Chapter 2
The carriage hit yet another bump in the road, and my heart lurched. I gripped the seat so tightly, my knuckles were white, my fists shaking. The cushions did nothing to ease the jarring. With closed eyes, I reclined my head and took a deep breath, releasing the seat.
Alivia groaned and braced her hand on the door for reasons entirely different than mine. “You’d think with as traveled as this road is, it’d be smoother.”
“Not everyone is lucky enough to travel by carriage,” I teased halfheartedly, opening my eyes to find her a bit greener than she’d been moments ago.
“That’s true, I suppose,” she said, tugging at her tightly-laced corset. “But still—I think riding on the grass would be smoother than this.”
I’d much prefer grass. Hell, I’d take walking.
I shifted my gaze to the window as the sun sank on the horizon, perfectly framed by twin mountains. Tucked away at the base of those two peaks was a valley, one I had waited a very long year to return to.
It was where we were headed now. Not the valley per se, but the estate near it—one of many our family-owned, close to the Ravaryn border and bought for this exact reason: the annual peace treaty meeting between Ravaryn and Auryna.
“Not much longer,” I said.
“Thank the Goddess. I don’t think I could manage much longer. This ride is agitating my motion sickness to no end.” Alivia cupped her forehead before following my line of sight to the window, and a curious smile curved her lips. “Are you excited?”
“Yes, very,” I replied, but not for the reasons she thought.
This was my first year being allowed in the meeting room where the treaty would be signed once again, and while I was excited to lay eyes on the elusive King of Ravaryn, I was much more excited, albeit anxious, to return to this place for other reasons—all tied to one carefully folded letter, tucked in my corset, burning the skin above my nervous heart.
“He’s quite handsome, you know, the King.” Alivia wiggled her brows as she sat up, leaning forward on her elbows. The carriage hit another hole in the mud-soaked path, and Alivia pressed her lips into a flat line, biting back her nausea with a deep sigh.
“I’ve heard.”
Rumors of the kind King Vaelor circulated to every corner of the realm—the handsome king who refused to take a wife, keeping his circle small and his love life smaller.
“I wonder why he’s not married yet. He doesn’t have the countenance of a rake.” Alivia reclined in her seat, twirling a loose curl around her finger, her gaze following the passing trees through the window. “Do you think he’s impotent?”
My eyes cut to her, a surprised laugh bubbling from my chest. “Alivia!”
“What?” She threw her hands up. “There must be something wrong with him. Why else would a king not marry? He’ll need heirs if nothing else.”
“I guess that’s true.” I tilted my head to the side, lifting my brows in consideration. “Perhaps he prefers the company of men.”
“I…” Alivia’s mouth fell open, like the possibility had never occurred to her, but she snapped it shut again as her hand went to her chin. “But if that were the case, why would he not take a husband? Why refuse to marry entirely?”
“Hmm… Quite the mystery, that one.”
“An overly attractive mystery.” Her mouth ticked up in a grin.
I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Liv, do you like the King of Ravaryn?”
“Oh, no. None of that.” She waved a hand through the air in dismissal. “But would that be so unreasonable? The man could have been carved by the Goddess. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t marry: he was sent to our realm with the task of showing us what we could have but never will. Perhaps he is our punishment…the punishment to our loins.”
“Or perhaps he was sent as a gift—a gift to bless our eyes and feed our midnight activities.”
Alivia’s laughter burst from her, echoing off the walls of our small carriage, and I couldn’t contain mine either. When Alivia snorted, I laughed so hard, no sound would come—a silent laughter that had me clutching my abdomen as my belly burned and tears fell.
“You haven’t even seen him yet.” She wiped beneath her eyes and took a breath, slumping back in her seat as she smoothed her skirts absentmindedly. “You just wait and see how accurate that statement truly is.”
Her hands always fell into some kind of movement when she was thinking, and as they ran over the fabric, I realized she was wearing one of her nicer gowns: blacker than midnight with silver embroidered stars.
My eyes trailed over her, following each constellation until I reached her face. I lifted a brow, and she did the same as we locked eyes. “Liv, are you wearing your nice gown in hopes of catching his attention?”
“I mean, honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t. He could lay his eyes on one of us and fall madly in love.”
I chuckled, glancing down at my attire: a simple, dusty blue dress, but it had its charms. It hugged my form in all the right ways, accentuating my bosom. “I’m not the kingdom’s princess.”
“Well, not technically, but?—”
“But nothing. I don’t have the obligation to outshine everyone around me—which, by the way, you could do with nothing but a potato sack, Alivia. You’re beautiful, regardless of what fabric adorns you.” She shook her head, opening her mouth to argue, even as a deep smile set in. “Besides, I rather like blending into the background. It gives me free rein. No one bothers with a second glance in my direction.”
The humor slid from Alivia’s face a fraction, her eyes going distant as her mind drifted to whatever dark place it frequented when she spoke of such topics. “Privacy is not something I’ll ever be afforded.” Clearing her throat, she brought her attention back to me, sitting straighter as she smoothed her already-smooth dress—sliding her mask of royalty back on. “But that’s a trivial sacrifice I make for my kingdom.”
My heart sank, my brows furrowing, and I reached forward to place my hand over hers. “It’s not trivial. It’s a massive sacrifice—one our people may not understand—but know that you are all the braver for it. Selfless, in a way no one else could ever understand.”
