by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 22
ELEGANT
Sleep still evaded her, most likely due to the ever present adrenaline pumping through her veins. Besides her, Desan had fallen asleep hours ago. He looked even more innocent when he slept, something that she had not figured possible; his mouth hung open in a small O, and his expression, at last, was peaceful. The peace she saw in him now eased her turmoil, but it had not erased her stress and fear completely. Maybe that was why she could not escape reality for a few hours like the others around her.
Outside, it was still very dark. The moon was out, but its light was interrupted by frequent clouds. She could not see any stars, which disappointed her more than it should have. That had been the only upside to not having branches over her head, but it seemed for tonight, she had lost that comfort as well.
In the distance, she thought she heard a voice call out, but she couldn’t make out the words. Their group, not just including the slaves, was a large one. Another voice answered before it was silent except for the creak of the numerous wagons and carts, along with the muffled sound of horse hooves on grass.
The voices, however, had woken up Desan.
“Wha…?” he said groggily, pulling himself up.
“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” she told him in a gentle voice. She really wanted him to get rid of those bags under his eyes.
Desan didn’t listen to her. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out as much as he could. Behind them, a few other people had woken as well. As far as she could tell, Kiethara had counted two other girls around her age, one man, one woman, and four other boys.
“How long have I been out?” he asked.
“Only a few hours. It’s still dark out, see?”
He followed her gaze out towards the darkened plains, which were now completely flat. The hills were long behind them, as well as Nikkoi.
“How long have you slept?” he asked with a frown.
“I didn’t, actually,” she admitted.
“Kiethara,” he protested.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
Desan mumbled something under his breath and they lapsed into silence.
“Do you know where they are taking us?” the woman behind Kiethara asked, speaking up for the first time. She was surprised that anyone besides Desan was talking to her, for she had come off as a bit mad when they had first put her in this cage…
“My guess is as good as yours,” Kiethara replied. In all honesty, the woman’s guess would probably have been ten times better than hers would have been.
“How many kingdoms are there on the east side?” one of the girls asked.
“Besides Nikkoi? I only know of two,” the man replied.
“Does it really matter where we are being sent?” Desan grumbled. Kiethara smiled.
“Some kingdoms have weaker defenses,” she snapped at him. “Some kingdoms use magic, some don’t. Some just have nicer people and, if I’m blessed, I might see someone I know.”
“Are any of us blessed?” the man asked with a humorless chuckle.
“My father would have never let this happen,” the girl in the back sniffed. She looked to be around twelve.
“Oh? And where is your father now?” a boy called out.
“Dead,” she snapped back.
“So how can you defend his strength if he’s dead?” the boy asked.
“He died defending my mother’s honor!” the girl sniffed again. “I grew up without a father!”
“Oh please,” said the other girl. She was older than the whining girl, but younger than Kiethara. “You’re just another selfish snob. Everybody here has been through much more than you.”
“Says you!” the girl shot back.
“Raise your hand if both of your parents are dead,” the older girl asked in a loud voice.
Everybody but the whining girl raised their hand. Even Kiethara, who felt wretched for lying. It was just so much easier this way.
This shut the younger girl up. The older girl made a smug sound, which caused Kiethara to shake her head in disgust. Foolish girls, fighting to prove themselves, fighting for the most pity, when they should be working together to find a way out of their pathetic situations.
Outside, where the sun was finally beginning to rise, a horse and his rider passed them, headed in the opposite direction. Then, a few minutes later, a small cart pushed by a burly man strode by. Could another kingdom really be that close?
Her guess proved to be correct.
First, a loud call echoed through the early morning. This time Kiethara could make it out. The man screamed at them to halt and all the carts and the wagons slowly rolled to a standstill. Besides her, Desan let out a small, fearful noise. Kiethara reached her hand through the bars and grasped his.
Another shout echoed and then an astonishingly loud clinking of metal broke the early morning silence. The wagons started moving again.
Her view was limited to see only what they had already traveled, but what she did see blew her mind and her sense clear away.
