Curse Breaker (2)

24

We don't stay for much longer.

Killian asks Myers a few more questions about Torinne, about the map and his past, but Myers answers nothing that the deems unrelated to the task ahead. I keep to myself, studying the map by the table, before Myers announces that we have over stayed our welcome.

He doesn't even look at me as he shoves us from his cabin, the sun low in the sky. I stand motionless at his door as he bolts she door shut in my face, only the rolled up piece of paper in my bag evidence of our visit.

"Come on," Killian says, rolling his shoulders back. "I told Lei to meet us at the fields. Hopefully they have another horse."

I trail after him numbly, feeling dejected. The weight of the task ahead drags my feet, but no more than the lingering feelings of anger burning in my stomach. The feeling confuses me. How is it possible to feel such strong emotions over somebody I never met? Someone I never got to meet. Someone I could have met.

I've been an orphan for over a year now. But walking behind Killian through the outskirts of the Veymaw forest, I feel the loss of both of my parents as strong as the day my father died.

Killian glances over his shoulder towards me, slowing his pace to match mine. He doesn't say anything as we walk side by side, and I don't have the energy to break the silence. Instead, I think of the first time we walked like this, almost in this very spot.

I'd been so skeptical of him then, when he'd come to lunch with my friends and hammered me with questions. His story didn't add up. And yet, beneath the autumn evening glow, he'd been the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The season has changed, but that still remains the same.

We reach the fields, what little warmth the evening provides seeping from the air with each second. At this time of year, the fields are empty, but still, we stick to the treeline as we wait for the others to arrive, and as Killian said, hopefully with a horse.

I settle on the edge of a fallen log, staring out at the crops. It wasn't long ago when Casimir was amongst them, gleaming with sweat and smelling of wheat. Killian leans against a tree opposite me, fiddling mindlessly with his belt.

I watch him closely, admiring the way his fingers glide over the blade of his sheathed dagger as he adjusts the metal link.

"Killian?" He glances up. "What was your mother like?"

"My mother?" He blinks, slow, thinking hard about the question. "She was... strong. You couldn't sneak anything past her. I suppose that's what made her such a good commander." I keep silent, trying to picture her in my mind. Did she have the same inky hair, mesmirising eyes, and angular features? "But when she wasn't fronting to an entire Kingdom, she was soft, too. My father had my sister and I on strict training regimes. But my mother used to sneak us Strawberry biscuits in the middle of the night from the Queen's chambers after they had meetings. I always told my sister she stole them for us, when really I knew she could take biscuits whenever she wanted."

I can't help the small smile tugging at my lips. The story makes me want to shuffle closer to him, to ask more about his life and his mother and what it is like to have one. To feel the caress of her touch, the warmth of her smile. But I stay seated on the log, adding the story to the small library of things I know about Killian--filled with facts and secrets I have no idea about the truth of.

"You miss her," I say.

"More than anything."

"So your parents are still alive?"

He presses his lips together. "I hope so."

I want to ask more about his family. Lei's words rise to mind, the way her eyes drifted to Killian as she spoke about what Cadence did to Raven. Questions tug at my tongue but I swallow them. I want to understand the truth of his background, but his stories are too confusing. I can't tell what's real and what's a lie anymore.