Openly hostile, causing damage to villages and loss of life . . . Kiva pushed the words away, certain there had to be an explanation. Her brother led the rebels’ forces, and Tor wouldn’t allow senseless violence without good reason.
“Why didn’t Ashlyn use your armies to stop the rebels?” Kiva asked.
“It was too late,” Jaren said. “They’d had too much time to gain a foothold and build their following. Years and years of quietly adding to their numbers and spreading out over Evalon and beyond made it impossible to hunt them all down and end their movement entirely. But Ash did what she could to defend against them, protecting our people from the worst of their attacks. Protecting the rebels, too, from themselves. Even if they didn’t realize. Or didn’t care.”
Kiva wondered what her siblings would think of Jaren’s words, whether they’d offer a defense. But then a familiar sparring pair caught her eye, and her mind was pulled back to Caldon as she watched him and Naari across the training yard, their swords blurring.
“What happened to him?” Kiva asked quietly.
“Nothing,” Jaren answered, just as quietly. “And that’s the problem. He’s doing nothing with his life; he has no purpose, no direction. Before the accident, all his time was spent training and studying to become the next general, but now he won’t even set foot in any of the army camps. And he hasn’t seen his sister in three years — not since she took up her position. Whenever Ashlyn comes to Vallenia, Cal always finds an excuse to be elsewhere. It’s as if he’s avoiding anything that might remind him of their parents.”
“But he seems so . . .” Kiva searched for the right word, before settling on, “Carefree.”
Jaren said nothing for a long moment, watching his cousin spar with Naari. “Sometimes the people who act like they don’t care are really the ones who care the most. They feel so much that it overwhelms them, and to keep from falling apart, they hide behind easy smiles and quick laughter, acting like nothing matters. It’s a defense mechanism, a way to protect themselves from the world. A way to keep from getting hurt.”
“It’s unhealthy,” Kiva said, though she was hardly one to judge, given that she’d made an art out of pushing people away in order to protect herself.
“Maybe,” Jaren said, turning and indicating for Kiva to follow again. “But people process emotions in different ways. Until Cal is ready to deal with what happened, all we can do is be there for him, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he can sometimes be.”
“Sometimes?” Kiva murmured, but the insult was only half-hearted. She hated that the rakish prince had lost his parents so young, relating in ways she wished she couldn’t. Equally, she hated that she felt such empathy for him, since it would only make her own mission all the more difficult.
What was with these Vallentis princes? Why did they have to pull on her heartstrings so deeply? Why did they have to be so . . . so . . .
Kiva didn’t allow herself to finish the thought, slamming the door shut on that part of her mind.
“Truly, though,” Jaren said, reclaiming her attention, “I meant what I said earlier — you don’t have to train with him if you don’t want to. You don’t have to train with anyone.”
“What do you think I should do?” Kiva asked.
Jaren thought over his answer as he led her through the rest of the barracks and out onto the gravel path. “If something like last night ever happens again, I’d feel more comfortable knowing you can defend yourself, or that you can at least run away to safety,” he said. “But this isn’t about what I want. What do you want?”
That wasn’t something Kiva could answer honestly, not to Jaren. Perhaps not even to herself. So all she said was, “I agree.”
“So you’ll keep training with him?” Jaren asked.
It cost her, but Kiva said, “For now.”
“I’m glad,” Jaren said, visibly relieved. “If Cal becomes too much, let me know, and I’ll have a word with him. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable. Ever.”
His words warmed Kiva, but she brushed them aside and said, “I can handle your cousin.”
“I know you can,” Jaren said, and that warmed Kiva, too. “But the offer stands.”
Before she could repeat her sentiment, a male servant approached from the direction of the palace and bowed deeply to Jaren, handing over a note and scurrying away again.