Target

A Tale of Ace Gallagher Short from Book #7
by Jill D'Entremont

Ace paused before knocking on the door. His mouth was held in a tight frown, and he tried to take a deep breath to straighten it out.

The frown had formed when he was in the dungeon questioning Sir Mercurio. Disappointment brewed when the Daethan knight only laughed at what he had done. The disappointment bubbled into anger, and by the time he had traversed the palace and reached Keturah’s room, he was furious. He was furious, not only from the continual disregard for honor from the leadership of Daethos, but also because of the way Keturah had been humiliated. It sickened him to think that anyone could enjoy causing such turmoil.

He gently rapped his knuckles against the wooden door before resting his clenched fist against the wood. He was surprised at the severity of his emotion. Yes, he cared about Keturah, but he cared about James, Elise, Elliot, and his other friends, too. Keturah was no different.

He swallowed as his eyes lost their focus. Was Keturah no different?

“Yes?” 

The voice replied from the other side of the door, returning Ace’s mind to the present. He huffed out his bad mood in a breath before opening the door.

Keturah was seated on her bed. Her body was facing away from the door, but her head was turned to see who was entering.

The beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips when she saw him in the doorway.

Ace tried to smile as well, but Keturah’s current appearance caught him off guard. Her navy hair, once held in a long braid that reached her lower back, had been sliced short. It now fell in uneven clumps around her neck. A bandage was wrapped around a bloody wound on her arm, and other bruises and scrapes could be found on her bare arms, face, and neck. The frown again weighed down the corners of his lips.

“You can come in,” she turned somewhat and patted the edge of the bed when he remained where he stood.

He nodded and stepped inside her room, pushing the door closed behind him.

Keturah watched him as he walked toward her. He was no longer wearing the robes and fancy garb to signify his status; instead, he had stripped down to a light blue tunic and dark pants. She could tell he was more comfortable this way, and, admittedly, she was much more comfortable seeing him this way.

“Are you doing okay?” He asked as she sat down beside her.

“I’m fine,” she said simply. “Did he tell you anything?”

The frown deepened; Katurah was always one to get to the point. “Nothing I didn’t already know. He captured you and planned to hold you hostage to negotiate the duke’s release.”

She puffed a breath through her lips. “Of course.”

“But, he confirmed another fear,” his green eyes slid to hers as his tone grew serious. “He–and the other knights–have been given orders to target anyone I’m close to.”

Her dark navy brows furrowed. “Orders from whom?”

“King Rei, of course,” his eyes narrowed. “Instead of confronting me himself, he’s trying to whittle me down by attacking the people I care about. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like they’re allowed to kill… just…” He raked his fingers through his hair, growing more visibly upset. “I should have known. That has to be why the theater burned, and why my house in Fortanya was robbed and Elliot was beat up–and why you were captured. Then, he figured he’d humiliate you while he was at it to just twist the knife in a little more.”

Keturah watched Ace carefully as he bent himself over his knees. The hair he had tried to brush away now hung over his eyes in strands of white and brown. His brows were furrowed, his hands wrung together, and his usual confidence and carefree nature was striped away. The burden of his status and the weight of their situation was on his shoulders. She soon found herself frowning along with him.

“That’s why I brought James and Elise and Elliot and Mioko and Dawn–that’s why I told them to come here!” He shook his head, frustrated. “I thought they'd be safe here–I’m supposed to be keeping everyone safe!”

Her hand grasped onto his, disrupting his tirade.

“You are,” she said calmly. “That's why you sent me to help. Now that they’re here, they’re safe.”

“And you got attacked and captured because I sent you out!” His hand slipped out of her grasp as he used it to gesture away.

“That was the risk I took when I left Kalgara.”

“But that’s–”

“My orders were to make sure Dawn and her children got here safely,” she stressed, interrupting him. “And if allowing Mercurio to capture me distracted him so they could get here safely, that is what matters.” 

“Then I shouldn’t have ordered you–”

“I could have declined.”

“Keturah–”

“My capture is not your fault!” She said sharply, her short hair falling around her face.

“And, it’s not yours either!” Ace snapped back.

The two fell into silence with their eyes locked upon each other. Both were pained; Ace, because Keturah had been mistreated due to orders he had given, and Keturah, because Ace seemed much more upset than she was expecting him to be.

Ace idly reached up to her neck, taking strands of her uneven hair into his fingers. “I hate that he cut your hair.”

