Chapter 48: Emma Said Yes!

I woke in the middle of the night smiling.

Emma had said yes.

My smile widened against the blanket.

Beside me, Olivander breathed slowly from his bed. The church beneath us was quiet. I had so much energy but I use it without waking him up, or at least Olive couldn’t luckily I wasn’t the only one awake.

As Lucarion I bit my pillow and squealed as loudly as I wanted, “aaahhrgh” my body hugged my pillow as hard as he could.

I closed my eyes again. and opened them almost immediately.

There was no point pretending I would fall back asleep. My thoughts kept returning to Emma beside me on the roof, the Emberwings burning above us, and the way her hand had felt in mine before we climbed down.

I still had hours before I would see her again.

That was too many hours to spend lying still.

I slipped out from beneath the blanket, dressed as quietly as I could, and grabbed the guttervine, he was much larger now, about the size of an apple, he clumped around my wrist, and I climbed down from the attic. The church smelled faintly of smoke, spilled wine, and the sweat of unbathed knights. The clergy will have to use their spells today to clean up the mess of the knights. None of it bothered me.

Emma had said yes.

The air outside was cool enough to raise bumps along my arms. Tillshade rested beneath the gray sky. The lanterns had burned low. Cloth strips still hung from the rooftops, stirring whenever the breeze reached them.

The celebration had left the square looking as though a tornado had passed through.

Cups sat beneath benches. Crushed berries stained the road. Pastry crumbs covered the ground around the tables, and several cushions had been abandoned on the roofs.

Something round moved beneath the awning of the general store. A grubbear was eating the leftover food.

Then another climbed into an overturned barrel.

Jen was near the church steps leaning against the wall as if she couldn’t hold herself up, with a very crossed expression on her face.

She saw me approach “You’re awake early.”

“I’m not tired.”

That should not have been true. She knows that shouldn’t be true, I had stayed on the roof until long after dark, and the sun isn’t even up yet. I couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep, but she said yes.

My limbs felt light, my thoughts clear. Even holding Olive and Lucarion together felt easier, as though the space between them had narrowed while I slept.

“did you use a spell to recover your energy?” she said accusingly

“wha—no I just have left over energy from last night” I had used my spell last night on my guttervine, to give him greater nourishment, but even grovekeepers tend to dislike such a use of magic.

“you should go back to bed, you shouldn’t be up if you don’t have to be.” She said clearly not wanting to be in bed.

“then why are you up?”

“someone needs to keep an eye out for the knights after someone started trouble with them”

Me, it was me, but even that can’t hamper my mood “is there anything I can help with?”

Jen glanced toward the grubbear as it poked its head out of the barrel.

“can you deal with them?”

“I can do it.”

“take them over to the stables, we can bring them into the forest afterward.”

She studied me for another moment, probably trying to decide why I was volunteering before dawn.

I smiled at her.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re behaving strangely.”

I ignored that and hurried toward the nearest Grubbear.

The first one had gotten its head beneath a table. not completely stuck. It could have pulled itself out whenever it wanted. It simply had no reason to when there were crushed berries, pastry crumbs, and something that smelled like cheese beneath there.

I crouched beside its round backside and wrapped both arms around its middle.

“Come on.”

The Grubbear continued chewing.

“Those are old.”

It hummed contentedly.

I planted my boots against the dirt and pulled. Its six paws dragged through the dust, leaving little lines behind them, but its head remained beneath the table.

A thin vine coiled twice around my wrist shifting with the movement. The young guttervine seemed to be stretching out, though he stayed in my forearm.

The Grubbear was also happy enough, which was the problem.

I pulled harder.

At the same time, through Lucarion, I had gone over to the meditation room and summoned Raven to continue with my training, I lifted my shield.

The weight settled along my arm, heavy but familiar. My shoulder already ached from the previous day’s practice. My thighs protested when I bent my knees, and the sword pulled at my wrist as I raised it.

Still, it felt much less heavy than when I first started.

“Higher,” Raven said.

I lifted the shield another inch.

“Your sword.”

The point had begun to sag. I straightened my wrist before it could fall farther.

Raven stood in front of me, watching.

He had not moved for several minutes. He never shifted merely because standing still had become uncomfortable. His armor did not settle. His shoulders did not lower. He did not change his weight from one foot to the other.

Normally I didn’t like this, having a demon stay so still like a predator would trigger my fight or flight response, well lets be fair, its flight, that’s why I am training.

And yet today it didn’t bother me at all.