Everything was tinted gold by the rays of the rising sun. The white brick of the fifty foot wall made her cower. Compared to Nikkoi’s wall, which barely made fifteen feet, this kingdom was its own world. They had to transverse over a bridge to reach the massive silver gate, a bridge that was made of superbly polished wooden planks that shone like the surface of a sparkling lake, the silver gate acting as the waterfall from which magnificence tumbled down around them. Kiethara knew of only a few trees in her forest that reached this height, none of which had trucks that could achieve this thickness, for she was sure three carriages could run comfortably side by side atop the mammoth wall. She trembled when cast into its shadow, yet there was nothing to be feared of this wall—for it did not seem like a menacing barrier as Nikkoi’s wall had; no, somehow it seemed to stand as a proud welcome to travelers and enduring protection for citizens. This wall was made of peace, not of war
Numerous guards paced along the gate, wall, and bridge, each heavily armed with both sword and shield, some even strapped with a bow. These men were not positioned to intimidate, however, and, just as the wall, there presence was not ominous, but assuring. Some whistled a merry tune as they strode, others waved up at the drivers of the wagons. When they cast their eyes on the last wagon, her wagon, their expressions flickered to ones of pity, and one even shook his head in disgust.
And that was only the beginning.
As soon as they made their way through the momentous wall, they were cantering on beautiful cobblestone. The road was open and wide, nothing like the dark, narrow passages that she had become accustom to in her first kingdom. Lovely stone houses lined the road they were passing on. Most of them had the same golden hue as the outer wall did, with red tiles for their roofs, while other had walls of orange (or was it red?) with a brown tiled roof. Each was well kept, with curling vines traveling up the sides of the stone and potted flowers on the outside sill, underneath the clear, open windows. Kiethara’s heart swelled in disbelief as parts of her imagination were seen to finally come into tangible proof right before her eyes. This had been what she had dreamed of when others spoke of magnificence, this was what she had expected kingdoms of grandeur to behold. As she was a fairy tale to them, this was a fairy tale to her, the true magic being the elegance omitting from something man made, not grown.
That was the perfect word to describe what had been created here. Elegance. She didn’t dare to blink as they rode on. The houses alongside the road got larger and far grander as they rode further into the kingdom. The stands and markets were also elegant, only holding the most expensive stock to be sold, situated under richly woven tents. The people matched their surroundings like camouflage; the women were dripping in finery and the men were drowning in handsome robes.
On a small scale, this would be impressive, but what pushed this kingdom past all limits was its size. The road they were on continued without any indication that it would reach an end. Their surroundings only achieved even further refin
ement. Some of the homes around them grew to three stories, adorned with columns to support a balcony above. They crossed another street, and the road was suddenly entirely devoted to a market place, which intoxicated Kiethara with its swirling aromas and eye-catching sparkle. She saw and smelt bread rising under a smoky fire; she longed to stroke the roses that were gathered by the bundle in long, ravishing ribbons.
She suddenly wondered—why were they here? It did not make any sense. Hell had never been allowed to stumble into heaven; her dark nightmare had no place in this golden fantasy. These happy people strolling by were like celestial beings, their smiles and laughter sounds she had not heard in a very long time. It was unreal for her to witness such happiness. She and the rest of the slaves did not belong here, that was for certain.
Kiethara’s head spun with each new thing she saw. What splendor! If only she wasn’t looking at it through the bars of a cage. She pushed herself up to them as hard as she could, hoping she could break them, just so she could have even one moment to explore this alien world! Aaron had done the kingdoms no justice in his explanation on how the buildings looked, or how the people acted. Navadar had not embellished his details enough!
“Are you okay?” Desan asked, looking at her as though she were mad.
“No,” she breathed, eyes sparkling.
He laughed.
They rode on and on, further into this bizarre dream of a world, until she had lost complete sense of direction. Only after about an hour did something happen.
The noise around them was increasing in volume rather quickly, while their speed, which had already been at a mighty slow pace, was reduced to a crawl. Throngs of people pushed their way around the wagons and carts. The houses had stopped a few roads back, devoting everything to tents and pavilions. Suddenly, the horses stopped, and from what she could see, they entered a giant square.
The center of the kingdom.
They made awfully slow progress in the crowd; Kiethara was even unsure if they were still traveling over cobblestone, it was so packed. Eventually, when she estimated they had reached the halfway point, the procession turned to the left, and the back of the wagon finally faced everything in the square.
She gasped.
The center of the square played home to a gigantic, golden statue. But this statue really was gold, not just tinted by the sun. It towered over everything that surrounded it, casting a long shadow to the west.
“Redawn,” someone breathed behind her. She hardly heard them.