She awkwardly turned away from him, and she instead looked across the room to the mirror above her vanity. Her blue eyes traced the unfamiliar shape of her shortened hair.

“...It was silly to think I would just… grow it out indefinitely.”

“Not really,” he tried.

She adjusted her eyes in the mirror to find Ace’s reflection looking back at her. “Yes, really,” she sneered, “as if refusing to cut my hair would have brought my sister home.”

Ace tread carefully with a softened tone. “I’m sure you did it to remember her, too.”

“It was still silly.”

He shrugged. “Who knows; she may still come back.”

“She’s not,” she uttered as a breath.

“You never know.”

She turned to look at him directly. “Ace, I don’t even know if Talyn’s still alive.”

His lips remained parted to speak, but he did not. Her tone had been too bitter.

She mashed her lips together and turned back to the mirror. “It was time for me to let go. Maybe it’s good that Mercurio cut it.”

Ace was still watching her. “I would have preferred it to be your decision.”

Her blue eyes darted to him, taken aback by the sincerity and poignancy of his words. 

“You’re always so focused on your duty,” his eyes fell away. “You’re constantly sacrificing your own desires for everyone else. And while I admire that in you,” he paused as he found her eyes again, “I wish you could allow yourself some time to feel your own feelings.”

Her brows twitched as she continued looking into Ace’s green eyes. She had been whittled down into silence by both his words and by the way he was currently looking at her. Her face was flushed with color, but she could not look away this time.

The man suddenly got up. “I have an idea.”

She blinked and sat back. “What?”

Without asking, he opened the drawer to her vanity across the room. “I think you have enough hair for a new braid.”

“Ace–what??” She scooted from the bed. “No, no, no,” she wedged her fingers into the drawer in an attempt to stop him.

She did not stop him soon enough, as he produced a large, bronze hair clip in the shape of butterfly wings. “Yes–watch!” He said, despite promptly walking around to her back.

“No!” She was forced to look into the mirror in an attempt to see what he was doing. Her taller figure blocked much of him from view, but in a matter of moments, she could feel his fingers comb through her hair. “Ace, you don’t have to do this,” she tried to move her head so she could see the side of it in the mirror.

He adjusted his stance. “Stop moving.”

She huffed. “Do you even know how to braid hair??”

“Well, yeah,” he said matter-of-factly. “How do you think Lady’s mane always looks so great?”

“...I didn’t know it was you doing it!”

Keturah watched what she could in the mirror, and sure enough, Ace was able to take the strands still left to her and fish them into a slightly messy braid. It hugged the back of her head and ended at her neck, and it was held in place with the teeth of the hair clip.

He tucked his hands against his chest, smiling proudly at his work. 

She looked from the corner of her eye to see as much as she could in the mirror. She caught a glimpse of his smile in the reflection, and she turned around. Her expression was half dumbfounded, but half grateful.

Ace’s smirk melted into a thoughtful smile, and he looked at her as if he were in awe. Perhaps he was. He had always felt awed by Keturah, from her strength to her commitment to her nation, allies, and friends; but in these last few weeks, he was beginning to feel something more. 

Whether or not she had realized she was doing it, Keturah had slowly been chipping away at his heart, creating cracks that new emotion could begin seeping through.

Keturah found herself mirroring his expression. Ace had always been a welcome respite to the daily grind of guarding the palace and training for battles they hoped they’d never need to fight. His silliness, banter, and the way he viewed the world were steadily breaking away at her defenses, leaving her wide open for what more he could bring to her.

After years of feeling unequipped for romance, she would have never expected an ex-gambler to win her heart.

Their eyes dipped as they leaned together and shared a kiss.

The act was like an awakening. It roused an emotion that had so long been carried within his chest as a cumbersome stone. In this moment, at once, a feeling so familiar–yet so very unique–burst into his being and filled himself with warmth.

Still, the same pain of regret eked in. His lips remained parted when he pulled away. 

She could tell something was wrong. “Should I have done that?” She whispered, still close enough that he could feel her breath.

“Yes,” he also spoke softly. “But… I worry.”

“About what?”

“That you’ll have a bigger target on your back.”

Her eyes locked onto his. “I already have a target on my back.” She took his hands firmly into hers. “I don’t care how big it is.”

“Good point,” he muttered before she pulled him into another passionate kiss.