“I need you to extract a memory, little cub.”

I look up from watching Ran stalk a rat in the corner.

The rat darts around her legs. She sticks her head between her front legs and nearly does a front flip but recovers quickly, standing upright with bared teeth at the creature not bigger than her toebean. The rat darts back around her and she snaps at it—and ends up somehow swiping her front paw out from under herself with her head and—

She topples.

I bite my tongue, the overall joy still permeating everything in my system.

Ran chases the rat from the room, nearly colliding with Sir Rowen who speaks with Hans by the door.

My brain catches up with what Pa said. “A memory?” I ask.

He leans back, rubbing a hand down his cheek. “It’s the reason I didn’t come back quicker, little one. Otherwise I would have come back the night you freed me.”

My heart aches at his emotionless voice. He hides it well. But I see it. He’s my father… and it’s also how I hide. We can usually hide it from those who don’t know us. But when we have no emotion in our voice… it means it’s because we cannot handle what is going through us and if we try to then it’s gonna break us. And we can’t break in front of people.

My mind comes back from the rat and lands on Papa. “I can, Papa. Just guide me to it.”

He nods, eyes still closed.

Momma sits a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. He sits his hand on hers, leaning back with a deep breath. His brow furrows.

We’re sitting at a table with a map in the center—wait, this is the same room where Silver tried to get me to stay back and not rescue my family before I knew about Darshius and La'Maciago. That feels like another lifetime ago, even though it wasn’t that long ago.

The desk with the map—there is always a map during discussions between high ranking officials, in this case Hans, Arin, and Papa—lay on the wall opposite the entry door. A fireplace lay dormant on the right wall while rays of light filter in through two stained glass windows, making pastel squares on the table, chairs, and rug.

Jack and Jill went back to the library when Jill nearly siphoned the life from a guard who startled her. Ran broke the connection, thank goodness. I know Jill can’t handle a death on her shoulders, no matter how accidental, so they needed to get back.

Hans sits on a stool, in between hopping up to give orders to a runner who is coming to us from General Verand back at the castle. The more I learn, the more I realize how much Momma had shielded us from information about anything that could be a part of the army. I wished she hadn't. Wished she would've told us Papa worked for the crown. I haven't gotten the full story yet... but I've picked up enough. Papa was on a special mission for the crown and that's what got him caught.

A part of me is bitter, but another understands. She didn't want us involved.

Ran snorts in my mind. You have a way of interrupting the best laid of plans, Rider. A tiny smile crosses my face. Another snort. That was not a compliment, Ran grumbles.

What, afraid I'll intterupt your plans?

You already have, she hisses.

My grin grows a bit. What, a honeymoon with your mate? She growls. Wait, really?

You just had to nearly die right after I find my mate.

It's been weeks!

What are weeks to a lifetime?

I nearly groan at the mushy, ooey-gooey feelings coming over the bond. Great. My bond is in love. Is this what I felt like early on.

Worse. You were lovesick and trying to hide it. And I was the only one who knew, she spits the last word as if it were a curse.

I choke on a laugh.

But then I sigh when I recall what I was thinking on before Ran interrupted. See what I did there? Rann groans in my head, muttering about idiotic, peppermint smelling two-legs.

But I knew the bare minimum about Gifts. Didn't really much believe in them, were I honest. I knew that there were mages, I even knew a guy in town who was taken from his family to be a king’s mage since Gift usage was otherwise outlawed outside of nobles—but I’m just now learning how very naive I was.

If not for Hans, I would’ve been arrested for having the Gift I have. I would’ve been an enemy of the nation for unsanctioned Gift usage or some such or another. It’s why some of the mages—especially the water mage who constantly drips—despise me. The typical rules don’t apply to me. The water mage Ash was what they call a scholarship mage. Taken from his family when he began having inclinations to a Gift. He was raised in the castle to serve the army and the king.

I’m not much one for politics and typically try to keep my nose clean… but something about that isn’t setting right with me. And thanks to Hans, I now have a better understanding of the mage’s animosity.

And now… I need to dive into a memory. I take a deep breath.

It’s been a day since Arin was injured and we took the army out from the Underground. Nika and Master Black returned to the Underground guilds, but they were tight-lipped about what was happening beneath ground. All they said was that they needed the topside cleared of two-faced leaders. I still don’t know what they meant.

