Her Every Wish (Dark Fairytales #2)

Chapter 1

Yalina

“Light of the Sun, the council is waiting for you.”

I turn away from my spiked orchid in annoyance, schooling my face into the serene smile of a solha that I’ve worn all my life. “Thank you, Farah. Please let them know I will be with them shortly.”

It isn’t his fault I would rather tend to my plants than meet with the council. I would rather do almost anything than meet with the council, but there is no point complaining. It is their duty to advise me just as it is my duty to care for the people of Vathira.

Farah doesn’t look at me. He would never dare. Palace servants are carefully trained to avert their eyes from the faces of the royal family, as the ancient custom decrees.

With a sigh, I give the pretty pink petals a final squirt from the clever glass bottle my father had made for me. It may not seem like much as a gift for the only daughter of the solharan, but it is one of my most treasured possessions since it was the last thing he ever gave me before he died.

Setting it down on its shelf, I wipe my hands on the soft cotton cloth hanging from the hook beside it and find my shoes. It wouldn’t do for me to meet with the council barefoot, but the hard glass slippers pinch my toes as I slide my feet inside them.

What would it feel like to be free of this place? Of the endless rituals and the meaningless courtesies I’m faced with every day? Impossible to truly imagine, but that does not mean I do not spend every minute I am alone each day dreaming of it.

A cool breeze skims off the channel where water from the great fountain flows through the palace like blood through its veins, cooling us against the desert heat, nurturing us. I wait for the guard to open the large bronze door to the council chamber.

The hushed voices inside fall quiet as soon as the doors open, and the faces of my five viziers turn toward me.

Kareth Vahn, the tall, slim watermaster who oversees the water supply for Vathira; Irymae Tahlir, the round-bellied goldmaster who runs our treasury; Renith Solen, the kind old spiritmaster who intercedes with the gods and coordinates Vathira’s religious and state ceremonies; Maerin Vos, the stern, swarthy warmaster who has fought at the head of our armies since I was a young girl; and Halithra Harmer, the spymaster whose smiles never seem to reach his eyes.

Kareth Vahn stands and the others follow suit. “Greetings, oh, Light of the Sun. Thank you for blessing us with your presence.”

The others murmur the ritual words and incline their heads.

With a nod to Master Vahn I sit so my advisors can sit also. “What is on the agenda today?”

He summons a servant from the corner of the room who brings over a large leatherbound pile of papers.

He clears his throat. “Oh, Light of the Sun, the messenger we sent to Niruth returned with bad news. It seems our neighbors have no wish to trade with us at this time. Their borders remain closed. They have no water to spare.”

I let out a groan of desperation. “But we have seen rain on the mountains. There must be water somewhere.”

He shrugs. “I am sorry, Your Highness.”

I accept his apology with a wave, turning to Master Vos. “How goes the training of the new recruits?”

Her expression is apologetic as she replies. “I’m afraid it is not good news, oh, Light of the Sun. The new recruits have been equipped with armor and weapons, but we have had to limit their training since we cannot increase their water rations.”

I frown. “Perhaps it is time to turn off the great fountain and ration water in the palace as well.”

My advisors all look at each other. “Oh, I do not think things are so bad, oh, Light of the Sun. Not so bad as that.”

This is a relief. I do not want my plants to die, but when the time comes to make sacrifices for my people, that is what I will do. “Then there is still water in the city wells?”

Kareth clears his throat. “There is… some, yes. And surely the inundation will come soon, and the situation will ease. It is only a matter of time.”

He has been saying this for weeks but it is well past the time of year when the annual floods should fill our rivers and flood our farms. “Very well.” I look to Renith. “Do you at least have good news for me?”

“Yes, oh, Light of the Sun. Preparations for the coronation are going swimmingly; there is only the small matter of—” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, the matter of your solharan.”

I sigh. I knew we would have to discuss this. I have been avoiding the topic every time we meet, but it weighs on me like a huge boulder pressing down on my shoulders. “I just need a little more time,” I say. “Just a little longer.”

Renith shakes his head. “We cannot have the coronation until you are married. That is the law.”

“Well, that’s OK. I will remain solha for now.”

