KIERAN POV
I didn't sleep that night. How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the gallows being built in the square, heard the hammering that continued until midnight.
At dawn, a sharp knock rattled my door.
"Kieran." My sister Elara's voice, urgent and low. "Let me in. Now."
I stumbled out of bed and opened the door. Elara slipped inside, her face pale in the early morning light. She was twenty-six, elegant and smart—everything our family valued. Father actually listened when she spoke, which was more than he'd ever done for me.
"You can't go to war," she whispered, gripping my shoulders. "Father's sending you to die, Kieran. Everyone knows it."
"I don't have a choice. If I run, they'll arrest Mira's family."
"I know." Elara's eyes blazed with anger I'd rarely seen. "Father made sure of that. He told the Church missionaries about your... friendship with the blacksmith's daughter. He set the trap before you even knew you were caught."
My stomach twisted. "Why does he hate me so much?"
"Because you remind him of someone he'd rather forget." Elara pulled a small leather pouch from her dress pocket. "Our mother's younger brother—your Uncle James. He was kind like you, cared about people instead of power. Father sent him to war fifteen years ago. He never came back."
I'd never heard of Uncle James. "Father never mentioned—"
"Father erased him. Like he's trying to erase you." Elara pressed the pouch into my hands. "Take this. It's fifty gold coins—my entire dowry savings. Hide it where no one will find it."
"Elara, no! You need that money—"
"You need to survive more than I need a fancy wedding." She squeezed my hands tight. "Listen to me. The war camp is three weeks' march north. Once you're there, if things go badly, use this money to disappear. Change your name. Start over somewhere far away."
"But Mira's family—"
"I'll protect them." Elara's voice turned steel-hard. "I'm marrying Lord Blackwood's son next month, remember? He's high up in the Church. Once I'm his wife, I'll have influence. I'll make sure nothing happens to the blacksmith's family, whether you're here or not."
Hope flickered in my chest. "You'd do that?"
"You're my baby brother." Her eyes went shiny with tears. "Of course I would. Just promise me you'll survive. That's all I ask. Survive and come home, or survive and run. But survive."
I hugged her tight, this sister who'd always protected me from Marcus's bullying and Father's coldness. "Thank you."
"Now hide that money before someone comes." She pulled back, wiping her eyes quickly. "And Kieran? Don't trust the officers. Don't trust the Church. Don't trust anyone who talks about glory and honor. Those words get young men killed."
She slipped out as quietly as she'd come.
I hid the pouch under a loose floorboard beneath my bed, my mind racing. Fifty gold coins could buy a new life somewhere else. Maybe Mira could come with me. Maybe—
Another knock. Louder this time.
"Lord Kieran!" A soldier's voice. "Your father requires you in his study. Immediately."
Here we go.
Father sat behind his massive desk like a judge about to deliver a death sentence. Marcus stood beside him, smirking. Thomas leaned against the wall, looking uncomfortable but saying nothing.
"You leave at dawn tomorrow," Father said without preamble. "The conscription cart will take you to the northern war camp. You'll serve under Commander Voss."
"Yes, sir." My voice came out steady, which surprised me.
"Try not to embarrass the family name." Father returned to his papers, already dismissing me. "If you manage to survive, perhaps you'll finally prove yourself useful."
Marcus snorted. "He'll probably trip over his own sword and impale himself before seeing any real fighting."
"That's enough, Marcus," Thomas said quietly. It was the first time I'd ever heard him defend me.
Father's head snapped up. "Something to say, Thomas?"
Thomas hesitated, then shook his head. "No, Father."
The coward. I shouldn't have expected anything else.
I turned to leave, but Father's voice stopped me cold.
"One more thing, Kieran. I've had your friend Mira and her father placed under house supervision. Church guards are watching them. If you desert, they hang. If you run, they hang. If you do anything other than march north tomorrow and fight like you're told, they hang. Am I clear?"
Ice flooded my veins. "Crystal clear."
"Good. Dismissed."
I walked out on numb legs. He'd actually done it. Turned Mira and her father into hostages to make sure I'd go quietly to my death.
I spent the rest of the day packing my few belongings and saying goodbye to people who looked at me with pity. Everyone knew. The spare son was being thrown away.
That evening, a servant girl I barely knew approached me in the hallway. She pressed a folded note into my hand and hurried away before I could ask questions.
I opened it in my room.
The handwriting was Mira's:
Kieran—Don't worry about us. Your sister visited today. She promised protection. Please survive. That's all I ask. The world needs more good people, and you're the best person I know. Come back to me. —M
I clutched the note like a lifeline. At least Elara was already working to protect them.
I tried to sleep but couldn't. Tomorrow I'd leave everything behind—my home, my life, the girl I loved. I'd march north to fight monsters in a war I didn't understand.
Near midnight, a soft scraping sound came from my window.
I bolted upright. Someone was climbing up to my second-floor room.
The window opened, and a figure dressed in black slipped inside.
My heart hammered. An assassin? Had Father decided to kill me before I could even leave?
But then the figure pulled back their hood.
Mira.
"Are you insane?" I whispered frantically. "If the guards catch you—"
"They won't. I climbed the oak tree." She crossed the room and grabbed my face in both hands. "I had to see you. I had to tell you something important."
"Mira, you need to leave. If Father finds out—"
"I'm pregnant, Kieran."
The world stopped.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant." Tears streamed down her face. "Two months. I just found out yesterday. I wasn't going to tell you, but I couldn't let you leave without knowing. You're going to be a father."
My legs gave out. I sat hard on the bed, my mind spinning in a thousand directions at once.
A baby. Our baby.
"Does anyone else know?" I managed to ask.
"No. Just you and me."
"Mira..." I pulled her close, protective fury rising in my chest. "I'll come back. I swear to you, I'll survive this war and come back. For you. For our child."
She kissed me desperately. "Please. Please don't die."
"I won't. I promise."
She left the way she came, climbing back down the oak tree into the darkness.
I sat alone in my room, one hand pressed against my chest where my heart pounded like war drums.
Everything had changed.
I wasn't just fighting to survive anymore.
I was fighting to come home to my family.
But as the first light of dawn crept through my window, a horrible thought struck me:
What if Father found out about Mira's pregnancy?
He'd already threatened her family to control me.
What would he do if he knew she carried his grandchild?