We were quiet for a bit, and despite the gloomy atmosphere that surrounded us, the sound of clumping hooves behind us, the calls of various birds overhead, and the gurgling of a nearby brook slowly eased my nerves.
“How is your sister, Toni?” the prince asked. “I trust she is well.”
“She is. Thank you for asking.”
“Is she still with Jacob Knight?”
“Yes. They’ve been rebuilding her agency.”
Toni had a mate tracking agency, which had been destroyed during a battle that Kalyll himself had been part of.
“I’m glad to hear that. I know it caused her no small amount of distress to see it damaged. I know you care about your job as much as your sister cares about her agency,” Kalyll said, taking me by surprise. “I understand that you’re very good at what you do and that you love working with children.”
“I do,” I responded in a small voice as I thought of little Muriel and my other patients.
It was very thoughtful of him to realize that. Lots of people never seemed to notice the things that were important to others. So many seemed to think that because they valued fancy cars, jewelry, expensive clothes, and the like that others also should care about those things. Caring about the well-being of others or a job well done was foreign to many people.
“What made you choose this path?” he asked.
“I guess there wasn’t much of a choice, really. When you’re a Skew, your skills seem to define you, no matter what, especially a skill like healing. Since I was little, my instincts drove me to heal a scrape, a bruise, a swollen bug bite.” I smiled, remembering how many times I played doctor with my little sisters.
“I understand.” He looked me deep in the eyes and nodded. “I don’t have a special skill or a calling like that and often wonder how different things would be if I did. I, however, have a duty, but those are two very different things.”
No special skill? He was like a mage with the sword, so maybe he didn’t need one.
There seemed to be a certain sadness in his statement, as if his duty weighed on him. It wasn’t hard to imagine how inheriting the responsibilities of an entire kingdom could make someone feel that way. Duty had nothing to do with the drive or the need to do something. Duty was about being required to act, even when there was no desire to do so.
Yes, duty could easily be a burden.
I wanted to ask him if he would like to renounce being a prince, but that felt like a very private question, and despite our truce, we weren’t on friendly enough terms to get personal.
“I don’t think I need to ask why you chose to treat children,” he said. “They are so much cuter.”
I laughed.
Suddenly, thunder crackled overhead, spooking the horses and making everything around us rumble. Quickly, Kalyll had his hand over my reins, saying something under his breath that calmed the mare instantly.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his fingers brushing mine as he pulled away.
“Yes. That was very loud.”
“I suspect we’ll have heavy rain before long.”
“How fun,” Kryn said behind us.
“You’re in serious need of a bath,” Arabis said. “You should welcome the rain.”
“The only bath I want to take is a hot one, inside a giant tub and, preferably, with a nice, soft lady by my side.”
Kalyll cleared his throat in warning, his eyes flicking in my direction for a second.
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m used to this type of banter. It helps people stay sane, I think.”
“Kryn can get out of hand sometimes.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. I have an older brother who can sometimes be as crude as raw steak.”
I didn’t want Kalyll to think I was a prude, even if he was, though I doubted that. The prince appeared to be good friends with the haughty redhead, and since Kryn didn’t seem like the kind to sacrifice his hubris for anyone’s sake, I suspected Kalyll was well acquainted with this brand of coarse shenanigans.