Renith’s frown deepens, and he temples his hands in front of him. “Your Highness, if I may, the people are restless. There is talk in the streets that you are thinking of abandoning us.”

My eyes widen. “I would never!” He has no way of knowing I dream about doing exactly that every single night. I’ve never told another soul.

“Forgive me, Light of the Sun. I know that. But the people are ignorant. You cannot blame them for doubting. They need a solhara. A solhara and solharan.”

Halithra nods. “My spies have heard rumors of the armies of Othirain looking to our borders and wondering if now is the time for them to try their luck against an uncrowned monarch and a weakened nation.”

“We are not weak!” I slap my palm on the table then suddenly still, conscious of the silence which falls over the room. “We are not weak, are we?”

Kareth’s lips purse. “We are not as strong as we were when your father and mother took the throne, oh, Light of the Sun.”

Oh gods. My throat is tight. Have I let my people down? My stubborn refusal to choose a suitor is purely selfish. It is only that I cannot stand the thought of a husband ruling over me, controlling me. And how could any man who thinks to be solharan not be determined to rule?

“I see. And the coronation would help put people’s minds at ease?”

They all nod.

I sigh. “Then I suppose you should send the files to my rooms tonight so I may review my suitors.”

“Actually, Light of the Sun, you may not need to go to the trouble.” Master Vahn gives me an unsettling smile.

“After the last time we spoke, I took the liberty of asking the council to review the options for you. Since you were still processing the death of your father, may his light live forever. If it pleases you, we have narrowed down the pile to one option we feel best meets the needs of Vathira.”

“Oh.” I’m hesitant to reprimand him since it seems they did this out of concern for me.

It is true that when they first brought up the topic of my marriage, I did not react well.

So I can understand why they might have taken this step.

“Who do you… recommend?” I’m almost afraid to know their answer.

Masters Vahn and Harmer share a look. The spymaster adjusts the sleeve of his gown.

“Prince Aurelion of Tarquenor represents the strongest political match, and he has the advantage of being closest to your own age, Highness. Indeed, being our nearest neighbor means he can wait on you at short notice.”

“Oh, I see.” I do not feel ready to meet with the prince, but I suppose I will have to make myself ready. It seems Vathira cannot wait.

“May I send a messenger requesting a royal visit?” Master Harmer looks ready to leap up from the table and go himself.

I sigh. “Very well. But let me have the files anyway. I would like to review all the options myself in case we are not compatible.”

“As you wish, Light of the Sun.” He inclines his head, and I catch the hint of a smile which wasn’t there before.

At least someone is happy about this situation.

Unable to deal with any more, I stand and dismiss the council. I consider returning to my garden, but I don’t like to take my sour moods there. I have a theory that it stunts my plants’ growth.

Instead, I climb to the top of the tower and step into the heat of the desert wind on the balcony to look out over the city.

The sun is setting, and the sky’s last color is fading from the horizon as the stars begin to wink into life.

Far in the distance, I can just make out the city walls and beyond, the haze of the desert.

Are these my last days of freedom before I commit to a marriage and a life with a man I cannot love?

It feels harsh to judge a stranger without ever having met him face to face, but the truth is, I find none of the haughty courtiers and nobles or foreign princes and kings I’ve ever seen appealing.

All of them leave me cold as a night exposed on the dunes.

My skin crawls, and I rub uselessly at my arms, trying to rid myself of the feeling. If only I could escape this. Just for one night. I know it can’t be forever. My people need me to make a match and take the throne.

But what if I could have one night of freedom?

My gaze falls to the vine which clings to the exposed wall of my tower, teasing me with its snaking form which twists all the way to the plant and ground below. Will it hold my weight? I have never tested it. Do I dare?

If I do not risk it tonight, I may be throwing away my last chance.

Turning from the balcony, I hurry to the door of my rooms and call the waiting servant. “Please ask the kitchens to send up no dinner tonight. I am not feeling well. I will dress now for bed and retire early.”

She bows. “Yes, oh, Light of the Sun.”

A short time later, I am dressed in the most practical outfit I could assemble: flowing trousers, flat, unadorned slippers, and a simple tunic.

I sling my leg over the balustrade and stretch until my toes touch the vine.

My heart pounds in my chest as I slip down the tower and through the dark gardens toward the palace gates.