That morning, even Lucarion’s body felt restless. It sat beneath the pain, bright and impatient, making it difficult to believe I could fail at anything as ordinary as posing correctly.

“Begin,” Raven said. For the umpteenth time.

I stepped forward with my right foot, lowered my weight, and brought the shield closer to my body.

Through Olive, the Grubbear finally came free.

It emerged with a mouthful of crumbs and rolled onto its back.

“There.”

I rubbed its belly.

Its six legs curled happily toward its body. Its fur was cool from the morning air, with several sticky spots where berries had dried into it.

“You ate everything. Now you have to leave.”

The Grubbear hummed as I scratched beneath one of its front legs.

The Grubbear stretched farther onto its back.

I stopped scratching.

It rolled onto its feet with a disappointed snort. I placed both hands against its side and guided it down the street, towards the stables.

The sky had begun to pale above the trees. Normally Tillshade would rise with it, but I doubted people would have the energy to ago about their day, or at least I hoped.

A few knights had emerged some were even drinking already.

They looked miserable. Shirts hung loose beneath half-fastened armor. Hair had been flattened on one side or left sticking upward. One knight sat beneath the general store awning with both hands pressed to his forehead while another stared into a cup oblivious to the world.

As I moved towards the stable a knight stood in our path purposely; I knew it was purposeful because a carriage could have easily moved stopped anywhere else, and yet a man had to walk directly in front of me and then stop. I had to tug the grubbear around him.

The Guttervine tightened slightly around my wrist.

Ahead of us, two more Grubbears were fighting over a crushed pastry beside the stable gates. They shoved one another with their shoulders, each trying to fit the entire thing into its mouth before the other could take it.

I pushed my Grubbear toward them.

It hurried forward.

That had been a mistake.

Now there were three of them fighting over the pastry.

I separated them by offering them different pieces of food.

It was not much of a solution.

I gave the first the remains of the crushed berry pastry. The second received a handful of nuts I found beneath one of the rooftop ladders. For the third, I found half a roll lodged beside a rain barrel.

Once all three were chewing, I walked behind them and pushed.

They moved down the road together.

The Guttervine swayed around my wrist with every step. Its thin tendrils had curled into one another, creating a small knot above the back of my hand.

The Grubbears carried their food toward the stable gates, delaying as much as they could on the way, one even relived itself on the way.

It should have been frustrating.

Instead, I found myself smiling at their round backs.

Emma had said yes.

The thought rose without permission, as bright as the Emberwings had been above the trees.

I pushed one of the Grubbears away from a dropped cup.

The Grubbear ignored me and stuck its nose into the cup.

Through Lucarion, I moved into the next stance.

My back foot turned. My sword rose. My shield shifted outward.

Too far.

I pulled it back before Raven could correct me. The movement disturbed my balance, but I caught the mistake before my knee straightened completely. I lowered my weight again and continued.

Raven said nothing.

I turned into the third stance. My left foot slid behind me. My sword came across my body. The shield lowered to guard the opening beneath it.

My thighs trembled, but held.

The room felt hotter with every breath.

The shield grew heavier. The sword dragged against my arm. Sweat gathered beneath my hair and crawled down the side of my face.

But I was still standing.

I stepped backward.

The shield dipped.

I corrected it.

My sword arm sagged.

I lifted it.

My knees began to straighten.

I bent them before Raven could speak.

Then I moved into the next stance.

Through Olive,

I locked the stable gate, which now held a dozen grubbears and looked around the square.

Four more Grubbears had gathered beside the general store. One sat inside a crate. Another had climbed onto a table and was licking berry juice from the wood. The other two had shoved themselves beneath the knights’ chairs.

By then, the sun had begun to reach the highest branches. Its first light warmed one side of my face.

My magic inside me seemed to swell, today it felt like the rush of getting my spell back lasted longer than usual and I knew why.

Emma had said yes.

The knight with his head in his hands groaned when I crawled beneath the nearest table.

“Keep it down.” He yelled at the poor creature.

“I’m getting him” I told him.

I looked at the Grubbear beneath his chair. It had found a cluster of dried berries stuck between two boards.

“urgh!” the man groaned.

“I can’t make it chew quieter.” I grumbled.

“Then make it chew somewhere else.”  He said, I didn’t think he’d be able to hear me.

“That’s what I’m doing.” I whispered softer this time.

He groaned again and lowered his head onto his folded arms.

I reached beneath the table and caught the Grubbear around its middle. Its fur stuck to my sleeves. Something wet pressed against my palm.

I decided not to check it, only wiped my hand on the table cloth.

