Neeve stiffens beside me as we place the last tin into the oven. I turn and follow her gaze to see Lucien strolling in. He drops down into a chair at one of the far tables and kicks his boots up.
I’ve been training with him every day this week, but always in the afternoons, so I'm surprised he’s here so early, especially considering how tired and grumpy he's been. Since our first flight, I’ve tried to ask more questions, updates from the Citadel, but he only grumbles and shuts me down.
“You okay?” I ask Neeve, noticing how tense her jaw has gotten.
“There’s just something about him that puts me on edge.” She remarks, turning back to the oven. “We all want Serrane gone—for the walls to come down—but then what? What happens after that?” Bending down, she starts loading wood into the bottom. My knees groan as I join her. “I think we need a new system. But Lucien’s more old-school. He wants to see the monarchy back. And I’ve always had the feeling he wouldn’t think twice about putting a dagger in someone’s back if they got in his way.”
My attention flicks toward the back of the tent, where Lucien is throwing nuts into the air for JC. Her small blue body sweeping down after them and catching them before they hit the ground.
“Anyway,” Neeve continues, shovelling in more wood. “Not sure how they think the monarchy is going to come back. It’s not like the curse has lifted or anything.”
“The curse?” I ask too quickly.
She squints at me for a second. “Yeah… didn’t they teach you about it in the Air Realm? It’s drilled into us Earth kids as soon as we start school.”
My grip tightens on a piece of kindling. I hadn't realised until now that she doesn't know I'm an Outerlander... I mean technically I was born in the Innerlands, and I came from the Citadel. Still, I'm not sure what she thinks of Outerlanders yet, so I don't correct her.
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten,” I reply, passing her the stick.
She takes it with a casual shrug and places it in the furnace.
“Well, for one thing, the whole kingdom is cursed. Since the Treaty, if you try to step through the gates of Aurelia, you die.” She claps her hands once—sharp enough to make me jump. “Poof. You turn to ash.Gone. But that apparently wasn’t enough, so there’s a second curse too—on the Aurelian bloodline:No trueheir of Aurelia shall rise again. May their seed be thin, their wombs frail, their line crumble to dust.”
She rattles off the saying like it's a bedtime nursery rhyme. Probably was, knowing how fucked up the Innerlands system is.
“So basically,” she finishes, “if any of them tried to have children, it didn’t go well. Most didn’t survive, and the ones that did, didn’t last long. So over time, the bloodlines have faded out.”
We stand, and she turns to grab a match for the fire before holding it out to me. I stare at it, hesitation creeping in—but before I can take it, a loud cough sounds behind us. Lucien is no longer at the back of the tent but across the table from us. JC perched on his shoulder, both of them watching us like they’ve been here longer than I realised.
“Sorry to break up this little history session,” He quips, the leather of his jacket pulling as he crosses his arms over his chest. “But we’ve got the briefing later, so if you want to fly, we need to go now.”
Shit. The thought of being up in the air already makes my stomach churn. I was hoping for at least another hour before any training started.
Maybe I could tell him that I'm busy, to come back later. But he’s already warned me that next week he won't be around as much, and I need as much flying time as possible.
Across from us, JC lets out a tiny roar as Ahria slips past, stealing a nut from her claws. I track them as they glide around, until my gaze drops back to Neeve—and the unlit match still sitting in her hand.
Yeah, I’ll take heights over fire any day.
“I should go.” I tell Neeve, brushing the flour from my hands. “Catch you at the briefing?”
Her gaze stays locked on Lucien, but she gives a small nod.
An hour later,JC lands hard, the impact shuddering through her massive frame—and before I can steady myself, her muscles bunch and roll beneath me, throwing me off her back and into the dirt.
I barely get my hands under me before the first wave hits, and I lurch forward, retching into the ground.
Lucien’s had me up and down at least ten times already this morning, and I’m starting to wish I’d stayed baking bread—or even taken my chances with Dave.
“You did good, Bloom.” He chuckles, some of the tension finally easing from his voice as he drops down beside me. “Next time, keep your focus fixed on the mountains, okay? But I think that's enough for today.”
“No.” I stay folded forward, arms braced around my waist. “Give me a second, and then let's go again.”
I will not be the girl who can’t handle this. I can do this.
Moving to stand, a blur of green darts past me as Ahria chases a cricket through the long grass. The motion sends another wave rolling through me, so I stay hunched over until the floor stops spinning—then push myself upright.
“Sorry, can’t. The briefing will start soon,” Lucien holds out a flask in my direction. “Here.”