Father nods. I link to my Gift. She sighs within me, apprehensive. I sit beside the still lake in my soul that is my Gift, looking into the choppy, agitated waters. I know, I think to her. And I do. I’m scared. I’ve seen what Papa went through… I don’t wanna see it again.

But we must see this through. And this may give us a way to help him more and protect those we love, I whisper, putting my forehead against the waters. The waters still.

She rises from the depths, so like me, and yet… not.

I put my hand out, and she lays hers on mine. Palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip.

And together, we dive into the memory Papa lay before us.

~~~

“How goes the breaking?” The voice is both scratchy and soft. Odd juxtaposition.

“He is mine, both in mind and body. This will be better than before, once I become—” the voice grows indistinct as she walks away, then comes back “—the champion ball is set in stone. There will be an attack which takes out the key leaders who oppose me. The rest will lean into my knowledge of the fine arts and the kingdom will be mine.”

“Ours,” the voice growls, nearly playfully but with an underlying threat which makes my hairs stand on end.

“Ours, of course, father,” the woman says, her voice saccharin.

~~~

I jerk back into myself, rubbing the goosebumps on my arms. Those people give me the creeps, especially after all that happened when I was kidnapped. And Papa's emotions mingle with mine. Fear, terror, pain.

My mind devolves. It goes back to those times, it returns to when Ran almost died—

Screams sound in my mind. They get louder. And then suddenly… stop. But the emotions are oh so much harder to control. They expand and contract, making my physical body shake with adrenaline mixed with terror mixed with downright horror—

A slap shocks me back into the world. I jerk, feeling for my knives, but finding none.

“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” someone says, and I look up with frantic eyes. My arms aren’t tied. They should be tied. I look down at my fingers and legs, able to move and sitting at a table with light shining in when I should be deep underground with darkness and chanting—

I cut off my thoughts, whimpering, pulling my knees into myself and trying to find a center of calm. But calm is not to be found… until a gentle peace comes from a light inside my soul.

I cling to that peace at my very core. My garden is being swept with a massive storm, lighting striking, winds whipping, but my peace remains. It goes nowhere.

Help me, I whisper through chattering teeth, terrified of staying in this place. Terrified of never escaping what I know to be a memory but one which feels as if it’s happening now.

I don’t know how long I stay there, but all I could do was sit and wait for the storm to pass. It buffeted me until my insides felt raw and aching, broken and weary.

When it at last abates, I unclench my fingers, feeling a tiny bit of blood dribble down my palm where I had broken skin in half-moon shapes with my fingernails.

“Are you back, Mau Cor?”

I roll my head, catching eyes of dark, stormy blue swirled with clouds of silver. I give a tight nod, then rest my head back on my knees, too weak to lift it at the moment.

“Can I hold you now, little cub?” a voice asks, a voice so soft yet broken it makes something ache within. And I can’t… I can’t cause him more pain.

I stand quickly, seeking Ran… who is already on her way.

I meet Papa’s eyes, their painful depths reflected in my own. “I’m sorry… I’m… fine,” I whisper, then I open one of the windows and jump before they can protest.

Ran leaps from a shadow right beneath me, and I grab hold of her mane, clinging to her like a baby monkey, as she runs up the side of the building. She leaps onto the roof and comes to an abrupt stop. It wrenches me from her fur and I go sliding across the roof, eliciting a yell from a knight on duty.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Don’t shoot!” I try to say. But it comes out a garbled mess since my mouth is full of dirt, grime, and slime.

So I spent a moment gagging.

Then I look up and raise my hands. “Don’t shoot!”

But the knights have already sheathed their weapons and released their bowstrings and are silently watching, their eyes alight with amusement. No naked steel points our way.

I narrow my eyes at them… and one of them cracks a smile.

“Hi, Guardian!” the smiler says with a tiny wave.

I roll my eyes, spitting out more dirt. I run my tongue over my teeth, making sure there’s no chips, and all I feel is dirt caked on.

“Why?” I ask Ran, who sits licking a paw as if nothing of consequence occurred. Her eye flicks to look at me, humor lurking in the depths. “Fine. Dump me on the ground. What do I care?”

A chuckle comes from the knights.

I spin. Their faces could be made of stone.