Two knights at the next table spoke in voices barely louder than the animal’s chewing.

“She cannot expect the court to take that seriously.”

A cup scraped softly across the table.

I pulled the Grubbear. It held on to one of the table legs with four paws.

“Let go.”

It hummed through a mouthful of berries.

The knight nearest me pressed two fingers against his temple.

“She wants them discussing her as though she were another contender.”

Contender? I tried but could not see his face from beneath the table. Only the edge of one knee, a hand with long fingers.

The grubbear held strong.

I tightened my arms around its middle and pulled.

“She is the king’s daughter,” someone farther beneath the awning countered.

“No one disputes that,” the first knight snapped. “But this is the worst possible time to risk the stability of our nation.”

“Lower your voice, Verren.”

His long fingers pressed harder against the side of his head. “I am speaking quietly.” Verren said

“we’re in an open area,” another knight said. “your voice carries.”

The grubbear was now only holding with two paws, but I stopped pulling, they were talking about the princess doing something bad?

A polished boot near the next table began tapping against the dirt. Slowly at first, then faster, the heel striking the same spot over and over.

“Valmorra is already pressuring us to move the border,” the tapping knight said. “They’re claiming a population surge.”

“Claiming,” Verren repeated. “it doesn’t matter what they claim Brannic, the moment we defeat the demons—"

“Brannic,” someone interrupted, “must you do that?”

“What?”

“Your foot.”

The tapping stopped.

Then the heel began again, deliberately.

I pretended to pull at the Grubbear once more, trying to not draw attention to myself. Its body stretched slightly beneath my arms, but its paws remained locked around the wood.

Valmorra was our neighboring country to the north, but they are trying to expand? Into us? According to our history we are a nation born from war, we share the border with the demon rift, attacking us… well how could they think that would go well?

A chair creaked farther beneath the awning.

Another knight spoke after a long silence. His voice was smoother than the others, though he sounded just as tired.

“She would serve the crown better by securing an alliance.”

“A marriage, you mean,” Verren said.

“That is generally how princesses secure them.”

A few men murmured in agreement.

Someone lifted a cup and drank. Another knight shifted, metal scraping softly against wood. The morning sun had barely reached beneath the awning, but several of them sat as though even that little light was offensive.

The Grubbear released the table leg. I stayed still under the table.

Above me, a chair scraped sharply across the ground.

Several men groaned.

“Lumisiel’s light, Edric,” Brannic said. “Lift it.”

“I did not realize everyone here had become so delicate.”

Verren exhaled through his nose.

“Can we remain on the subject?”

I could see part of Edric now that his chair had moved. A hand rested neatly against his thigh. He wore a ornate ring that he turned once around his finger before letting it go.

“We could always agree to Valmorra’s request,” Brannic said. His voice dropped. “Then push south for more land.”

The tapping heel stopped again.

This time, no one had complained.

“And push past the rift?” another knight asked. “Having the rift within our borders isn’t a risk worth taking.”

“Not now,” Brannic said. “Once the war is over, the rift won’t matter. We can push all the way to the coast.”

“That’s Demihuman territory. You’re trading one war for another.”

“A war with Valmorra means human blood on both sides.”

“Don’t let the princess hear you say that.”

Verren sighed, long and rattling.

“She’s too soft on those subspecies. The Church has poisoned her view.”

I hugged the grubbear close, he started chewing my sleeve.

water surged through my memory.

The river rushing past stones. Pieces of armor and swords broken into pieces.

Right now, Mom and Dad were in Drowsend, arguing for the exact same thing these men despised.

Protection.

A place to live.

I locked the Grubbear in a tighter embrace.

They want to continue with war after I, Lumisiel’s next answer, that which comes after the Hero, have stopped it!

I WILL NOT ALLOW IT.

“They are subjects of Lumisiel all the same,” a tired voice muttered.

I could not tell which knight had spoken my words for me. He sat farther beneath the awning, somewhere behind Brannic’s tapping boot.

I tried to calm down, allowing Lucarion’s practiced movements to quell the rage inside. Realizing that I was trying to be less angry only made me madder.

I needed something to calm me down before I got myself into more trouble.

Right. How could I be so stupid?

Emma had said yes.

Even now, my lips curled into a smile.

Verren’s fingers stopped rubbing his temple.

“I don’t buy it.”

“That is not a question of belief.”

“What’s the difference between a vampire and an elf?” Verren asked. “They’re both creatures feeding on the dead.”

“Elves are full-beings, not demi,” the tired voice said. “You know that.”

