Blood Bond

We slipped out of the barn through a smaller side door, Kael checking the surroundings cautiously before gesturing for me to follow. The afternoon sun felt warm after the barn's dimness. We kept off the main track, moving through fields bordering the path that led towards the nearby village.

As we drew closer, sounds drifted towards us—faint music, the murmur of many voices, occasional bursts of laughter. Rounding a bend bordered by cultivated fields, the village came into view.

It was small, houses clustered around a central dirt square, but today the square was alive with activity. Brightly colored ribbons were strung between posts. Rough wooden stalls displayed local produce: apples, root vegetables, woven baskets, simple pottery. Villagers mingled, bartering, laughing, sharing food from stalls roasting some kind of meat over open fires. Children chased each other, their shouts adding to the cheerful din.

In the center of the square, a group performed a lively dance to the tune of a pipe and drum. Near the village well, a local priest, identifiable by his simple robes, seemed to be blessing bundles of grain laid before him. People greeted each other warmly, a couple presented their shy child to others with his hands cupping the top of his chest—a newly revealed Soul Seed, perhaps?

Oh, isn't this their Soul Seed Day celebration? I'd heard of it: villagers would offer their latest harvest to celebrate the gift of souls seeds from Antara, the god of wisdom whose heart was the source of the Wardstone.

This was a world far away from the cold, political ceremony in the mountain temple, from the high-stakes games and horrifying visions. For them, the Soul Seeding was woven into the fabric of simple, everyday life, a reason for communal joy, not terror. The contrast left a hollow ache inside me, a sharp reminder of the gulf between their lives and the monstrous reality I now carried within my chest.

—

Kael kept a firm hand on my elbow, guiding me towards the edge of the bustling square. His eyes scanned the crowd, the rooftops, the alleyways, always wary and alert. My own attention was snagged by the smells drifting from the food stalls. Roasted meat, sharp and savory. Something sweet, like spiced apples baking. It was different from the delicate scents of the palace kitchens, more robust, earthier. My stomach, despite the rough meal in the barn, gave another insistent growl.

Seeming to notice, or perhaps just wanting us to blend in, Kael paused by a stall where chunks of meat and colorful root vegetables sizzled over coals on long wooden skewers. He exchanged a few copper bits—dull, common currency—for two steaming skewers. He handed one to me.

Hesitantly, I took it. The heat radiated against my fingers. I eyed the charred meat, the roasted onions and peppers wedged between. It looked… rustic. Unrefined. But the smell was undeniably good, and the hunger gnawed. I took a bite. The meat was juicy, smoky, the roasted vegetables sweet. It wasn't elegant, but it was deeply satisfying in a way the tiny, perfect pastries back home never were. I took another bite, more eagerly this time.

As we stood there, trying to look like simple travelers enjoying the fair, a gaggle of small children, dusty and barefoot, broke away from a nearby game of chase and clustered around us. Their eyes, wide and curious, fixed on me.

"Yer hair's funny!" one little boy declared, pointing a sticky finger towards me.

"And yer eyes!" added a girl missing a front tooth. "Like shiny green stones!"

My first impulse was to recoil and shoo them away like flies. How dare they stare! A cold dismissal was forming on my lips.

But then I saw Maya, her blue eyes wide with worry, patting my hand in the sterile hospital room. Maya, who would have likely giggled and demanded to touch my hair. The stiffness eased.

"They're just eyes," I said in a tone that felt strangely not me and yet, was.

The children, sensing no real threat, edged closer. The little boy tugged at my rough wool skirt. "Are you a princess?"

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I almost laughed, the sound catching in my throat. If only he knew. "Do I look like a princess?" I asked, gesturing down at my dirt-smudged dress.

"You talk like one!" the little girl insisted stoutly.

Maybe I did. I found myself kneeling, meeting their curious gazes. "Well, perhaps I'm a princess disguised as a goose girl," I offered, echoing some half-remembered fairy tale.