“Who laughed?” I growl.

They all point to the smiler.

“Hey, wait! It wasn’t me!” he protests.

I stalk over. He’s a head taller than me. And he’s the smallest knight there by a good half head! That makes my irritation racket up. He leans back a tiny bit as I raise on my tippy toes to look him in the eye.

Ran sends me an image of a flat roof with men along the edges looking out for danger and four knights in the center with a tiny girl before them. The girl is up on her toes, trying to appear menacing… it doesn’t work. She looks like a fairy before a cat.

I whirl on Ran, whose tail abruptly stops patting the ground. She looks at me with pure innocence in her wide amber eyes and her ears perked, but I know the mischief racing along our bond. Along with the daggum humor.

That’s when one of the men reach for me from behind. I feel the misplaced air and sidestep, sweeping a leg back to trip him. I don't know if this was one of Hans or not, but I guess he is and Hans still has them testing me to keep me always aware.

I sigh as the dude stumbles forward, and I relieve him of a knife in a sheath along his hip, twirl it in my finger to test the weight, and kick his backside.

He goes sprawling. He gets up slowly, clicking and clacking in the chain mail, and I grin innocently. “Wanna try again?” Before long, my secret isn’t going to be a secret at all. That’s concerning… but it can’t be part of my concern at the moment. I have too many other worries.

He releases a good-natured laugh, his eyes crinkling. He’s the smiler. “No, m’lady. Once is plenty, thanks.”

I shake my head, a smile beginning to come into play… and then I remember Papa. My heart drops. For a moment I’d forgot how I’d left him.

What should I do, my King?

On one hand, I don’t want to cause him more pain. He’s hurt and aching and filled with things I can’t even imagine… I don’t want to place my burdens on him. But at the same time… if roles were reversed, I would hate to have him walk out to where I can’t even think about helping because my loved one runs whenever I try.

And that’s not for situations where the other person doesn’t have my best interest at heart. If Papa had shown me I couldn’t trust him with these parts of me, then I would have to run. But… Papa is Papa. He’s not perfect. But I know he loves me dearly and wants what’s best for me. He’s shown that time and time again.

So I need to step up and… even if it’s hard, I need to trust him with this.

There you are, darling. You already knew.

And I give a tiny smile. It’s true. I did.

I turn to Ran. And sigh. She has a knight and is licking his hair as he hides his face and tries not to squeal… but the sounds leaking from between his hands sounds suspiciously like passed gas or the squeak of rusty wheels.

I find Papa in the back courtyard where the destriers are kept.

Ran immediately knocks Papa from his feet, licking his face.

His laugh makes my heart glow with happiness. "I've missed you too, little one," he says, scratching inside her ear. The one place she never lets me touch but melts when Papa itches it. That's when I realize just how much Ran missed him. He's her father, too. The only one she knew, as her sire passed before she bonded with me.

Ran gets off Papa so he can get up, but her hind end wiggles so much she nearly knocks him off his feet again with her tail. Her whimpers and excited yips make me grin even as heat teases at the back of my eyes. It's an image I'll forever ingrain into my mind. Her smiling eyes and carefree yips and Papa's gentle grin as he laughs, scratching her and looking more relaxed than I'd seen since he came home. Ran is a balm to the soul. Even if she is a pain in the rear sometimes.

Papa looks up, his smile not dimming as he sees me there. "Little cub," he whispers, the tears teasing the corners of his eyes making mine release and trail my cheeks. I step forward and rest my hand on Rans shoulder as she turns to lick my cheek, her grimey tongue leaving a trail of slime behind.

Papa chuckles as I give her a look—which doesn't at all diminish her wiggling tail nor the doggy smile of her tongue hanging from her mouth.

I smile as I take Papa's outstretched hand. He pulls me in for a hug, enveloping me in his warmth. He kisses my hair, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. I don't know how long we stay that way before Ran nudges between us, whining. Papa laughs and scratches under her chin, placing a kiss on her twitching nose.

He sits, patting the haybale beside him.

I sit. The scent of horses, hay, and memories fill my nose. I remember the many times I’d sit beside Papa like this outside our old barn that was much more worn than the pristine white and black monstrosity at our backs. Still doesn’t take away the bittersweetness of the moment.

I close my eyes.