Verren lowered his hand from his temple.

I could only see his long fingers curl against his knee.

“An irrelevant distinction invented by the church.”

Brannic let out a gruff laugh.

“What, you want a war with the elves now? They’re a whole continent away.”

“I mean the only distinction that should matter is whether something is human. Everything else is a question of how dangerous it is and whether it can be controlled.”

Edric turned the ring around his finger again.

“war with the demihumans wouldn’t be useful.”

Verren’s boot shifted toward him.

“You were agreeing with me a moment ago.”

“I agreed that the princess is creating unnecessary uncertainty. That does not require abandoning every legal distinction the kingdom recognizes.”

“Legal distinction,” Verren repeated baffled.

The Grubbear stopped chewing, as if listening with me.

Above me, Brannic resumed tapping his foot.

“Her opinions on Demibeings are not the only problem,” Edric said. “She wants to be discussed as a possible ruler while the kingdom is facing pressure from outside its borders and preparing for another holy war. Even if her proposals were flawless, the timing would still be irresponsible.”

I slid backward an inch.

Dirt scraped beneath my shoulder.

“Her brother is the heir,” Verren said.

“No one has denied that,” the tired knight replied.

“She does. Every speech, every appearance, every little reform puts her name beside his, that is the only reason we are in this disgrace of a village.”

Something inside me clicked, like a puzzle falling into place, I was so focused on what the knights were saying I ignored what it meant.

The Princess, Lirael, she agrees with me…

Edric’s ring turned again.

Brannic gave a low sound that might have been amusement.

Verren continued. “She is a princess. There are duties attached to that position.”

Brannic’s boot tapped twice.

“Valmorra would certainly listen more carefully if marriage were being discussed.”

“Valmorra wants land,” Edric replied. “Marriage might provide leverage. It would not make their people vanish.”

“that’s dragonshit and you know it!”

I couldn’t help but flinch at the swear.

Edric leaned back. His chair gave a soft creak this time.

“Then we answer the threat in front of us rather than beginning another war in Demihuman lands.”

“A war with Demihumans would be easier,” Verren said.

A cup touched the table.

Nobody spoke for several breaths.

I should have used the silence to leave.

Instead, I remained beneath the table with my arms around the Grubbear, hard enough to make the grubbear tense beneath my arms. Afraid that any movement would remind them I was there.

I stroked its side.

“It’s fine,” I whispered.

Its ears twitched.

The grubbear suddenly tackled me.

There was no warning.

One moment, all of its weight pulled against my arms. The next we shot backward.

My shoulder struck the dirt with a dull thud. The Grubbear rolled over me and landed squarely on my stomach, still holding a mouthful of splintered wood.

Every voice beneath the awning died.

I stared up at the underside of the table.

The Grubbear chewed.

Wood cracked between its teeth.

I held my breath.

It swallowed loudly.

Slowly, a face leaned over the edge of the table.

His tired eyes narrowed.

“How long have you been under there?”

“Um.”

I tightened my arms around the Grubbear.

He watched me without moving.

“I just got here,” I said. “I was... pulling him out.”

The Grubbear chewed on my sleeve again.

Brannic looked at the grubbear

Then at the dirt covering my clothes.

Someone at the next table muttered a curse I could not quite catch.

Verren’s fingers left his temple.

“You just got here.”

“Yes.”

“Under the table.”

“He was already under it.”

The Grubbear hummed.

I wished it would stop helping.

Edric’s thumb turned his ring once.

“How much did you hear?”

“Edric,” Brannic warned.

The word came out low, but it made Edric’s hand stop.

Verren looked at him, then back at me.

I tried to make my face blank.

I did not know what a face looked like when it had heard nothing.

“I was trying to get the Grubbear,” I said.

“That was not the question,” Edric replied.

Verren’s jaw tightened.

Then, just as quickly, his expression flattened.

“Play with your beast elsewhere.”

He isn’t my beast.

Verren stared at me.

I decided that had not been the important part of what he said.

I pushed the Grubbear off my stomach and scrambled to my feet. Dirt coated my back, and sticky berry pulp was smeared across one sleeve.

The Grubbear tried to return to the table.

I caught it beneath its front legs and turned it around.

“No. We’re leaving.”

Another answered too quietly for me to recognize.

Their conversation began again, but the words no longer carried beyond the awning.

I kept one hand against the Grubbear’s back and guided it toward the road.

It went reluctantly, turning its head toward every scrap of food we passed.

Hours went by and Lucarion’s stances began to flow.

