The laughter in the keep was still boisterous and loud. Most shouted out words of encouragement, saying they’d wanted to see a fight between their two main leaders for a long time.
“Did you best him?” One of her sisters, a woman who changed into a falcon, asked. “I put money on you winning, and this fool thought I was wrong.”
Sigrid flicked her gaze to the Bymerian man beside her sister, the man she knew turned into an elephant when he wished. “I did,” she replied.
The man groaned. “Damn it. Now I owe her more than just a drink.”
“You owe me an evening of your time.”
The eyes they made at each other turned Sigrid’s stomach. She didn’t need children running around the keep, knowing full well they would only follow in the footsteps of their foolhardy parents.
She limped up the stairs into the tower where Camilla had claimed her room. It was a solitary place, but that wasn’t all that surprising for an owl. The tallest peak only had a small room at the top. A circular bedroom with nothing but a bed, a desk, and a fireplace to keep her warm.
Camilla pointed at the bed. “Put her there. I’ll take care of her for the evening.”
“We’ve a healer, owl,” the man holding Sigrid advised.
“And I’ve taken care of her before. Don’t question me, Najib.”
That’s right. His name was Najib, and he turned into a leopard. She’d seen him fight before, in the battles that almost tore Bymere apart. He was a fierce fighter, capable of downing multiple men in battle, but he’d also seemed to keep a cool head.
How had she forgotten that?
He eased her down on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on her shoulder to make sure she remained steady. Instead of leaving, as she had expected from a man who had sworn Jabbar his allegiance, Najib surprised her and knelt in front of her.
He touched a thumb to her chin and tilted her head to the side. “You’ll have quite the bruise here from him.”
“It’s not the first bruise I’ve suffered.”
“But it is the first he’s given you.” Najib shook his head and dark shadows played in his eyes. “He’ll like it that he marked you. That’s just the way he is, has something to do with his beast.”
“He won’t do it again.” She knew it deep in her gut that the next time Jabbar pushed her too far, she would put the albino man in the ground. He had no right to question her, and he was the one who had put her in this position.
If he wanted someone to lead them, someone to use as a figurehead to guide them, then that meant he had to listen to her as well.
Najib sighed and stood. “If that was the way of things, then life would be a lot easier. Jabbar gets what he wants, Matriarch. Even you will be hard-pressed to stop him.”
“I nearly did today, didn’t I?”
“That was just testing your abilities. To kill him, you’d have to fight a lot better than that.” Najib leaned over and pulled out a small roll of cloth from the bedside table. He placed it on the blanket next to Sigrid, then strode to the doorway. “Take good care of her, Camilla.”
When she couldn’t hear his footsteps walking down the stairs anymore, Sigrid pressed a hand to her ribs and raised a brow at Camilla. “He knew where the bandages were?”
“A lucky guess.”
“How silly of me to even think he’d been here before,” Sigrid replied, wryly. “You’re allowed to have relations, you know.”
“Relationships are another story.” Camilla moved to stand in front of her and gestured with her hands. “Arms up. Let’s get these clothes off you and see what damage he did.”
“Not too much.”
“There’s blood leaking out of your sleeve. I think he did more to you than you know.”
Sigrid lifted her arms and let her friend do whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be surprised if the pain simply wasn’t registering. She’d gotten good at that even as a young child. Pain didn’t make her brain spark the way others did. It simply was. The white hot edge could take control of her mind, or she could refuse to let it.
Camilla stripped every inch of clothing from her body then forced her to lie down. A small bottle of salve appeared in her hand, but Sigrid didn’t know where Camilla had found it. Maybe she healed more people in this room often. Or maybe, she’d known this was going to happen.
While her friend worked, Sigrid stared up at the ceiling. Worn, wooden beams crisscrossed above her. Someone had poured years of work into this place, so much that it had managed to stay standing after the test of time.
And now, the Beastkin were going to be the ones to pull it to the ground piece by piece.
“What dark thoughts are going through your head?” Camilla asked. She wound a strip of cloth around Sigrid’s arm. “I know that look all too well.”
“I can’t control them,” she whispered. “I was supposed to bring them somewhere they could live. Where they could prosper and become a people that other kingdoms would admire. All I’ve done is given them free rein to be even more animalistic than before.”
“That’s not true. They have a warm bed, clothing, food aplenty. That’s a lot better than the lives they had before.”
“It’s better than the Bymerians had,” Sigrid corrected. “The Wildewyn Beastkin are used to living in castles. They’re used to speaking with nobles and wearing gowns made of silk. How am I supposed to replicate that kind of life for them?”
“Has anyone asked for that?” Camilla gently cupped Sigrid’s cheek and forced her head to turn. “Even the Wildewyn Beastkin are happy here. I’d know if they weren’t.”
“This isn’t what we were supposed to live like. We were supposed to create a kingdom, and all we’re creating is ruins.”
She thought for a second that Camilla might argue. A spark of anger, one she’d never seen before, made Camilla’s jaw tick before her friend finally blew out a breath.
“I can’t argue with that,” Camilla replied, turning her attention back to the jagged wound across Sigrid’s chest. “This isn’t the place I thought it would be either. But the Beastkin don’t want a queen. They don’t want someone with a crown telling them what to do, because that’s not how it works in the wild. They don’t need a royal, they need a leader.”
“And yet, they look to Jabbar for that.” Sigrid winced when Camilla prodded the edge of her wound. Dirt and mud encrusted it, likely going to cause some kind of fever if Sigrid didn’t shift again soon.
She didn’t want to give the dragon another reason to take control over her body. It had already done enough in the past few hours.
Camilla smoothed a hand down Sigrid’s arm and laced their fingers together. She tugged until Sigrid looked back at her. “The only time they listened to you was after the battle. When they saw what you would do for them. That you would sacrifice everything to keep them safe.”
“Then they want a martyr, not a leader.”
They both froze, stared at each other, and an idea formed in Sigrid’s mind at the same time as it did Camilla’s.
“No, Sigrid,” she said. “You’re not doing what you’re thinking.”