“Remembering, little cub?”

I nod, a sad smile turning my lips. “It’s been a long time, Papa,” I whisper, rolling my head over to look at him.

He sits with his head leaning against the white wall of the stable, a tear dripping from his eyes and shimmering before splintering against the ground. “You realize it’s been a cat’s span since I saw you last?” I watch him, catch the yearning in his eyes. “Your mother spoke with me on just what you have done these long twelve years, little cub.”

I shrug, suddenly shy. Much of that was an escape. Escape my life at home. Escape remembrances of my father. But it was also done in a hope to make my Papa proud, wherever he was in Sixth. But now I know. He was in a human-created Fifth.

“I hoped to make you proud,” I whisper through strained vocal chords.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders, his breath hitching. “You have, my little warrior. Oh, how you have!”

I smash my face into his chest, letting his strong arms enfold me in his gentle embrace. Something within uncoils. Muscles I didn’t even know where clenched slowly relax. My mind slows.

Silver is the only other one I can compare these hugs to, but even then, they are different. Silver’s are relaxing, but also tinged with a hint of a charge… dare I say even attraction.

With Papa, it’s just pure relaxation.

“I’ve missed you, Papa,” I whisper, the warmth feeling like… home.

He squeezes me a little tighter, his heart pattering harder beneath my ear. “So I have you, my little cub. So I have you,” he whispered, voice catching, warm tears splashing on my hair.

~~~

“They’re moving the day of the Prince Protector Ball,” I tell those at the table.

General Verand sits at the head, Arin beside him, Hans on the other side, Papa beside me and Momma on my other side.

“Any further information?” General Verand asks.

“They are after the line of succession to place a faux leader in their place. They have an insider, but I was never allowed to know who,” Papa says.

“It’s good to have you back, Sir.” General Verand salutes Papa, which makes me highly suspicious. Papa sees my look and gives an innocent smile. I huff.

Some things don’t change. He’s just as bad as Jack. I’d forgotten just where Jack got his mischief from.

General Verand steeples his hands, his face blank. “The king has ceased listening to reason. The nobles still around after his last few stunts—” he glances over at Silver, seeking something I cannot entirely name.

Silver nods. “She can know.” He turns to me. “My father is not himself. The stunt with my mother’s prized bunnies has caused a great rift between my parents. Some theorize if we wouldn’t be better with a different monarch entirely.”

My mother’s gasp shakes me. I glance over at her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“He means a coup,” Papa explains, a tick beginning at the corner of his eye. He taps his leg in a rhythm I don’t recognize, and his entire body shakes. I’ve never seen him shiver.

He sees my concern, and his eyes flash with a pain I can only imagine before he closes his eyes and messages his forehead. I touch his strand… and immediately recoil.

So much pain. I touch it again, relieving him just a hint and taking it on myself.

Arin snaps his head to look at me. I realize my eyes are closed and I’m rubbing my chin. I give him a tiny smile, but his brow furrows and his eyes grow slightly lighter than his usual blue, a hint of the assassin coming out.

“Civil war? Is it truly so bad?” I ask, politics something I abhor. There’s a reason I never wanted to be Arin’s Protector. Politics and I do not get along. Give me a knife and the enemy, and I will fight. But this is a grey area where enemies masquerade as friends and enemies are friends. It’s a finicky world I want no part of.

But I may not be able to avoid it much longer.

Arin gives a single, succinct nod, still watching me carefully.

I puff out my cheeks. This keeps getting better and better.

“I leave and come back to a world on the brink. What are the chances of peaceful negotiations?” Father asks, his voice carrying no hope whatsoever.

General Verand’s snort confirms his fears.

“What can we do?” I ask, nothing coming to me.

“I’ve postponed the tournament for as long as I could, feigning a sickness. Partly because my favorite is missing—” he shoots me a grin, but it’s tempered by the pain of my abduction “—and partially because while the tournament is rolling, the grumbles cannot be more than that. Most won’t risk their own hides being here when the coup goes down. Of course the tournament cannot go on without her prince,” Arin says with a self-satisfied grin. He sits back, the smile draining from his face. “Do you wish to continue with the facade? You can bow out and continue erasing the creatures beneath the dirt.”