The statue consisted of three people, all of them facing out, so their backs were pressed together. The first was a woman. Her beauty was as breathtaking as it was fierce. Her hair came down to her chin at a sharp ankle while her tunic flowed to her ankles. She held a bow in her hands, with it pressed against her left hip, her right hand pulling back on an arrow that had been put into place.
The second figure was that of a man. He wore a tunic that fell to his knees. He, too, was beautiful, with long locks falling over eyes that looked determined, even though they were made of gold. He held a sword in his right hand, with his left clenched into a fist.
The last figure was also a man. He was…beautiful, but in a different way than the other two. It was as though the sculptors had purposely tried to make his beauty ugly; a scowl was etched into his strong features, and he himself carried no weapon. His arms were crossed against his tunic.
The details etched into the precious metal were unbelievable. This work of the artist must have taken years, decades, even, to crest something as extravagant as that. Even with magic, this task was no small feat. But this kingdom didn’t use magic.
This was the kingdom of Redawn.
Oh, when he had told her about Redawn, she had wanted nothing more than to follow him out of the forest to see it. It was a marvelous place, just as he had promised, just as he had tried to describe to her. In fact, it was too marvelous.
There was no possible way she could find Navadar in all of this madness. There were too many people, there was too much space, and there were no promises. She had given up on hope a long time ago.
The wagon stopped again, but this time it remained where it was, in one of the far corners of the oversized market place. They had a good view of the rest of the square from here. To her surprise, not a lot of people stopped to goggle at the pack of dirty slaves. Was it a sight they were used to, or one that they did not wish to see?
“Amazing,” Desan said, a bit too simply.
“That is Kika, Lince, and Narco, the—”
“The founders of Redawn, from the legend,” Kiethara finished.
“You’ve heard the myth?” the man behind her asked.
“Myth? I thought it was true?”
“That’s what the people of Redawn say. They can’t prove that’s its true, though.” His tone told her he was not one who believed.
“Legend?” Desan asked excitedly.
“Want to hear?” she asked him, smiling.
“Yes!”
Kiethara opened her mouth to begin the enthralling tale, worrying that she might not get it right, but she stopped short when two men appeared before her cage. She turned to face them warily.
“Come on, luv,” the man to the right said with a grin, unlocking her cage and pulling her out.
Her bare feet made a soft smack against the cobblestone. Her knees almost buckled as she straightened up, legs wobbling. Her tired mind found it humorous that she would have to get used to walking again.
The man who held her led her around the wagon until they were facing a wooden platform that had been raised a good few feet off the ground. A stairwell had been attached to the right side. Behind it was a building that was not nearly as nice as any of the others that she had seen so far, yet it still outshone anything that Nikkoi had to offer. It was all wood, no stone, and it gave the appearance of being rather…empty. There was no sign of life around it, as though it gave off a bubble that did not allow the hustle and bustle of the kingdom folk to come near it.
The man opened the door and pushed her in. It was dark inside, and surprisingly musty. She stumbled forward, the wooden floor littered with strands of hay. What was this place?
Behind her she heard more footsteps, and then the room was suddenly light. Someone must have lit a torch, but the extra luminosity did the room no good. It was wood and hay, nothing more. And so empty, compared to the magnitude of people just beyond its walls. The thought depressed her a bit.
Desan stumbled into her then, sending both of them to the floor.
“Watch it there, mate!” one of the men called, and they both started howling in laughter.
“Stop standing there and move, ye fools!” a sharp voice called out. Kiethara recognized it to be the lady who had washed her. The rest of the slaves were being led into the room, most of them looking the way she felt. Kiethara pulled herself off the wood floor with a moan.
“Sorry!” Desan squeaked.
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him with a forced smile. More slaves continued into the room. More than she remembered…had there been another wagon full of them?
“So rude!” the younger, whining girl huffed as she was pushed next to them.
“Do you want them to fetch you a gown and some warm chocolate, little miss?” the other girl asked sarcastically.
“No, I want you to shut your mouth, ijit!” the girl hissed back.
That comment seemed to finally push the other girl over the edge. Not seeming to care that her hands were tied behind her back, the girl threw herself at the other. Both of them were sent to the floor with a horribly loud thud. Screams erupted from all around, some of them encouraging, and then a roar issued from the man who had been watching them. He ran forward in an attempt to separate the two girls, who had taken to biting and kicking themselves as they rolled on the floor. Another woman burst back into the room, letting loose a long stream of words in an unfamiliar language. Even to Kiethara, who hardly understood anything in this wor
ld, it came off as something not very nice.