The first time Raven had shown them to me, each one had been separate. I had to stop inside every position and search for the next place to put my feet, the next angle for the shield, the next height for the sword.

Now one movement carried me into another.

My back foot turned and my hips followed. The sword traveled with my shoulders instead of lagging behind them. When the shield opened one side of my body, the next step closed it again, flowing like water instead of breaking apart every time I moved.

My muscles still burned. My arms shook hard enough to make the sword point tremble. Each breath scraped through my throat and sweat slid down my back beneath my clothes.

I lowered my weight and turned aside, bringing the sword across as though redirecting an attack. The shield followed to cover the opening created by the movement.

Then I stepped forward.

My legs wavered.

I corrected them without stopping.

One more.

I knew there was one more.

Through Olive, I pushed the Grubbear toward the road. The Guttervine lifted its knotted tendrils, watching the animal as though it expected betrayal.

“You still don’t have to help.”

The Grubbear slowed.

I pressed both palms against its back and pushed.

It took one step.

Then another.

It turned its head toward me and released a low growl.

I stopped pushing.

The sound was deep, but it was not frightening. Its ears had flattened, and its body had stiffened, but grubbears were harmless, their claws easily break, and their teeth had no real penetrating power.

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. But you can’t stay here.”

The Grubbear growled again.

The Guttervine snapped straight.

I felt the movement against my wrist before I understood what it was doing. One tendril whipped forward. A tiny seed shot from its tip.

The seed struck the Grubbear beside the eye.

It squealed and stumbled away, shaking its head.

“No!”

I rushed after it.

I caught up and crouched beside it.

“Hold still. Let me see.”

The Grubbear turned away.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

It made a low, unhappy sound.

I placed one hand beneath its chin and carefully turned its face toward me. The seed had not gone into the eye. It had struck beside it and become caught in the fur.

I pulled it free.

The Grubbear flinched but did not resist.

“There.”

I brushed my fingers over the spot. The skin beneath the fur did not feel broken. There was no blood.

The Grubbear gave another unhappy hum.

“I know.”

I rubbed the side of its head.

The Guttervine had drawn itself close around my wrist again. Its tendrils lay flat against my skin.

“did you attack him for me?”

The vine did not respond.

“You can’t shoot things because they make noises at me.”

One tendril shifted.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

The tendril curled beneath my wrist.

I rubbed the Grubbear’s head until its ears lifted again. Then I gave it the rest of the roll and walked beside it toward the stables.

Through Lucarion, I moved into the final stance.

My back foot turned.

My weight shifted.

The shield rose.

The sword followed.

I settled into position and held it.

Every part of Lucarion wanted to move. My shoulders burned. My thighs shook. The shield dragged at my arm, and my fingers had stiffened around the sword grip.

I stayed.

The point dipped.

I raised it.

My front knee began to straighten.

I lowered myself again.

Raven remained motionless.

He was waiting to see whether I had reached the stance or whether I could keep it.

I kept it.

My breathing grew rougher. The tremor in my arms spread into my shoulders. Still, the sword remained raised and the shield stayed between me and the place an opponent would have been.

For the first time, I did not feel as though I were borrowing the stance for a few breaths before exhaustion took it back.

It was mine.

Raven lowered his helmet in a single, shallow nod.

“Complete.”

I remained in position for one more breath, just to be certain.

Then I carefully straightened my legs. I lowered the sword first, keeping control of it until the point rested near the floor. The shield came down more slowly. My arm trembled with the effort, but I did not drop it.

Relief moved through Lucarion so sharply that I almost laughed through Olive.

“I did it.”

Raven’s helmet tilted.

He stepped closer and took the shield. Without its weight, my arm felt strangely light. Pain pulsed from my fingers to my shoulder, but I remained standing.

“You will rest until your next meal,” Raven paused then added. “Eat lightly.”

I nodded cautiously.

He set the shield upright beside the wall.

“Afterward, we will spar.”

My attention sharpened on Raven’s sword.

I looked at his weapon, then at mine.

“today? Are you sure I’m ready?”

“You have learned enough to begin.”

He turned away.

My legs still trembled, but they held me.

“Am I supposed to win?”

Raven stopped.

His helmet turned toward me.

“No.”

He noticed me hesitating.

“I will not harm you” he said surprisingly gentle.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Fight me.”

“using the stances?”

“With everything you have available to you.”

Raven continued toward the far side of the room.

“Rest. Eat lightly. Prepare.”

Everything I had.

I looked down at the sword.

That was not much.