Alone with the royals and Naari — and the still-sleeping Tipp — Kiva had little choice but to share the events of her night, starting with how she’d been knocked unconscious in the middle of the festival crowd, leaving out the middle part with her siblings, and ending with Caldon’s rescue, the prince chiming in with his own details.
When she was done, her audience began debating what the rebels had sought to achieve with their abduction. Caldon offered some interesting — and incorrect — theories, stating that it might not have been just rebels and claiming to be concerned by the presence of Mirravens during the final attack. Jaren then reminded him that the rebels were recruiting from other kingdoms, but Caldon remained unconvinced, looking to Kiva as if hoping she would jump in and agree with him. But all she could do was shrug and say that she’d been locked away for a decade, so she knew nothing about how the rebels operated.
It wasn’t even a lie.
As their conversation continued, Kiva knew Zuleeka and Torell would want to hear thorough details, but the last few hours were swiftly catching up to her enough that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
The next thing she knew, gentle fingers were tracing her cheekbone, lulling her from her doze. She blinked awake to find Jaren crouching beside where she’d unconsciously curled up on the couch.
“Time for bed,” he whispered.
Kiva didn’t push him away when he helped her up to her feet, nor did she argue when he handed her the vial of poppymilk. She swallowed it in one go, knowing she’d have just enough time to return to the eastern side of the palace and fall into bed before it took effect.
“We’ll see each other again soon,” Queen Ariana told Kiva quietly, kissing her on the cheek.
Kiva was so groggy that she didn’t panic at the show of affection from her sworn enemy, instead mumbling, “Good night,” and watching blearily as Jaren gathered Tipp into his arms.
“Come on, Sunshine, let’s get you to your room before one of us has to carry you across the river,” Caldon said, nudging Kiva toward the door.
Barely able to walk in a straight line, Kiva paid little attention to what Caldon continued saying as he led the way through the palace halls toward the private bridge. But she did wake up just enough to hear him state, “And just in case you missed it earlier, I’m dragging you to the training yard at dawn to work on your nonexistent fighting skills. Next time you hold a blade, I don’t plan on becoming collateral damage.”
Anything he said after that was lost as the poppymilk took hold, the rest of the walk a blur, until Kiva finally collapsed onto her bed fully clothed and fell instantly back to sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, Kiva was rudely awakened. Twice.
The first was when Tipp burst into her room, his panic only easing upon seeing she was all right. Kiva murmured something comforting before tugging him onto her bed and telling him to go back to sleep.
Her next awakening was much less pleasant.
“Wakey, wakey, Sunshine,” Caldon’s voice came from beside her ear.
“Go ’way,” she mumbled sleepily.
“No can do, Sweet Cheeks. It’s time to get you fighting fit.”
He prodded her shoulder, and Kiva swatted at him. As her consciousness returned, she began to recall what he’d said before the poppymilk had kicked in hours ago, something about her working with him in the training yard.
Her eyes shot open to see his smirking face.
“I didn’t agree to anything,” she said.
“I didn’t give you a choice.”
And then he was yanking her out of bed and away from the still-snoring Tipp, who was hugging one of Kiva’s pillows, oblivious to everything around him.
“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed,” Caldon said. “If I have to come back in, I won’t knock first. Feel free not to have any clothes on.”
Kiva tried to hit him with a cushion, but he ducked out of the way, laughing as he left her room.
As much as she wanted to go back to sleep, Kiva decided not to risk the obnoxious prince storming in to dress her himself. Instead, she stumbled to her wardrobe, her vision limited because dawn was barely peeking through her balcony overlooking the Serin River.
Groaning at the early hour, Kiva tried to be grateful that her head, at least, was no longer pounding, the deep slumber having done her a world of good.
She quickly rifled through her clothes, some having been loaned by Princess Mirryn at the winter palace, and more having been waiting upon her arrival in Vallenia. It had been strange at first, wearing anything other than her gray prison tunic. For too long she’d been denied the luxury of choosing her own clothes; even after six weeks of doing so, she still cherished such freedom. But with Caldon’s warning ringing in her ears, she didn’t dally, grabbing a pair of leggings and a loose beige sweater, figuring the basic outfit would serve her best.