It took quite a while to separate the two surprisingly vicious girls. When they were finally torn apart they were separated to opposite sides of the room, where they were further bound and gagged. Kiethara thought that was punishment enough, but each girl received a round of kicks as further reprimand. Kiethara felt bad at the relief coursing through her body that it, for once, had not been her receiving the extra punishment.
“Now,” said one of the women who had come to help. Kiethara recognized her from her wash in the river. “If anyone thinks they can get away with something like that, they better think twice. Ye will get more than a beating, I promise ye that.
“We are going to get started here very soon. I want ye all on yer best behavior. That means no screams, no tears, and no comments. Keep anything to yerself.”
She paused to glare at each and every one of them. Her gaze seemed to linger a little longer on Kiethara.
“Boys will go first, then men. After that will be the girls, followed by the women. I’m going around asking ye some questions, so have yer answers ready.”
The woman started on the other side of the room. As soon as she finished with the first boy, he was sent out of the room. Alarmed, Kiethara turned to Desan.
He looked back at her with wide eyes, which were filled with naked panic.
“It’s going to be okay,” she promised him, swallowing her own fear.
“I won’t ever see you again.”
He did not state it as a question, he stated it as a fact; a very cold and bitter fact that she knew to be true. No, there had never been any hope, but she still wanted to pretend there was another option.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you,” Kiethara told him. The spunk in her voice might have come off as a bit false, but Desan gave her a watery smile anyway.
“No tears,” she said quickly. “No matter what, you have to stay strong. I don’t care what fool you get sold to. You hear me?”
He nodded.
“Good.”
“Thank you,” he said after a minute. She nudged him with her newly scrubbed foot.
“No problem.”
They were silent for a moment. Really, it was cruel how fast you could gain someone as a friend, when you could lose them even faster. If she was smart, she should make a vow never to care for anything again. That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much.
Unable to look at Desan now, she turned her head away from him. What would he say if she broke down in front of him, after she had just ordered him to stay strong?
The woman came up to him and started asking him questions. Kiethara didn’t listen; she couldn’t. Desan got up, but Kiethara could still not look at him.
“B-Bye,” he stuttered. She could hear him choking back tears and she could not blame him. He was only a nine year old boy, about to be sold to someone who would have complete and utter control over him. A nine year old boy who had made a friend who wouldn’t even tell him goodbye because it was just too painful for her to handle.
Desan could not linger, he could not ask her why, for the lady was soon pushing him out the door. Kiethara, disgusted with herself, looked up at last with an apology etched all over her face, but she was too late.
He was gone, and it was too late for regrets.
A loud voice echoed outside, followed by numerous calls. Kiethara’s stomach dropped at the sound of the crowd. Who would she be sold to? Fear bubbled in her chest as more and more people were shoved out the door.
“Name?” a voice asked, making her jump clear out of her skin.
“Kiethara,” she told the woman grudgingly.
“Ah, the feisty one. Be prepared to take more baths like that, dearie,” the woman told her. Kiethara scowled.
“Age?”
“I don’t know,” Kiethara said bluntly, sticking her chin out.
Being slapped across the face was not something Kiethara would ever get used to. Her eyes watered and she tasted blood in her mouth.
“Age?” the woman repeated calmly.
“Fifteen,” Kiethara wheezed.
“Virgin?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me this question?!” Kiethara yelled in frustration. Everyone went quiet around her. Someone whispered the word insane.
“Ye…do know what it means?” the lady asked with a mocking smile.
“Yes!” Kiethara said in an exasperated tone. It had been a long and painful conversation with Aaron. The memory still made her cheeks flame.
“Well, most men prefer a…clean woman, if ye understand what I’m saying,” the woman explained with a nasty smirk. “So answer me question.”
“Yes.”
“Skills?”
“I don’t have any,” Kiethara replied quickly. Maybe they would let her go.
“I didn’t think so. That’s why I left yer bracelets on, it will sell ye quicker. I don’t know what we’re going to do about that scar, though,” the woman said, glaring at her as though it were her fault.
“My bad,” she said sarcastically, glaring back.
