2

~Kiva

I stare at the mahogany door, knowing what conversation is going to occur beyond it.

"Fuck this," I mutter under my breath, knocking on the wood.

“Come in, daughter.”

My father waits beyond his desk as I enter the room. The deepening lines between his brows tell me all I need to know.

“How many casualties?” I ask gently, not stopping until my hips bump against the desk.

Father runs his hand down his face. “Too many. We are lucky we are alive.”

I shift. That’s an understatement.

I should be dead. This morning I woke, feeling like I’m now living on borrowed time. Were that man not my mate…

“What made them back off?”

“You tell me. You were at the mercy of one, and they spared you,” Father asks distractedly, sighing as he sifts the paper in front of him.

Memories flash through my mind, vivid and dark.

The way he had pinned me down against the bed like that, the raw power he was so willing to inflict upon me just to harm me.

What kind of man is that?

“I don’t know father. I begged for my life, and whoever he was, he obliged me.”

I can't even imagine my father's wrath were he to know I had a mate, let alone one that tried to kill me. Being a Princess only worsens that reality.

Father leans back in his chair, tapping his stubbled chin. “You’re going to need a personal guard.”

“I want Andri.”

“He’s gone, Kiva.”

Grief nestles into the depths of my stomach, causing it to ache so badly I could double over from the pain.

We were friends, Andri and I. Those are rare for me, in the manor. I go rarely, so I would often confide in him.

I doubt I’ll find that connection again, with another personal guard.

“I want to attend his funeral.”

Father sighs, not looking up. “You can’t leave these grounds, not for a while, until we track down who did this.”

Turning, I sit on the edge of his desk, ignoring his gestures to move away from his documents.

“I can’t believe I could have died,” I muse quietly.

At the hand of my own mate, no less.

“Your personal guard will be arriving tonight from a nearby Kingdom. He will also be training you,” father adds.

I whirl around, gaping at him. A new guard so soon?

“Training me? In what?”

“Self defence. From now on, you need to learn how to protect yourself in case this happens again. This man is apparently the best in the land.”

Father gets to his feet, stalking past me and out the office. I follow him.

“Do you trust him?”

“He’s an ex mercenary. He will do a good job,” he responds.

A mercenary to protect me? I thought they were hired killers…

“I’m assuming I don’t get a say this time.” Such matters are not a Princesses burden, he has always insisted.

Nothing is my burden. Except of course, being trussed up and told what to do.

Being trained in self-defence is the first personal endeavour my father has allowed, aside from painting or reading, of course.

“Your safety is imperative," he notes. “Now, you must prepare to make an announcement to the people. They will want to know you are alive and ready to retaliate.”

“What about my trip to the lakes next week?” I've been looking forward to that outing for months.

“Postponed until-“

“Until we caught them. Got it," I mutter tiredly, turning to the door.

What will this new guard be like? Will they ardently protect me against my mate, who is wrapped up in all this?

I know it's wrong, but I want to see him again, to meet him...

Pausing, I glance back over my shoulder. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yes Kiva?”

“Will you kill them all, when you find them?” Images of my mate being hanged flash through my mind, accompanied with a strike of pain straight beneath my ribs.

He doesn’t look up. “They will go through the trial system, but chances are, they will receive death penalty.”

There’s little point to protesting it.

Once my mate is found, he will be killed. Which means I need to find him first.

***

Staring up at the ceiling, I let out a soft groan of frustration.

I’m never going to get a good sleep again.

Hoisting myself up, I snatch my frail robe, slipping it on as I head to the door.

As I assumed, my temporary guard lays slumped against the wall, snoring gently. It allows for me to pick my way past him unnoticed, the sound of the rain pattering against the roof masking my footsteps.

Leaving my room at night is the ultimate sin, according to father.

Too bad I’m restless tonight, and I want to feel the rain on my skin.

My trip down the stairs is cut short, as the sound of the large front door creaking open echo’s through the great hall.

I pause, ducking down, coating myself in shadows.

“You have arrived,” someone says.

Gripping the varnished banister, I peak up, looking at where the front door is opened, a figure standing at the threshold, another meekly hunched nearby.

It’s a maid and…who is that?

A flash of lightening drenches the alabaster floor in light for a brief moment, making me flinch back.

The foreign figure, a man, standing at the door shakes their shoulders, ridding themselves of their sopping wet jacket.

The maid takes it, scurrying off into the darkness, a guard I don’t recognise standing in her place now.

“Your room is upstairs. Furthest down on the right,” He motions to where I watch on. I duck down, sucking in a breath.

The man doesn’t respond.

“The King will want to speak to you in the morning, before you’re introduced to the Princess,” the guard drones on.

This is my new personal guard.

Curious, I peek back up.

His stature is disturbingly impressive. Even from here, I can see his broad shoulders and towering height.

On his hands, leather gloves shine in the low light. Killers hands.

“Fine,” he responds gruffly to the guard.

There are many Territories in these lands. His accent is one I cannot pinpoint.

He begins towards the stairs, so as quickly as possible I crawl up and into the nearest room, concealing myself behind the door.

His footsteps are near silent as he ascends to the second floor and past my hiding spot.

Creeping out, I watch him depart down the corridor.

I’m officially curious.

So, I follow him, one hand braced on the wall to keep myself from tripping in the near darkness.

He stops right by the door to his new bedroom, however, his hand pauses on the handle.

“I’m hoping this is where your following ceases,” he murmurs lowly.

I stiffen. Me?

Like a fool, I turn to look over my shoulder, as if there’s anyone else that would be stalking him through the shadows right now.

“What gave it away?”

The slightest exhale from his nose gives away his irritation. “You’re heavy footed.”

Well, no excuse in the world is going to get me out of this one.

Clearing my throat, I straighten from my hunched position, smoothing my hair back, although I presume he cannot see me in this lightening. I can barely see him.

“You must be my new personal guard.” Maybe it’s the nerves, but I can hear how haughty that sounds and I want to kick myself for it.

I can feel him assessing me with preternatural calmness.

“Goodnight.”

I blink as he swiftly opens his door, stepping inside.

“Wait. What’s your name?”

Fool. Idiot, fool, idiot Kiva.

He emerges again, leaning his forearm against the doorframe. The backlight hides his face, but I already figure he’s devastatingly handsome.

Because that’s just my luck.

“I have a few more hours before I work for your father, Princess. I don’t have to speak to you.”

I suck in a breath. “Ouch. Well, you have to be by my side from now on, so you may as well be nice to me.”

“Perhaps a mutual respect for silence will be more preferred.” He disappears into his room once more.

My fingers roll up into clenched fists, fingernails digging into my skin.

“My name is Kiva,” I say despite myself. “You’ll come to like me.”

His door breezes shut.

All I can do is stare at it.

So that’s my new personal guard.

“Great. Just great,” I mutter, turning to sulk back to my room.