Page 35 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Gemma walks beside her, composed and contained, but the edge is still there. I catch what they’re quietly talking about: her childhood. I slow without meaning to. I’ve never heard her talk about her past, not once.

“Finn was terrified of the dark until he was, like, twelve,” Gemma says. “Used to make me check under his bed for Savages. Every single night.”

Rosie laughs. “Finn, who can disarm three guards at once?”

“That Finn.” Gemma’s grin is wicked. “He was terrified of what might be lurking under his bed.”

“What did you do?”

“Told him they were under there, obviously. He’d run straight to our mom’s bed.”

Rosie’s laughter pushes Gemma on.

“My mom used to tell us fairy tales to calm him down. Of a world where water moved in endless spirals around chains of floating islands, where people could bend the sea itself. Cities carved into mountains so high the sky itself danced with light. About a place where islands of fire rose from the ocean itself.”

She shakes her head, half-smiling. “Finn always wanted to see the cities in the clouds. I wanted to see the lagoons that glowed under the moon.”

Rosie’s laughter falters, and her expression shifts, like the story landed somewhere unexpected. Gemma doesn’t notice. She’s still half-lost in the memory.

Footsteps crunch ahead, too even and too deliberate. Has to be nobles; they always walk like the ground belongs to them. I suppose it does. Once they’re awakened, the land answers them when they ask.

Blue and silver emerge through the hedges. The Davriks.

Bastion walks at the front, wearing authority like it’s already been granted. Beaumont follows with Belinda between them, guarded like the investment she is. Bastion’s gaze lands on me first.

“Commander,” he says easily.

“Bastion,” I reply.

Belinda turns to Gemma with the practiced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Gemma, right?” she says. “We heard about this morning. Quite impressive, from what they’re saying.”

She sounds curious in the way nobles are when they’re already counting advantages or adversaries.

“Where did you study?” The question sounds light, but it’s not.

Gemma doesn’t miss a beat. “Here and there.”

Beaumont hums like that confirms something for him.

“Unconventional,” Bastion says. “But effective, it seems.”

His attention lingers a moment too long, settling on the parts of her that don’t belong to this place. My hand flexes at my side before I catch it. I shift half a step closer, close enough to remind them she’s not unattended.

“With the trials approaching, proper preparation is so critical. It would be a shame to keep that kind of skill limited to just the royal sparring sessions,” Beaumont adds.

“Precisely.” Bastion’s smile is easy, like we’re all in agreement. “Which is why we thought, since we’ll all be in the trials together, we might train alongside the princes.” He gestures toward the training yards.

Bastion doesn’t look to me for permission. The decision was made before they walked over.

“I’ll have my steward coordinate with the swordmaster,” he adds easily. “No need to burden you with the logistics, Commander.”

Beaumont’s eyes flick to me, not with deference, but like he’s measuring exactly how far my authority reaches.

Chapter 11

Gemira