I sigh, wishing to run my forehead like Father is. “When does the tournament start back?”

“Tomorrow.”

I wish to curse, but Momma and Papa are right there… this is weird.

“What do you think?” I ask my parents. My voice is low. I haven’t asked anything of them in so long. My decisions have been rapid fire and I… I’m not the person I used to be. I’m not the person Papa used to know. And that brings a pain of something deep in my heart.

We aren’t who we were before, and it’s almost as if I’m once again grieving. Grieving Father not knowing me any longer. Grieving the memories and dreams we could’ve shared. But while all that is true, I wouldn’t trade this time for anything. It’s a healing pain, one where I know I can once more make those memories. A bittersweet pain of longing, one where I know it’s not a dead dream, just one that was postponed for many years.

“You’re running yourself ragged, honey. Can you focus on one and maybe even give yourself a break? Let others take it for a while?” Momma asks, her voice not challenging, but concerned.

I feel my chest tighten. I remember the loss we’ve had. Remember how the enemy took and tortured my family. I can’t… I can’t rest until they’ve paid for what they’ve done. Anger thrums through me in a wave of heat I’ve never once felt. Ran gives a worried whine in my head.

“I can’t, Momma, not yet,” my voice is a mere whisper to keep from shouting.

Papa leans back in his chair, studying me. “What do you want, kiddo?” he asks, voice matching mine in softness.

I glance over to see General Verand, Hans, and Silver watching me. General Verand has a sort of knowing glint in his eyes, as if he reads something in the situation even I cannot see. Hans, who’s been much more quiet than usual, merely watches me with a hint of concern and quirks a brow when he finds me watching him.

Silver… Silver has tension radiating from inside. His face doesn’t betray it, but he can’t hold back from me. Not my longer. But fear, guilt, and doubt in himself and what he’s doing makes my gut turn with tension of its own. He needs someone to watch his back. Can I do that from the shadows alone? Or do I need to become his Protector?

I know the answer before I even ask it.

“I will finish the tournament, but in between, I will dive underground and eradicate the creatures the enemy has created,” I say, my voice strong with conviction.

From the corner of my eye, I see Verand nod, as if he expected nothing else. Hans brow furrows, but he says nothing. Momma opens her mouth to protest, but Papa sets a hand on her shoulder. When she glances at him, fire in her eyes and a sharp word on her tongue, something she sees on his face calms her. She gives a tiny, succinct nod, jaw clenched with fear and anger, but remains silent.

And Silver. He grabs a knife and twirls it, never breaking eye contact with me. His eyes swirl with silver and blue, pained, but he gives a short nod.

I sit back. “But where do you want me? If I am better to serve you underground, then that’s where I’ll go. If I’m better able to help at the tournament, that’s where I’ll go. Silver…”

“I must return to the castle before my absence is noted. Will that be all, Sire?” Verand asks, his eyes flicking between Silver and I.

Silver closes his eyes. Something like pain crosses his face. “I want you far from this. I want you where pain cannot touch and sorrow cannot invade.” His eyes open, capturing mine. My heart quickens in my chest. His eyes are open. His eyes are clear. And they show a confidence I never could have fathomed. A confidence directed at me. “But you are capable, Aria. You are a warrior. I will not cage your abilities nor trim your wings. You have honed yourself in battle and been the turning point in this war. We all know what would have happened without you here.”

My mouth parts. My mind scrambles to a halt. He sees me. And he won’t forbid me fighting.

“You are a warrior, Mau Tigress. Fierce and protective as the mightiest of dragons. But come back to me. To us,” he whispers.

“Always,” I say, wishing to put my head to his and smell his scent of knife oil and freedom. But my parents are watching. That’d be awkward. So instead, I try to put my thanks, my understanding, and my joy in my eyes.

His eyes soften from the confident worry to something neither one of us are ready to admit.

A cough makes me jump.

Papa is looking between Silver and I with narrowed eyes. “Is there—”

“Sounds as if we have a plan. Aria will continue as is. Any further questions?” Hans says, sending a glare at my Father who meets him heat for heat.

Momma purses her lips. I’m unsure if she’s hiding a grin or a disapproving scowl.

Papa breaks from his glare to stare at me, and his eyes soften. “You’ve been through so much.” His voice breaks on the final word.

“So have you, Papa. They started this. Let’s end it.”