It helped ground her.
Shifting where she was, Sigrid reminded herself not to look up at the startled faces of the Earthen folk. At her hip was the golden mask they were used to, the one that so many Beastkin viewed as something terrible and bad.
It was a symbol of her responsibilities. A symbol of who she was, and what she had become. For the Beastkin, she shouldn’t wear it. But for the people here, the ones who had raised her, she would.
Sigrid affixed the golden mask to her face and sighed. It shouldn’t feel like a shield she’d put in place that no one could break through, but it did. Even now, after all she had fought for, and all she had won, she wanted to wear the mask just so that she could hide a little bit longer.
The Earthen folk were staring at her, but not because they could see her face. They likely hadn’t seen a Beastkin change before. That didn’t mean she needed to indulge in answering their questions or explain how it was possible.
They didn’t get to ask questions like that. They didn’t get to try and touch or tame her.
Footsteps rattled through the courtyard as armored boots raced down the stairs toward her.
“Ah, yes,” she muttered under her breath and straightened. “Hallmar’s personal guard still thinks I’m here to burn the whole place down.”
“Some things don’t change,” Camilla replied. A grin split her face with a bright happiness that Sigrid didn’t understand. How was it possible for her friend to feel so at ease here when so many ghosts roamed around them?
Hallmar strode behind his guards, impeccably dressed as always. He was a handsome man in his youth, and that had carried over as he aged like a fine wine. The stern look on his face was both intimidating and reassuring.
The emerald green of his velvet tunic was accented by golden threads embroidered in swirling patterns across the entirety of the jacket. A plain white shirt was open at the throat, revealing an amulet of blue quartz that eerily looked like ice. That was new. Or perhaps, he only wore it when he was welcoming important guests.
She wouldn’t know.
He lifted his arms in greeting and smiled at the two of them. “Ladies! Welcome home.”
And damned if she hadn’t been waiting for those words. Sigrid wanted to run into his arms as she would have as a child, feel the strength in them as they closed around her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest.
He’d always made her feel so safe when he hugged her like that. As if he could take the weight of the world from her, all her worries and fears, and place them somewhere else as long as she was in his arms.
But Sigrid wasn’t a child anymore. She was a queen of her own kingdom, a rival kingdom at that, and she couldn’t break that vow to her people by welcoming him as an old friend.
She swallowed hard, touched a finger to the edge of her mask to make sure it was still in place and nodded. “Thank you for the welcome. I wasn’t expecting a messenger from you any time soon.”
“And I wasn’t expecting to have a war on my doorstep.” He let his arms drop to his sides, one hand at his hip. She remembered he used to hide a wicked, curved blade in his pant leg. Had he brought a weapon to speak with her? As if she would ever attack him? “But this is still your home, Sigrid. If you ever have need of it.”
Camilla cocked her hip out to the side, raised a hand, and said, “I’m standing right here.”
His booming laugh filled the courtyard like sunlight after a storm. “I have missed your humor, Camilla. You are always welcome as well.”
“I know.” She flicked the ends of her braids over one shoulder and winked at him. “I just wanted to hear you say it one more time.”
This was how it had been, before the king thought it would be better for Sigrid to be married. Before an arrow had silenced a good man forever. Before the world had changed and a dragon had awoken in her soul.
She was grateful for the mask, because Sigrid couldn’t have hidden her crestfallen expression if she tried. “Shall we?” she asked.
“Ah, yes,” Hallmar replied, sweeping his arm out for them to follow him into the castle. “A little privacy after such a long trip would be greatly appreciated, I’m sure. Come with me, ladies.”
Sigrid didn’t correct him that they were to be given more respectful names now. She didn’t know what the Beastkin wanted to be called. Matriarch would have been correct long ago, but now there was a council of Beastkin making decisions, and they tried to throw their weight around no matter what she wanted to do.
Sometimes, it felt as though her council fought with her just because she had voiced an opinion. Anything she wanted to do, they wanted to do the exact opposite. It was like dealing with children at times. And she hadn’t signed up to be a mother.
She followed Hallmar into the castle and breathed out a sigh. Relaxation flooded through her veins at finally being in a place that was more familiar to her than the back of her hand. She knew every hidden corridor, every guard’s favorite napping place, and every leaf that would fall through the windows from old trees that peaked in to see what the humans were doing.
This place had been her childhood.
Ducking her head as they walked past a servant, she tried to tell herself that this was different now. She wouldn’t be able to act as she had before. Certainly, she’d always been the leader of the Beastkin. But there hadn’t been any power in the name.
Matriarch’s came and went. They advised the king on what their people wanted, but they didn’t have a choice in what the kingdom did. Their role was to take care of their people, which hadn’t changed. But now she had a castle, a war, an army…
Her mind was whirling. What did he want from them? What would he ask for that she wasn’t going to be able to give?
How did she say no to the man who had helped raise her?
A hand slipped into hers, strong fingers squeezing in encouragement. Sigrid glanced over at Camilla, freely without her mask, easy-going and so confident it made Sigrid’s heart clench.
Her sister smiled. “Everything will be fine.”
“I just want to get this over with.”
“I don’t think he wants to wait.” Camilla nodded ahead of them. “He’s taking us to his private quarters. That means no one else is involved but us. Sounds like he’s going to ask a favor.”
“One I won’t be able to give.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
Sigrid snorted. “The Beastkin are many things, but forgiving they are not. Even our own sisters want to see this place torn down stone by stone. They aren’t going to help the Earthen folk.”
“I think you judge them too harshly. They’re angry right now, and they have a right to be. But they haven’t suddenly become heartless.”
It was the reminder Sigrid needed. Her people, although animalistic by nature, still saw the good in people. She should trust them to do the right thing when the opportunity arose.
Blowing out a breath, she nodded and squeezed Camilla’s hand in return. “Thank you. You always seem to have the answer I’m looking for.”
“Your head is so far in the sky; I can’t even imagine what you see up there. I’m happy to give you perspective from the ground level.” Camilla winked. “Or remind you when your head is getting too large, Matriarch.”