Chapter 7 Kaelen

“Pick it up.”

“I’m tired.”

“I said pick it up.”

I stare at my father. His eyes are as cold as ice, completely devoid of any sympathy.

My gaze drops to the wooden stick lying in the dirt. It's barely more than a branch carved into the shape of a sword, yet it feels impossibly heavy. My arms shake as I bend down and wrap my fingers around it.

“Now,” he says. “Start again.”

I force myself into position. He doesn't give me a chance to breathe. The wooden sword crashes against mine, sending vibrations through my aching arms. I barely block the next strike before another comes. And another.

He's faster. Stronger. Every swing forces me backward. I miss one block and pain explodes across my ribs as his practice sword slams into my side, knocking me to the ground.

“Get up.” I stay where I am, struggling to breathe. “Get up.” My legs tremble as I push myself upright.

He attacks. Again. I fall. Again. He makes me stand. Again.

The sun climbs higher overhead. Sweat stings my eyes. My hands blister around the rough wood. My muscles burn until every movement feels impossible. Still…

“Again.” I swing. He parries without effort. “Again.”

I lunge. He knocks the sword from my hands. It lands several feet away.

“Pick it up.” I don't move.

“I can't.”

“You can.”

“I... I'm tired.” His expression never changes.

“Pick it up.”

I stumble toward the sword. My vision blurs. The moment my fingers close around it, my knees give out. The world spins and darkness rushes in.

♦♦♦

Cold. The freezing stone beneath me steals the warmth from my body. I open my eyes. Everything is dark.

A faint beam of moonlight slips through iron bars high above, barely illuminating the room.

Then I hear it. Hiss…  Another. Then another. My breathing catches.

Snakes.

They're everywhere. They slither across the floor. They coil around broken stones. They weave over one another in an endless sea of scales.

I scramble backward until my back slams against the damp stone wall. Something brushes against my ankle.

I freeze. Then his voice echoes through the dungeon.

“You are too weak.” My head jerks upward. I can't see him. Only hear him. “The world is full of snakes.” A loud hiss fills the silence. “They hide behind smiles. They wait for weakness. They strike without warning.”

Another snake glides toward me. Its tongue flicks in and out.

“If you cannot survive a room full of snakes...” His voice hardens. “...then you are not worthy of becoming my crown prince.”

“No...” I whisper.

The snake stops only a few feet away. It slowly raises its head. Its eyes lock onto mine. It coils. My heart pounds. Then it launches straight at my face.

"No!"

I bolt upright with a gasp. My chest rises and falls in frantic breaths. Sweat clings to my skin.

Moonlight pours through the bedroom window. No dungeon. No snakes. Just the soft sheets wrapped around me. And the sound of my own breathing.

I press a trembling hand against my chest, trying to steady my breathing. But even awake, I can still hear his voice.

"You are too weak."

I shake the thought away and stand up. It wasn’t my first time having this dream. I’d been having it every time I slept since I survived the dungeon of snakes. Instinctively, my hand goes to my neck where the scar from the first snake bite still sat. I sigh.

I make my way to my study. Voices drift over the corridor. Who was awake? I find the door to the study ajar. Roan stands inside.

“Roan.” He turned, his eyes skimming over me.

“Another bad night?” He asked. I nodded. Only Roan knew how bad my nightmares were. Particularly because he was always by my side.

“I heard voices. Was someone here?”

“Someone broke in.” I raise a brow.

“Broke in?”

“Yes.”

“Who’d dare?”

“A girl. I didn’t get her name. But I can identify her. She claimed she had come to return Emrys’ paintbrush, but guessed which room was his and ended up here.” He held out something.

I take it. It’s a paintbrush. But if it’s Emrys’ it’ll have the royal crest stamped at the base. I search for it, finding it exactly where it should be.

“It’s Emrys’,” I say.

“Yes it is.”

“How did she get it? These things are like gold to him. He wouldn’t just leave it with anyone.”

“My thoughts exactly. But it’s hard to imagine she stole it either.”

“Emrys would have noticed it was missing and made a fuss.” Emrys was emotionally attached to his paintbrush. Just no one could have it.

“Exactly.”

“So? Where is she?” I ask. Roan freezes.

“She’s…” Realization hits me. He let her go.

“You let her go?”

“I apologize,” he says, bowing his head slightly. Roan. The sworn blade to the crown. Let some girl who’d broken into the heirs wing past curfew go. Fishy. Very fishy.

I tap into our link and feel his heart rate. It’s rapid. His heart must be pounding. The corner of my lips lift into a smirk.

“You like her.” Roan’s eyes widened. That was all the confirmation I needed. “Yup! You like her.”

“Of course not, Your Highness. She could be a threat. I’ll take care of it and report back to you.”

“Will you?” I tease. “The Sword Blade Roan, my protector, has a crush? Woah. I never thought I’d leave long enough to see this.” I grin.

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Then why would you let her go? The Roan I know would have her tied to a chair in minutes, sword in hand, ready to force answers out of her. But you let her go.”

“The academic session just began. I didn't want to create any situations for the Crown.”

“If that’s the reason, why is your heart beating so fast? We are connected, Roan. Don’t forget.”

“Fuck,” I hear him curse in his mind. He really did like her. Crazy.

“I apologize for letting her go, Your Highness. It won’t happen again.” I nod. Roan was good at keeping his personal feelings separate from his duty to the crown. I trusted him to continue to do the same.

“Look into the matter. Discreetly. We have to be sure it’s something we don’t need to be worried about. Although I doubt that some student breaking into the Heirs’ Wing isn’t something to worry about,” I said.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And also… don’t fall in love with a student. Please.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Any other thing I need to be briefed on?”

“Yes. The Empress. She sent a message.”

“What does mother want?” I ask, annoyance creeping into my voice. Roan hesitates for a moment.

“Your father. He’s dying.”