by Liam Reese
In front of them, the stranger was led to stand, and his head was low, and his hands were loose at his sides.
Thorn stood in front of more people than he cared to count; more people than he had ever imagined standing in front of; more people than he cared to acknowledge existed, and so he fixed his eyes somewhere above them, and tried to control the hammering of his heart, and swallowed hard.
His throat was not dry.
There was no magic here to get him out of this.
“I don’t — I don’t want to do this,” he said. “This is my last refuge. I’ve been chased from everywhere — I can’t stand to be chased from here, now.” He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut. “I’m so tired of running from the human race.”
“Thorn,” said Irae, “trust me.”
He wondered if she would ever stop asking him to do impossible things.
Then he opened his eyes, opened his mouth, and let the truth fall out.
They say that there are those who are cursed from birth, those who carry the marks and disfigurements of a disease they don’t have; those who bear abilities and powers beyond human comprehension.
I am one of them.
I am of the Forged. I have the power to change, to alter, living creatures from one to another. I have been claimed as cursed; I have been chased from one home after another. But I have never Forged from a desire to hurt or to kill, only to change, or to protect, or to strike a blow for righteousness sake.
I have not always done what I should.
But I have always tried to do what is right.
There is a change coming — I’ve seen it. Whether it happens tonight or whether it happens seven years from now, there is always a recovery from what has been done.
No matter what and who we are, there is always the chance that we can get better. Be better. Do better.
I have been an instrument of the Queen. I have followed orders. She, too, has made mistakes, and she, too, has always tried to do what is right.
I hope that all of us can say the same.
And if not — may we change. May we alter. May we get better, be better, do better.
I am of the Forged.
This is my curse.
When it was over, she took him by the hand and led him to a warm room, and sat him beside a fire, to let him thaw out. He was shaking, from the cold or from speaking to everyone, she wasn’t sure. She put a blanket around him, tucking it in, and he sat quiescent for a moment before struggling his hands out of it to tap rhythmically in his lap.
She sat beside him and hummed.
“I still don’t quite know how this is going to make everything all right,” he said eventually. “It just seems as though it’s created even more problems.”
“I know. I know.” She patted his knee beneath the blanket. “Again, you will just have to trust me.”
“I do,” he muttered, yanking on a thread at the edge of the cloth and unraveling a portion of it. “I do, you know.” Almost defiant this time.
“I think my father would be proud,” she said, thoughtfully. “It isn’t what he would do, of course. But I think he would be proud all the same.”
They sat together and listened to the roaring of the fire.
“I forget, you know,” he said, tugging slightly at the ends of his hair. “I forget that you have no family. You and I — we’re more alike than we admit to, aren’t we?”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Irae, tucking herself more securely against the back of her chair and stifling a yawn. “I do have a family, as far as I concerned — and you have the same.”
“Family is belonging somewhere,” he said.
“Yes,” said the Lady Irae, “and I belong with my people, and you belong with us.” she folded her hands together in front of her, pretending it was his hand that she held, his fingers laced through hers. She couldn’t very well reach for him, not now, not after what had so recently transpired. Oh, he had been so frightened — she could see it. All those people. Telling them the truth about who and what he was. Waiting to be chased away again. The thought of it made her ache in the pit of her stomach, and she wished she could take it back, or blot it out, or get rid of it another way. Dig the memories out and set them on fire, maybe. The fact that it was her own fault made it that much worse. But he didn’t seem to be plagued by it the way she was, so perhaps it wasn’t quite such a big deal as she had feared. Or perhaps it was, and she wouldn’t find out till much later. That seemed more likely. “That isn’t going to change, no matter what else does.”
“Oh, no?” said Thorn, but his voice was gentle, and it sounded less as though he were challenging her statement and more as though he wanted further reassurance. So, she squeezed her hands together a little tighter.
“No,” she said. “I promise.”
I, Irae, December Queen of Ainsea, Regess of Balfour, do heretofore abdicate my position on the throne. In so doing, I recognize that in accordance with the law and tradition of my kingdom and my people, it is time to allow a new house to rise and to reign in Ainsea. The noble house of Merundi will serve faithfully in my stead. If God wills, let the new calendar be the sign of a bright future.
For the good of the people. For peace and prosperity. For the new year.
Long live the January King.
End of Book 3 – Please Read This
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Steeled
(Thorned: Book 3)
Liam Reese
© 2018
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
