Astrid

“You seem to be enjoying the company of your friends,” Papa tells me one night when I tuck him into bed.

He is so very weak. He barely finished the meal I prepared for him and Lady Tremaine. Barely even spoke – though this is not an alien trait of his, considering Lady Tremaine was in the room.

I told him everything. About Isabelle and the changes she has brought to the castle, about our plan of action. He told me the efforts for the hunt have dwindled lately, what with the absence of attacks.

“I am…” he stops to cough into the handkerchief crumpled in his grip. I pretend not to notice the red spot that appears on the material. “I will never repay my debt to you for taking the rose. I’m so sorry, Astird.”

A lump rises in my throat. I climb into the bed next to him and curl up, the way I used to when I was a little child frightened by the occasional thunderstorm. His feathery touch caresses the top of my head.

“I am not,” I whisper. “I do not regret any of it, Papa. I only regret not being able to spend more time with you each day. All the other moments in between my days are spent waiting to see your face again.”

His shoulders shake when he coughs again. This time it takes longer for him to recover his breath.

“You look just like your mother; do you know that?”

My eyes fill.

“She would be so proud of you,” he continues to stroke my hair. “When I... when I leave…”

“Don’t say that,” my voice breaks at the last word. I press my forehead against the side of his arm and feel my heart shatter into a million pieces.

“No – darling, listen to me. When I leave, I want you to leave, too.”

I stop sobbing long enough to look up at him in surprise.

“What?”

“Do not stay here. Go on your grandest adventure yet – go wherever your heart desires. Be with the people who…who love you as much as I do.”

He closes his eyes and reaches over to kiss the top of my forehead.

“Your mother would be so proud,” he repeats.

“Again.”

Bayorn, Kieran and I train in the sparring arena as soon as dawn breaks. Or rather, Bayorn holds up against the two of us while we try to best him. While we possess the advantage of youth over him, Bayorn maintains his energy with ease.

I chug as much water as I am able while Kieran goes head-to-head with his guardsman. Wooden swords glow against the early sunlight as they clash in a speed my eyes can hardly follow.

Kieran’s advantage is that he is usually very quick on his feet. However, the fatigue from last night’s transformation wears him down by only a fraction of a second. That is all it takes for Bayorn to nick the weapon out of his hands and send it skidding across the floor. Kieran retaliates quickly by producing a dagger from his person; daggers I never knew he had concealed upon himself. He passes it from hand to hand, swiping it in the air as quickly as Bayorn ducks and feints to avoid it.

Neither of them hold back on each other.

In the time it takes for me to blink, the guard has somehow managed to tackle his Master onto the floor, a sword held against his chest.

“Your turn,” Kieran tells me as he allows Bayorn to help him leap to his feet.

I rise from the floor, gripping the blade I have grown accustomed to; it balances perfectly in my hands. We usually practice with training swords, but Isabelle and I are advised to get used to actual weapons. Taking Kieran’s place, I resume an offensive stance.

“Begin.”

I strike. Bayorn parries every one of my blows. For what feels for forever, I am either disarmed or made to fall on my rear about a million times. Each time, I am told to get up.

So I do.

Then, finally, I catch it. That slow movement in Bayorn’s injured right side; that slight delay. The heavy guard he keeps to prevent a strike to that area.

Making to thrust my blade directly at the injured area, I fully expect him to deflect. He does. My feet feint left and my fingers yank the spare blade strapped to his exposed leg.

He freezes against the edge of the hunting knife held to his neck.

Breathing heavily, I allow myself a triumphant smile when he lowers his arms. I hand the knife back to him.

“A clever tactic,” he nods. “But not one you can use against a ravenous beast, I am afraid.”

I blow air out of my lips. “I suppose I will just have to poke it with a flaming torch again, if I want to have any hope of besting it.”

“Is that what you used?” he peers at me curiously, sheathing the knife back to where it belongs. “I was wondering how you survived the other night.”

“Yes, I used a torch to stall it. What do you normally do?”

“Back then, I threw knives, arrows – any weapon – at its hide. The skin is less tough on the underbelly, you see.” He gestures to his own torso. “Throwing from a distance is always safe. But where it is not an option, the longer your weapon, the greater the space you may put between yourself and the beast.”

“It really is wonderful to listen while you two discuss how best to stick weapons into me at night,” Kieran interrupts us in his dry tone.

He picks up his thin, long sword and swings it in casual, deadly arcs when he approaches. Whenever he wields a weapon, he does so with calculated grace and agility. It turns him into another type of predator altogether.