“All right, follow the other girls,” she ordered. Kiethara looked up to see three girls lined up by the door. Two of them had been the ones who had been fighting, both sporting nasty bruises.
Kiethara stood up, blinking as a wave of dizziness made her sway. Her lack of…well, everything, was catching up to her. She went to stand behind them, her heart racing painfully. She looked around for an escape, but there was none. With sudden inspiration, she pulled the tie out of her hair and it fell down her back. Perhaps if she didn’t look like a normal girl, no one would buy her.
The woman came up and opened the door, beckoning them through. They all filed through without a word, Kiethara following suit with a sickening feeling as she stepped out into the morning sun.
The stage was directly to the right of them. A man stood on the stage already, but it was obvious he was not a slave, for he wore nice robes and a bright smile. In front of the stage was an enormous gathering of people, all who were focused on the smiling man.
It was the size of the crowd that made her panic—Kiethara lost her sense and took off past the girls in one last frenzied attempt to get away. The surrounding women were fast, though, and they all pounced to grab a part of her and drag her back into the line.
“We need to sell her first before she unsettles the lot!” the woman shouted up at the stage. The man nodded.
Kiethara was dragged forward, her heels trying to find purchase against the ground. No, this was not going to be the end! A fresh wave of determination took over her, supplemented by panic and fear. Ignoring all feelings of fatigue, she thrashed ferociously.
The women grunted as they wrestled with her all the way to the stage. She didn’t know how, but one of the women managed to grapple her up the stairs and onto the stage, so now their struggle was being witnessed by thousands of people.
“As you can see, this one hear is a rather feisty young girl,” the auctioneer boomed. “Fifteen years of age, brown hair, and pretty blue eyes. She’s a special one, too, look! She comes with her own two golden bracelets! Nice green crystals in ‘em, fine specimens…”
Kiethara stopped listening to the man, fraught with her task of attempting to pull herself free. She looked up at the overwhelming crowd. Something was calling her eyes to look, to see an escape…
And there she saw it.
What had caught her attention at first was the beautiful buckskinned horse that was strolling lazily through the square. On top of the horse was a girl brimming with elegance, her dirty blond hair held up in a bun, sparkling with pins in a very surreal way.
This was not what made her heart stop, though.
It was the young man striding next to them. Her eye was immediately drawn to the head of shaggy blond hair, just as golden as his surroundings were, mimicking their tone to perfection. His white shirt and brown trousers flowed with him as he walked, a walk that even came off as familiar to her.
“N-Navadar?” she stuttered in disbelief. She stopped thrashing.
As soon as the name was out of her mouth, the person besides the horse looked up, just as the girl on the horse gestured something. Even through the sea of people she found herself looking directly into green eyes. Green eyes that widened in horror.
“Let the bidding begin!” the auctioneer cried, desperately trying to regain the attention of the audience, whom had been watching her with amused expressions.
“Five pieces o’ gold!” one man cried out.
Kiethara continued to stare back. He stopped short, so abruptly that the girl above him almost lost her balance.
“Going once, going twice…” the auctioneer warned.
“Ten pieces of gold!” Navadar called out. The girl on the horse gasped.
“Going one—”
“Fifteen!” the other man screamed.
“Thirty!” Navadar yelled back.
“Going once, going twice, SOLD! To the man with the horse and the lady! Come, collect your prize!”
The bindings on Kiethara’s hands disappeared. Tired, dehydrated, injured, and sure she was hallucinating, she stumbled off the stage and into the crowd.
The people were impatient with her. They pushed her to the side of the throng, not happy to be interrupted as they continued to watch the stage. She noticed it was mostly men in the crowd, though several well clothed women stood out with their necks craned. Young children pointed at her, but Kiethara averted her eyes, focusing on not tripping as her vision blurred periodically.
He was fighting through the crowd, too. She stumbled towards the houses, were the crowd thinned slightly. He himself was weaving expertly through the people, almost as though he was passing right through the mass of bodies, and then he reached her in what seemed matter of seconds.
“What the blazes are you doing here?!” Navadar asked her in a hysterical tone, taking her by the tops of her arms and pulling her aside from the crowd. “What are you doing in Redawn, being sold as a slave?!”
“N-Navadar?” she asked in a whisper. It really was him, oh!
“Are you insane?! Have you lost your mind?! The forest is miles from here! I thought you said you couldn’t leave!”
“I-I didn’t! Not w-willingly,” she stuttered.
