come back with our army. We’ll need it.”

His father started to argue immediately. “I’m not risking the safety of my people for—”

“I’ll send word to Marcel,” I interrupted. “He won’t like it, but he’ll march the troops south. I know he will.”

Chief Aryan rolled his eyes and offered a condescending smirk. “Are you sure? Your brother is not known for taking his sovereign duties seriously.” He glanced at Ronan and Shiro, as if trying to sway them to his way of thinking. “We cannot depend on Valoria with that boy as the acting leader—”

“That boy is a man now,” I growled, tightening my fists. “He is more than capable of handling our army. Just you watch.”

Chief Aryan snorted and grabbed his things. “I’ll head out now. There’s no time to waste. We’ll regroup in ten days here in Marsten.”

“No!” I cut in. “We meet in the Silent Mountains. If we all converge in Marsten, it’s the equivalent of sending Caelan a big banner that we’re about to attack. We need to be strategic.”

Chief Aryan clenched his jaw but nodded before storming out of the room without a backwards glance.

The days seemed to crawl at a tortoise’s pace as everyone waited to hear back from our respective contacts. The inn's restaurant was a quiet hum of activity, the soft clinks of cutlery and low conversations creating a soothing backdrop. I sat at a secluded table near the window, gazing out at Marsten’s bustling streets, feeling oddly detached from it all. My mind was adrift in a sea of battle strategies and royal what-ifs, the weight of my father’s kidnapping pressing down on me like a physical burden.

Just as I took a sip of my lukewarm tea, the chair opposite me scraped back and Mykal slumped down into it, his presence commanding yet weary. He had just returned from Keldara after fleeing Eldwain after the massacre. His face was etched with the same lines of stress that were carved into my own skin.

“Leila,” he greeted, his voice low and even.

“Mykal.” I managed a small smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”

He nodded, a grim set to his jaw. “I got your letter. I came as soon as I could.” His gaze was piercing, searching. “How are you holding up?”

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “As well as can be expected.” I folded my hands on the table. “It’s chaos, Mykal. With the fae involved, it’s going to be a difficult path forward.”

Mykal’s expression softened slightly. “I can imagine. I wish I could offer more than just words.”

I took a deep breath, the reality of my needs pressing against the courtesy of conversation. “Actually, there is something you could help with. Did… did you happen to bring your army?” I peered outside the window hopefully.

Mykal blew out a breath. “No. I did not.”

“Why not?” I blurted. “Didn’t you read my letter? We need—”

He leaned his forearms on the table. “You know Keldara is in the midst of a civil war, Leila. I can’t afford to spare any soldiers for your cause… even if that cause will help everyone in Asteria. If I move my army south, it’ll give the loyalists a window to take over Keldara, and then, we would have helped for nothing.” His voice was sad. “I’m sorry, Leila.”

I slumped in my chair, feeling defeated. We were still waiting to hear from my brother and Avery, but having Mykal be the first to arrive just to shut me down was disappointing.

He considered me a moment, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “But there’s something else I can do… I can give you access to my spy network. You’ll need all the information you can get. Keldara is on the brink of a civil war, and I cannot spare soldiers without risking everything we’ve fought for. But information... that I can provide.”

I exhaled, a wave of gratitude mixing with the ever-present anxiety. “Thank you, Mykal. That could change our chances significantly.”

Mykal leaned back, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer. “Leila, after the war… would you consider...”

I knew what he was leaving unsaid. The air between us thickened, charged with the history of what could have been. I met his gaze, firm in my resolve. “Mykal, I need you to understand something. I’m with Ronan. He’s the one I love, the one I’ll always love.”

Mykal’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes did—a flicker of disappointment perhaps, or resignation. “I understand, Leila,” he said quietly. “But should you ever find yourself reconsidering, you’ll always have a place in Keldara. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” A complex knot of emotions twisted inside me. Gratitude for his offer, sadness for the pain it might cause him, and a reaffirmed love for Ronan.

He stood, ready to leave, but paused. “Stay safe, Leila. And remember, Keldara’s resources are at your disposal, should you need them.”

As he walked away, I watched his retreating figure, feeling the gravity of the coming days.