“I do not mind discussing the best way to incapacitate you in the daytime as well,” I tell him sweetly.

He laughs. “Would you like to try, then? Try to take the weapon out of either of our hands,” he gestures between Bayorn and himself. “We shall teach you how to defend yourself against two opponents.”

“Why, is the beast going to split itself in two and come at me from separate directions?”

Normally, I would not rise to a challenge I know I will not win. There must be something in the air today which makes me raise my sword anyway.

Bayorn smirks – not at me, but at Kieran. It boosts my confidence by just an inch.

“As much as I would love to take part in your little challenge, I am no machine. I will take my rest and wait for her to put you in your place.” With a quick bow, he adds: “Sire.”

We all know he could go on for a full hour were it not for the stitches in his side. He walks stiffly towards the pitcher of water standing ready on a table in the distance.

Kieran and I face each other off. “Take my sword,” he commands.

“Do not go easy on me.”

“Have I ever?”

I dart towards him and try to pull the same move I pulled on Bayorn, but his free hand lashes out to catch my wrist and twists it.

“Never repeat the same trick on someone who already knows it,” he speaks in my ear before releasing me.

I tarry and feint and block. Every time I spot an opening, he moves swiftly to correct his position. Each attempt becomes more maddening than the previous one.

Finally, finally, I attempt to elbow him in the chest. His hand strikes out to block the force of my arm, but it only brings me closer. Close enough to kick the back of his knees so they buckle. He does not need to sink all the way to the floor for me to twist the sword out of his hand and send it scattering.

Something catches onto my elbow. In a breath, the whole arena turns. My arm is twisted behind my back for a split second before it is released again.

The sword is missing from my hand.

Kieran’s teeth display in a wicked grin. He tosses the hilt of my sword from one hand to another, testing its balance.

“You fight with cunning,” he points at me with my own blade. “That’s where your strength lies. Use it.”

A lock of hair comes free from my bun. Sulkily, I blow it out of the way of my face.

I won. I won, but then I lost.

“Aaaaah!”

My entire body barrels towards him. He only half turns before my arms lash out to grab the hilt of the sword right out of his grip like a madwoman.

He exclaims in disbelief.

He swings his arm out of the way before I can – very childishly, I’ll admit – yank it away from him. But I do not yield. I leap as high as I can to pull his arm down, my elbows knocking clumsily against his chest.

“Ow! Stop it!” Kieran yelps, but he starts to laugh.

Suddenly, my breaths turn into short bursts of laughter, too.

He releases his grip on the sword. It comes clattering onto the floor. Before I can stoop down to snag it for my victory, a pair of arms close around my waist to pull me out of its reach.

My own squeals echoing off the stone walls send heat rising up to my cheeks. But Kieran is too preoccupied to notice. He scoops me up by the back of my knees and I am hoisted into the air haplessly.

“Danger, danger,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

I simultaneously cling to his shoulders to keep myself from rolling right off his grip and bat at him crazily.

“Stop it!” I shriek in a manner that would make Lady Tremaine faint.

“Yield!”

“Never.”

He swings me around in a full circle for retribution. My breath leaves my lungs entirely.

Kieran tries to put me down as gracefully as he can, but my wild kicking in the air only results in me stumbling on the floor to regain my balance. His guffaws are uncontrolled. Warmth spreads over my chest.

Then I look up.

Standing next to Bayorn, Isabelle is grinning from ear to ear at our silly, childish antics.

The welling in my chest dissipates.

I straighten up. Kieran does, too, but his oblivious grin reminds me to re-plaster my smile. He reaches over to ruffle my hair but I duck out of the way.

“All you skilled lot are terrible,” I shake my fist in mock disdain. “Taking advantage over the weak. I say!”

“You guys are such dorks,” Isabelle says affectionately, her own sword in her hand as she comes over to join us.

I sniff haughtily, even though I do not know what a ‘dork’ is.

“I am going to find Imogen and Eli – at least they will treat me better,” I say, which earns me more chuckles.

As I make my way out of the arena, their light conversation continues. Isabelle giggles at a disgraceful joke Kieran cracks.

My smile grows heavy, so I discard it. There is an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach which I cannot quell.

The cruelty behind Lady Selaena’s curse finally affects me like the impact of a wave. At first, I thought the struggle would only lie in the curbing of my freedom, the stripping away of my life. Now I am starting to wonder if something worse lies in wait for me; the price to pay for breaking the curse feels like it has doubled.

Now I know that, crueler yet, the happiness I am starting to rebuild with Kieran must be torn into rubble once more.

Now I must hope for him to fall in love with someone else.