Into the Unreal

4. Kiria

4

Kiria

“I can’t believe you were communicating with that Tanyu!” Kiria’s mother muttered, setting down her coffee. The cup rattled in the dish. “It was entirely unsafe.” Light from the ceiling-high windows of her bedroom crowned her.

“But look what we got from it,” Kiria replied. Technically she’d gotten very little yet from talking with Firian, but she had a decent idea of the Academy’s location as well as his promise to end the wars.

Her mother shook her head, flinging the unpleasant thoughts away like water droplets.

The palace had buzzed with the news of Kiria’s first session, both the ill-planned attack and her announcement about an alliance. Sessions in the Main were usually guarded secrets, but people weren’t guarding their words as closely as they should. At least if quick silences and pointed glances were any indication.

Taking another drink of lukewarm coffee, Kiria eyed her mother. She had something on her mind, though Kiria couldn’t figure out what it was. An eager, abstracted look kept flitting across her mother’s face. It made a stark contrast to her usual demeanor of resigned grace.

“Now that you are the Keeper,” her mother began, as though she’d practiced.

Kiria took a protective sip.

“You need to think about marrying.”

Fighting not to cough, Kiria swallowed. “Now?” she asked. She was still eighteen. In all the excitement of the past year, she’d barely given marriage a passing thought. For a second, she envied Kader, Cúron’s son, who was too young to be pestered about such things.

“As soon as possible. It’s the best way to secure the Second Line.” Her mother folded her hands in her lap. “Is there anyone you have an eye on?”

The way she asked the question suggested she wanted to be in on the secret to make up for Kiria’s excluding her before.

A brief image of sitting with Firian on the night-dark wooden walkways of Shifra came back to her. He had leaned in, brushed back her hair, breathed against her mouth… She shook off the unwanted memory as a servant approached to refresh her coffee with some newly boiled. Firian had betrayed her almost immediately afterward. It didn’t matter that they’d shared a moment, had almost kissed. “No,” she replied.

Her mother’s face fell a little. “Well, there are plenty of men interested in getting to know you. You should invite some of them here, or even host a party to meet them.”

“I’m sure there are.” Kiria wasn’t using her Beauty now, but she knew how alluring it was.

“You don’t have to decide today or this week,” her mother said, “but it would help the Kingdom accept you as their leader if you showed a dedication to continue the family line.”

Would it, though? Would marriage prevent unrest like they saw at the session? It seemed unlikely. A small part of her was insulted that her mother would play on her weaknesses like that. But maybe she was right. Marriage was a good idea. Before, Kiria was too young to consider it seriously, and then she was swept up in the danger of assassination when Firian had to be called in as a bodyguard.

Kiria tipped her mouth. Her mother never meant to hurt her. They were each other’s only family left. Kiria couldn’t let small things come between them.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

Her mother’s smile turned mischievous. “I have a couple young men in mind that you might like.”

Curious, Kiria struggled to think of who they might be. “Who?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Kiria,” her mother said lightly. “I know you’ve never been very interested in the guards or ambassadors’ sons.” Her face fell just long enough that Kiria could tell she was remembering her own husband, a general. The pause lasted long enough for memories to clog their throats before passing away again. “In fact,” she continued, “part of me is glad. A Beauty like yours can be dangerous if used the wrong way.”

Kiria nodded, waiting for the names of her mother’s suggested young men.

“Have you met General Madola’s son Warrick?”

She struggled to remember. The vague image of a tall, thin boy flitted across her memory. “Once, I think.”

“What about him?”

She considered. “I’d have to meet him again.” She accidentally allowed a slight grimace on her face as she spoke.

“Or what about Tierney Oscal?”

“I’d rather marry Jori!” Every time Kiria saw Tierney, he ogled her openly and she’d caught him more than once making bawdy comments to his friends.

“Don’t joke,” her mother said, frowning. “He comes from a noble family that has donated generously to help Brithnem through the years.”