The children giggled. The little boy poked my arm. "Are you magic?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kael watching, his usual wary expression softened by surprise. He stepped closer as I shook my head at the boy. "No, there's just plain me," I said, ruffling the boy's already messy hair.

"Surprising, Your Highness," Kael murmured, his voice low, meant only for me, though his eyes were still scanning the crowd. "You always seemed to... dislike other children."

I straightened instantly, affronted. "I do not!" I snapped before turning back to the kids. "Now, run along before you bother everyone!" I tried to sound stern, but a smile tugged at my lips as they scattered, giggling. The brief, strange interaction left an unexpected warmth in its wake, quickly followed by the familiar unease Kael's comment provoked. Did I hate children? I certainly didn't think so.

"We shouldn't linger," Kael said quietly, his gaze already moving, assessing. "We are here for information, after all." He steered me towards a less boisterous corner where several older men leaned against barrels outside what looked like a tavern, cups in hand, their voices low but audible over the general din.

We pretended to examine a nearby stall selling rough pottery, close enough to listen. The talk wasn't of harvests or festivals.

"...heard the Royal Guards put up a fight, but..." one man muttered into his cup.

"...all quiet now, though," another replied. "The Big Four have it in hand now, they say. They declared Regents..."

Regents? The word sent a chill through me. Father, Mother, Theron... sidelined? Or worse?

"...saw her myself, riding back towards the Keep," a third man added, spitting onto the dirt floor. "High Princess Astrid. Bold as brass, with Valerius's own guard. Looked like she owned the place."

"The Chosen's working with `em?" the first man asked, sounding incredulous. My heart echoed.

"Looks that way. Maybe she saw reason. The old king..."

Astrid? Cooperating? Against her own family. My mind reeled. No. It wasn't possible. They must have had daggers pointed at her back, or Vanda's. Or worse, at Mother or Father's throats. The thought made my body sway. A hand grasped my arm, steadying me. Kael was up close, his face grim, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes hard.

—

Before Kael could pull me away, a voice, cool and familiar, cut through the nearby chatter. "Princess? Oh, goodness me."

We both froze. Standing a few paces away, looking elegant even amidst the rustic festival crowd in a well-cut travelling dress, was Lady Blaire. Her expression was one of polite, almost amused surprise, though her eyes were sharp, assessing.

Kael moved instantly, stepping half in front of me, his hand hovering near where his sword would be if he dared wear one.

Blaire's gaze flickered over my disguise, lingering on the ill-fitting bonnet and my smudged face. A small, knowing smile touched her lips. "That disguise is... rather pathetic, isn't it?" she commented, her voice carrying easily despite the noise. "Did you truly think a bit of dirt could hide those eyes? And your hair..." She gestured dismissively towards my bonnet. "...is already making a bid for freedom."

My face flushed hot with anger and embarrassment. Kael tensed further. There were several men besides Blaire, who had swords sheathed and actual armor. They took a step forward.

Blaire's focus was entirely on me. Her smile faded, replaced by a more serious assessment. "These are troubling, and uncertain times," she said coolly, stepping closer. Her guards moved to envelop us, cutting off any retreat. "And it seems that you're quite wrapped up in it."

"This town is under the domain of my father, the Earl of Moonshade. They are but simple people. There's no need to involve them, or us in high affairs." Her voice turned cold, cutting like ice. The square had gone still and I was now very much aware that all eyes, including the kids, were on us.

"Now that it's too late. You will come with us. Our estate is but an hour away," she said curtly.

Kael looked at me, his expression tight, waiting for my decision, leaving the choice, terrifyingly, mine. Trust Blaire? She was one of my circle, yes, but she had never much approved of me. She had always been serious and pragmatic, silently intolerant of all my shortcomings. Was this another trap? But what choice did we have? I couldn't imagine unleashing the hunger here, amongst the warmth of all these villagers. That little girl with the gapped-teeth was staring at me with saucers for eyes.