“That was different,” Caldon objected.
“I trust them,” Jaren stated. “If any of you have a problem with that, don’t come.”
Without another word, he strode out of the room.
“He’s in a delightful mood,” Mirryn murmured.
“Horeth’s note implied the council is going to demand answers for his actions of late,” Naari informed them, her lips pinched with disapproval. “He’s bracing for an unpleasant afternoon.”
The queen’s expression shifted to concern as she stared after her son, and neither she nor anyone else offered further arguments against Kiva and Tipp accompanying them. Instead, Ariana hurried after Jaren with Mirryn and Naari at her side, and Oriel and Tipp skipping after them.
Alone with Caldon, Kiva waited to see if he would try and stop her again.
Seeing her hesitation, he shot her an apologetic smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry about that, Sunshine. I can get protective when it comes to my family.”
Kiva recalled Jaren sharing the tragic tale about Caldon’s parents, her heart catching painfully in her chest. “I understand. Family is everything.” Gods, did she know that.
A shadow passed over Caldon’s face as he held her compassionate gaze. “Not everything. Not always. Sometimes you’re better off letting them go.”
His sister. Kiva had nearly forgotten. But she doubted Ashlyn Vallentis supported Caldon’s decision to avoid her for the last three years.
“And sometimes you need to hold on tight,” Kiva returned, unconsciously thinking of the rocky reunion she’d had with her own sister. She hated the idea of that tension remaining between them forever — or worse, that they’d become like Caldon and Ashlyn, deliberately choosing not to see each other. Troubled by the thought, Kiva resolved that the next time they crossed paths, she would try harder to mend whatever had broken between them. Hopefully Zuleeka would recognize the attempt and meet her halfway.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that, Sweet Cheeks,” Caldon said, brushing aside his melancholy and swinging an arm around her shoulders, dragging her toward the doorway. “Come on. Jaren says it’s fine for you to watch us training, so let’s get moving before you miss all the good stuff.”
Kiva stumbled along with him, her forehead scrunching as she repeated a single word. “Training?”
The only answer Caldon gave was, “Hurry up, and you’ll see.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jaren was waiting for Kiva and Caldon at the end of the corridor, the others now slightly ahead. He remained quiet as they headed down to the ground floor, continuing until they were underground.
With the palace split in half by the Serin, Kiva had questioned its defensibility upon her arrival, but Jaren had claimed it would be nearly impossible for an enemy to take. If one side was invaded, the royal family need only flee to the other using their private bridge. Were that to become compromised, there was an entire network of underground passageways spanning beneath the river to connect the eastern and western residences — which was also how the servants and guards traveled between the two sides at all hours of the day.
Kiva had felt mildly ill at learning how well the palace was fortified, having been forced to acknowledge yet another challenge in the way of her family taking the throne. Until today, she hadn’t set foot in the tunnels, merely assuming they would be similar to what lay beneath Zalindov: a dark, claustrophobic spiderweb of passages, many of which were at least partially submerged. But she soon discovered that wasn’t the case, instead finding a marble-pillared thoroughfare with a paved stone pathway wide enough to fit three carriages side by side. The tunnel was dry, it was clean, and the countless luminium beacons affixed to the pillars flooded the space with a bright, welcoming light.
“Impressive, huh?” Caldon said, reading Kiva’s expression.
She nodded mutely in return, following their small group along the path, mentally mapping every doorway and bylane they passed and intending to return later for further exploration.
When they reached a point near to where Kiva guessed the bank of the river sat above them, they turned off down a narrower passageway, this one much more reminiscent of those at Zalindov. Goose bumps rose on Kiva’s flesh as the memories assailed her mind, but she pushed them back and breathed deeply, not allowing fear to take root.
The passage ended at a wooden door with an iron keyhole, but rather than producing a key, Mirryn flicked her fingers in an upward direction. A whoosh of wind preceded the rattling sound of a lock turning, before the door sprang open on creaky hinges.