“I know who he is,” Kiria said pointedly. “Have you met him? Aren’t Keepers supposed to stay pure until marriage? Stay true just to one person?”

Her mother blushed. “Yes! Is he…? If he’s like that, then of course I wouldn’t recommend him. But his family…”

“Not everyone is like their family.” A meaningful hush fell between them, and Kiria took a final swig of coffee.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. A guard stepped inside. “Pardon me, my lady,” he said, addressing her mother before turning to Kiria. “My Keeper, the scouts have arrived.”

The cup clattered in the saucer as Kiria stood. “Where are they?” She could feel her mother’s gaze on her, scrutinizing her enthusiasm, but she didn’t care.

“They’re meeting with Keeper Cúron and one of the military strategists now.”

“Take me there.” How is Cúron always the first to know? She turned to her mother, who still sat. “I need to go.”

“Yes,” her mother replied, arching her eyebrows. But then she softened. “You’re right. You should go. I hope we all hear good news.”

With a nod, Kiria swept out the door, donning her Beauty as she went. The scouts were convening in the dining room, which sometimes doubled as a small meeting chamber. She arrived in a rush.

Three scouts, still dirty from travel, sat at the table. Two men and one woman. Cúron and Petra Madola sat opposite them. The scouts stopped talking when they saw Kiria, hastening to their feet.

“Ah, I’m glad you could join us!” Cúron exclaimed. He didn’t stand.

A guard emerged from his post by the door to pull out a seat for her. She sat and regarded the scouts who appeared weary but unhurt. The woman pushed a shock of white-blonde hair out of her face, revealing one empty-looking eye. Kiria inspected them for bruises, cuts, anything that would indicate that Firian was less than his word. A tinge of fear colored the smaller man’s face, but she was used to that look. It faded with time and exposure to her Beauty. A bearded man sat on the other side of the woman, his positively cheerful demeanor a marked contrast to the others.

Kiria addressed him. “Did you reach the Academy?”

“We did, My Keeper.” He reached into his travel-stained coat and pulled out a map, which he laid on the table. He jabbed a calloused finger at the forest just north of Raewhith, where Kiria had gone with Firian when they had been attacked.

Her stomach warmed and the corners of her mouth lifted. Just as she thought.

“We’ll have it added to all the official maps,” Cúron said, as the man kept jabbing with his finger.

Petra waved to see the paper more closely, and the bearded scout passed it to her.

“Did you see the new Tanyuin Head?” Kiria asked. She didn’t glance at Cúron, but knew that he’d have a reaction to her question. Firian’s conduct toward the scouts would either support or weaken her announcement of an alliance. Despite everything, she had acted like she trusted him.

For a second, she wondered where Atty was. Had he gotten the same message she had?

“We did,” the Khelê woman replied. Her words came out measured and slow, almost like a question.

“What did he say?” Kiria was getting impatient. She didn’t want to ask any leading questions, but rather to hear their version of events first, the true version.

“He wants to end the Tanyuin War,” said the bearded one with a smile.

Kiria realized how heavily her heart had been beating. Heat flushed her cheeks.

“He said,” the woman added, as though to clarify.

“He wrote out terms.” The thin man nodded, and another paper appeared from the bearded man’s jacket.

Kiria took it before the others, feeling almost greedy. The terms. What had Firian said? He wanted to end their war and help with their conflict against the Torithians, as long as he could keep the prisoners of war. That was it, right?

Her mind whirled. She tried to focus on the paper. It lacked the niceties that usually came with diplomatic documents, but cut straight to the point. As she read, she could practically hear Firian’s voice. There were no extra demands. All was exactly as he had promised. It looked as though, for now, it really was a new age for the Tanyu.

She fought to control her excitement. Her mother and the rest of Brithnem would have to respect her decision now. The gambit had paid off. One war was over, and she could engineer the end of the second with Firian’s help.

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to see Firian, but she couldn’t get ahead of herself. Instead, she beamed a huge smile and handed the paper deliberately to Cúron.