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(KBTCM) Ch 21: Rumors Of The Unworthy, Promise Of Marriage!
🕑 Added 2025-07-04 19:38:26 +0000 UTC(Kerren) The wind carried the smell of ash and spice through the crooked alleys of Grelling Row. I pulled my hood tighter over my head as I
(Kerren)
The wind carried the smell of ash and spice through the crooked alleys of Grelling Row. I pulled my hood tighter over my head as I walked, clutching the small leather pouch that held what few coins father had tossed at me before shoving me out the door.
"Bring back bread. Meat, if we can afford it. If not, don't come back empty-handed," he'd barked.
Not exactly heartwarming instructions, but that was Bromir for you. Always barking. Always scowling. Always expecting me to shoulder the weight of the world—or at least the furnace.
My boots scuffed along the cracked stones of the street, dodging around puddles of thick brown water. Kids ran barefoot past me, laughing through dirt-smeared faces. One of them had a stick and was swinging it like a sword, pretending to be the great King Thandor, no doubt. Poor kid. He didn't even know that someone of his standing would never be able to become a knight, or even hold a true sword properly.
The market buzzed with voices—some loud, some hushed. Everyone was talking about the same thing.
"You hear what happened with the Prince?"
"That Draymoor pup? Ran off like a squealing pig, I heard!"
"They say she almost ate him."
"Serves him right."
"Nah, I heard she is a monster. Always was. Just like the old stories."
I stopped in front of the bread stand, barely noticing the loaves stacked like bricks of gold behind the old vendor's glass shield. My ears were too busy soaking up the noise around me.
Someone behind me whispered, "The coming-of-age ceremony is cursed now. Ain't no marriage happening after that fiasco."
"Poor girl," someone else muttered.
"She's no girl," an older man near the corner scoffed. "She's a damn mountain with hair. If you ask me, no man should be forced to marry something like that."
I clenched my fists. My palm itched with heat, the faintest flicker of warmth tracing my fingertips. I took a deep breath and shook it off.
"Just one loaf," I said to the vendor, fishing out a few copper pieces. The man didn't even look at me as he counted them, his attention fixed on the gossip circling like vultures.
The moment I had the bread in hand, I started walking again—quicker this time, just needing to get away. The words followed me anyway. Monster. Beast. Freak.
They didn't know her. Not the way I did, granted I only met her twice.
I rounded the corner of the narrow street that sloped up toward the castle's silhouette in the far-off sky. It rose above the rest of Vaeloria like a second mountain, glowing white and gold under the sun's watchful eye. From here, it looked quiet. Peaceful even. But I knew better.
"I wonder how she's doing..." I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
I thought back to the last time I saw her—Rowena, with her laugh that could shake trees and her smile that made you forget how utterly massive she was. She'd walked me to the glowing oak herself, told Sylara off with nothing but a look, and... she treated me like a person. Not a speck. Not a bug, or a piece of trash to be removed. A person.
That's more than most do.
The bread was getting heavier in my hand. Or maybe it was my thoughts. I shifted it under my arm, leaning slightly on my hammer slung over my back. The head of it thumped softly against my spine with each step. There was a time I thought the weight of it meant something—meant strength. Now, I wasn't so sure.
If I was strong, I would've said something when those people back there called her a monster, or better yet I would've learned to use my powers a long time ago .
I looked up at the castle again, squinting into the sunlight.
She's probably sitting alone right now. Angry. Embarrassed. Hurt. Maybe all of it.
I took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, Rowena," I said under my breath. "You deserve better than him. And better than them."
I tightened my grip on the bread and started walking back home. I'd have to face Bromir again, but my thoughts weren't on my father anymore. They were somewhere high above Grelling Row—in a room filled with silence, and a girl bigger than the sky trying to hold her heart together.
***
(Rowena)
I sat on the edge of my bed, knees tucked close, back curled, my long red hair hanging over one shoulder like a banner of defeat. In my hands, resting comfortably in my open palms, were Lyra and Arienne—two of my oldest, dearest friends. Little in size, yes, but massive in the space they held in my heart.
"I'm telling you," I muttered, voice barely above a breath, "he deserved it. All of it. The way he looked at me, like I was a beast out of some old fairy tale... I was just teaching that horrible man a lesson."
Arienne—ever the bold one—snorted and crossed her arms, pacing casually across my palm like it was her personal stage. "Lesson? You went easy on him, Ro. If I had a fraction of your strength, I would've punted that pompous rat straight back to Draymoor."
Lyra chuckled beside her, but it didn't sound quite like the usual bubbly laugh I was used to. It was quieter. Soft. Not sad, exactly... but off.
I blinked and tilted my hand slightly, letting Lyra step into focus. "You okay?" I asked, lowering my voice a bit, almost instinctively. "You haven't said much."
Lyra looked up at me, eyes shimmering just a little in the golden afternoon light pouring through the window. She tucked a lock of chestnut-brown hair behind her ear. "I was going to wait... but I guess now's as good a time as any."
I could feel my heart tighten in my chest. "Wait for what?"
She looked between me and Arienne before finally speaking. "I'm leaving Vaeloria," she said quietly. "I'm engaged now... to a noble from Dalgrin. My family arranged it. I'll be moving there within the next few weeks."
I felt the words hit like a cold wind through an open window.
Dalgrin. Of course. One of the last few true allies our kingdom still had. It made political sense. I wasn't surprised. And yet... I still felt like something had been yanked right out of me.
"You're leaving?" I whispered. "Just like that?"
"I didn't want to," Lyra said quickly, stepping forward. "You have to believe me, Ro. I didn't ask for any of this. I fought it for months... but in the end, I couldn't stop it."
I brought her closer, cupping my hand like a little stage for her to stand on. My eyes blurred and burned before I even realized what was happening.
"I envy you," I murmured. "Even if it's not your choice... at least someone wants you. At least you have a path."
Lyra's face fell, her hands tightening at her sides.
I sniffled and laughed at the same time. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm happy for you, Lyra. Really, I am. But—stars above—I'm going to miss you so much."
Arienne sat down cross-legged in my palm, watching the two of us, her usual sarcasm taking a respectful break.
"Then have the wedding here," I said suddenly, tears streaming now without permission. "In the castle. I'll make the arrangements myself. I want to see you walk down the aisle, even if it's only from the rafters so I don't step on anyone."
Lyra covered her mouth, but her shoulders shook, and I knew she was crying too.
"Rowena..." she said, her voice trembling. "You have no idea how much that would mean to me."
"I insist," I said firmly, wiping my eyes with the back of one hand. "And you'd better visit, Lyra. I swear, if you disappear, I'll come find you. Kingdoms be damned."
Lyra laughed through the tears and walked up to my cheek. Her tiny arms wrapped around my skin as much as they could, and I pressed my head slightly to her, feeling the warmth of her hug, fragile and impossibly strong.
"We'll always be friends," she whispered. "No matter how far. You'll find your person one day, Ro. I know it."
I held her there, breathing in the moment, letting it fill the empty parts of my chest that Prince Karlor had cracked open. And in that moment, despite everything, I believed her.
Even if just for a little while.