“What?” Navadar asked, staring. He looked utterly bewildered. “You mean…Gandador?”
“It wasn’t this time, actually,” she said, shaking her head.
“Then who…?”
“Navadar, I have other enemies than Gandador,” she smiled faintly. “How do you think I got this?”
Kiethara held out her right arm, where a light pink scar trailed down the length of it. Navadar stared at it in shock.
“That? Well, you wouldn’t really tell me much about it. You said Gandador’s servant did that, or something,” he reminded her.
“Oh, yes, you’re right…” she sighed, a bit confused.
“So that’s who kidnapped you?” he asked.
“No, it was four men, Navadar. They couldn’t use magic, but they had this crystal and it took away all my power…!” she explained quickly, her voice rising in panic. She needed him to know, so he could watch for their return…
“Four men?” he repeated. She nodded.
“They could drain you of your power?” he asked quietly. She tried to nod again, but her head would not work. She looked at him and blinked.
“Kiethara, when was the last time you’ve slept? Or eaten?”
“I…don’t remember,” she slurred.
“Kiethara—”
“NAVADAR!” a shrill voice called out.
Kiethara jumped, raising her head to see the girl on the horse, looking at them with a very annoyed expression.
“Coming, Trinnia!” he called back.
“Who’s Trinnia?” she asked. He ignored her.
“Can you walk?” he asked in a doubtful tone.
“Of course I can walk,” she said, tripping forward. He sighed.
They made their way towards the horse together, Navadar keeping one hand on her arm, as though he expected her to collapse on him. She was slightly offended—she wasn’t weak—but her thoughts were spiraling too much in confusion to do anything about it.
“What are you doing?” the girl demanded as they approached. “Why, in the king’s name, did you buy a slave? Your father will be furious!”
“Trinnia, this is Kiethara. Kiethara, meet Trinnia.” Navadar said loudly, shooting the girl an annoyed look.
“H-hello,” Kiethara stammered.
“Some slave, I might add. She doesn’t even look like she’d be any help! Those bracelets look valuable, though.” Trinnia’s brown eyes glinted greedily as she stared at them.
“I’d like to see you try to take them!” Kiethara snapped. Who did this pathetic weasel think she was?
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you good for nothing—”
“Let’s go, Trinnia,” Navadar interrupted. He took the horses reins and gave them a tug, tightening his grip on Kiethara before starting down the busy road.
They traveled deeper into Redawn. If possible, the kingdom seemed to grow even more exquisite then she had seen on the trip to the square. Now, she really was looking at Redawn without the bars of a cage in her way. Yet she could not appreciate her surroundings as much as she desired too. All she could focus on was her fight against her swimming head, throbbing legs, and heavy eyes. Navadar was helping her as much as he could. Twice he stopped her from walking straight into a cart and even more times did he have to maneuver her away from the rampant crowd. He looked down at her with pained eyes and an apologetic expression, and every time she saw that she tried to pick her shoulders up a little more.
By the time they approached a magnificent, superlative house, she was no longer able to keep her eyes open for more than a fraction. Instead, she let Navadar do all the steering. What she did manage to get a glimpse of was white brick and three stories of grandiosity. Kiethara should have known that Navadar lived in a small mansion.
Navadar helped Trinnia off the horse, and then he began walking towards the house, tugging Kiethara along.
“Where are you taking her?” she asked indigently.
“My room,” he answered.
“Scandalous,” she muttered.
He ignored her. He opened the door and gently pulled her through it, closing it behind them. She desperately tried to keep her eyes open so she could see what his home looked like.
As soon as the door clicked shut, however, Navadar swept her up into his arms. She fell limp against his chest, every ounce of fight she had left in her diminished. Slowly, he walked her up a flight of stairs, kicking a door open.
“I’m so sorry,” Navadar said as he laid her down on something very soft. Something she had never felt before. She could not open her eyes.
Navadar threw something warm and heavy over her.
“Nav…” she mumbled.
“No, Kiethara. Don’t talk. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Sleep,” he ordered.
She sighed.
“Kiethara?”
“Hmm?” she murmured, rolling her head towards her name.
“I love you.”
The words gave her a sudden strength. She opened her eyes, fatigue forgotten for just a moment, and parted her lips.
“I love you as well,” she managed.
Her vision blurred, flickered, and then went black, along with her consciousness.