“Thank you, El.” She nodded, but her eyes remained nearly sad as she turned back to the window.
“You’re welcome.” I squeezed her hand and sat back. “Now, back to your mysterious lover?—”
“Not my lover.” Her eyes cut back to me, her mouth falling open. “Although I wouldn’t be opposed, I guess. He would be much better than any other suitor my father’s council has proposed, even if he is a bit closed off. Anything would be better than that damned lord’s son. What was his name?”
“Oh Goddess, the one with a mop of red hair and an ego the size of the moon?” I cringed and waved my hand. “No, your father would never let you marry him, much less force. He’s insufferable; even Godrick’s eye twitches with restraint in his presence.”
“Well, let’s hope. Could you imagine? Living with someone who can only hold a conversation if it involves his steeds, his ‘unmatched’ archery skill, or Goddess forbid, he makes me sit through another conversation about his damned books. He thinks he’s so superior because he reads nothing but the ‘classics’ in the old language.”
“Why is it that the most average men have the most outrageous egos?”
As much as my heart ached for her—and it did because Alivia was a lion trapped in a bird’s cage—I couldn’t deny the subtle relief that flowed through me knowing the council would never argue for control of my marriage. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to marry, not for a long while yet at least, and I’d realized the silver lining of my situation years ago. As an orphan unofficially adopted by Godrick and Emma Stirling, my presence held no true weight, despite that they were the king and queen of Auryna. My hand in marriage would gain no favors.
I wasn’t royal blood, so in the eyes of the world—if the world had known of my existence—I held no true value, and I let those who did know of me believe so. They could view me as Alivia’s maid or lady in waiting or even a simple companion, because it didn’t truly matter which role they placed me in within their minds; they all gave me the ability to hover in the background, nothing more than a fly on the wall, allowing me to lead the life I wanted. I could slip through the shadows and passageways with ease, and Godrick and Emma allowed it. While Emma worried, I thought Godrick secretly encouraged it as it gave me some semblance of freedom, and he loved me in that way, loved Alivia and me both in that way. He wanted us to taste and understand freedom in any way we could.
I knew Godrick would never force Alivia’s hand—not to this imbecile, not to anyone. He was her father before her king, and he wouldn’t sacrifice her for something as simple as alliances or favor.
“But Lyren…” I started, the smile creeping back into my face.
“What of him?” Alivia asked nonchalantly, but her growing blush gave her away.
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she averted her gaze. “Spare me. You, the girl who has never liked riding, have suddenly started going on daily rides, and when did that start? Oh, that’s right—when he was hired as the stable boy.”
“He’s a stable boy, Elora. Nothing could ever come of it, regardless of our feelings.”
I leaned forward and cocked a brow. “Maybe not, but he could be…fun, for now, if you allowed it.”
She tipped her head to the side, returning her gaze to the sinking sun, but her stifled smile was still visible in her profile. “Perhaps.”
“Kidding aside, if this mystery king is as handsome as you say, he wouldn’t be a completely nonviable option, right? No matter what dress you wear, you’ll undoubtedly bring the poor man to his knees.”
She rolled her eyes, a genuine laugh escaping her.
“And if he still doesn’t, then I fear he may be hopeless—utterly and regrettably hopeless.”
“You may be right, but my dress for tomorrow is even better: red silk with a plunging neckline.” She wiggled her brows. “Truly, one of my favorite gowns I’ve ever seen. Anyone who wore it would stand out, especially among the elders we’ll be surrounded by at the meeting.”
I knew the exact gown, as I’d been there the day she bought it. “Anyone else would be lost in it.”
It took a special kind of person, a special kind of confidence, to wear a gown like that, but Alivia had been raised as royalty, and she had the self-assurance that only a princess could. Beyond that, every bit of her looked as royal as she was. With long, blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, soft skin untouched by labor, and voluptuous curves formed by the rich food at court, she gave the dress life.
“Not just anyone could wear that,” I added.
“Well, then perhaps King Vaelor will be so enamored that he’ll end his refusal to marry right then and there, demand my hand, and end the council’s fervent pursuit of my marriage.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said, sinking back in my seat.
“But while King Vaelor looks to be carved by the Goddess, he’s as stoic as a statue, too. He may as well have been carved from stone. Every time I’ve seen him, his conversations were dry and solely centered around his kingdom. Nothing more. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t married—he only has enough love for his throne and has none left to give to another.”
“Or maybe no one has accepted his proposal.” I covered my mouth, stifling a giggle.
“Maybe every potential spouse has died of boredom or fled for their lives.”
I scrunched my eyes when I burst into laughter, muffling the sound with my hand. “We’re horrible.”
“The meanest,” she managed between gasps, clutching her side.
Taking a few breaths, I wiped my eyes and pulled my legs up to cross in my lap—a particularly stubborn habit to break. “I suppose that does make him an admirable king, but how will his line of succession work without an heir?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe the customs are different in Ravaryn, though. Who knows?”
I shrugged, turning back to the window as we neared the estate, merely a small, black silhouette against the burning orange sunset from this distance. Despite so much beauty, however, my gaze honed in on the small valley behind it—the one that held the orchard.