24. Soren
Chapter twenty-four
Soren
The princess has infiltrated my palace. I cannot go anywhere during daylight hours without catching a whisper of her, a glimpse of her. Ever since our understanding in the gardens, I’ve avoided her at all costs. Still, she’s there. Always there. She’s at my dinner table, walking my beach, her wicked handmaid stalking after her with that damned parasol. She’s flirting with the guards outside my door, begging for admittance.
What more does she want from me? Affection? I’ll marry this female, irritating and power-hungry as she is, because it’s in the best interest of my kingdom. The least she can do is leave me to mourn the last few weeks of my freedom in peace.
As the moon rises, I straighten at my desk, stack the ledgers neatly, and roll the soreness from my shoulders. All the wedding affairs are paid for, the schedule decided, and the invitations sent. In two weeks’ time, Audrina will bloom in her fullness, and the door to my future will close to resounding applause.
I stretch my arms over my head, and my spine cracks in a symphony of relief. As has become my habit, I reach for my ribs next, swiping my thumb over the spot where the itchy scale used to be. In the past few days, the sting has finally subsided, but I still trace the scale, reveling in the loss of its familiar ache.
But the stretch is not enough; my body craves movement. I should go for a walk—the princess won’t be out this late in the evening, and I could use the exercise. I’ve been skipping my sparring sessions with Nara, simply to avoid the possibility of running into Aris on the way to the ring.
My stomach growls, reminding me of my untouched dinner. Perhaps I’ll swing by the kitchen for a late-night snack. I nod at the guard, and he returns the gesture.
No sign of the princess.
In the lower hallway, two figures stand around the bend, effectively blocking my only pathway to the kitchen wing beyond. I press myself against the wall to hear the conversation.
“She’s like a silver cloud, lovely and delicate. Just what this kingdom needs,” Lady Myrrh’s bubbling soprano drifts to me.
Lord Varik’s voice comes in response, thick with irony. “I see you have yet to uncover the princess’s fangs?”
Even if the princess isn’t here in body, she’s here in name. I cannot seem to escape her.
“Bah,” Lady Myrrh huffs. “These things aren’t all about appearances, you know.”
“No, of course not, my lady,” the treasurer chides. “Not when she appears like… What was it you said? A silver cloud? How quaint.”
The lady makes a squeal of protest, and I peer around the edge of the wall. The two council members stand in the middle of the hallway, facing each other with crossed arms. Her back to me, Lady Myrrh rattling the beads of her chest piece with nervous hands while the lord towers over her, his face plastered with his signature eelish sneer.
There’s space behind Lady Myrrh, just enough for me to sneak past. If luck serves me well, they will continue their argument without notice, and I can be on my way. Lord Varik may spot me, but he’ll let me go without incident. It’s the lady I must be careful of.
Hunger gnaws at my stomach, sharp and demanding. With a sigh, I step around the corner.
Before I can take three steps, Lady Myrrh turns to greet me with an emphatic curtsy. “Oh, Your Highness!” Her hair bobs, a stray curl falling into her eyes. She brushes it away, quickly tucking it behind her pointed ear.
I nod to her politely and greet her by name, continuing my brisk pace. But as I pass, she raises her voice to a level not easy to ignore.
“I was just saying to Lord Varik how exquisite the princess looked in her day gown on the beach this afternoon. What a treasure you’ve found! Thank the gods, I don’t think we’ll need to use that pendant, after all. I don’t know what Lord Almar was thinking. Wretched old thing.”
“Princess Aris is indeed lovely. I am glad you are pleased, my lady.” I step away, signaling my departure with another curt nod. She catches my arm.
“How go the wedding plans?” she pries. “I’ve been thinking, it’d be lovely to have flowers for the ball.” A waft of her scent floods my nose—thick and floral, like roses too long in the sun.
Lord Varik chuckles darkly. “The prince is busy, my lady. Do not worry him with such things.”
I stare at her hand on my wrist, curling around my bare skin. Her palm is sweaty and warm. “Silver, do you think? And white? To match the princess’s aura.”
“The traditional color is pink,” I say on instinct. A pity, that. As abundant as it is in my kingdom’s decor, I’ve never cared much for the color. Except for the particular shade of pink that stained the handmaid’s cheeks the day I met her—when I thought she was mine.
An odd sensation flutters in my stomach when I recall those sun-stained cheeks. I haven’t seen Enna at a close distance since the garden incident, and I—
I shake my head to clear the thought. It can’t be that I miss her. Can it? Twisting my wrist, I gently dislodge from Lady Myrrh’s grip.
The lady blinks, as if broken from a trance, and steps back. “White and pink, then.”
“Sounds perfect. Lady Myrrh, if you could arrange with the florists to bring these ideas to life, I cannot wait to see what you come up with.” Once more, I step toward my exit.
The councilwoman splutters. “Pardon, Your Highness. Me?”
“Yes. You are the minister of entertainment, no? And you have an eye for beauty. I’d love to see how your vision transforms the throne room for the upcoming ball.”
Her brows furrow as if suddenly calculating difficult math. “It would be an honor,” she says finally.
“Excellent.” Another step toward the kitchen.
Lord Varik snorts. “Assigning tasks to the council directly, are we? Your mother would never—”
I’m two paces past the council member, yet I whirl to face him. “My wishes have the weight of an order from the crown, do they not?”
He meets my gaze with lifted chin, his top lip twitching with a repressed snarl. Anger burns in his small, yellow eyes, but I refuse to look away. I stare deep into the depths of his gaze until I’m cutting through their golden tides with efficient control.
With a grunt, Lord Varik flicks his eyes away in reluctant submission. “Of course, Your Highness. I simply meant that we are quite busy. I’m sure Lady Myrrh will need to arrange her schedule to accommodate your request.”
“Which is not a problem, at all, Your Highness.” She flutters her hand, as if that demonstrates her flexibility.
“Well, you both seem to have plenty of time to gossip in the hallway after sundown. Tell me, Lord Varik, what have you been working on?”
He narrows his eyes. “A personal project to ensure the continued success of this kingdom.”
“Is that so?”
The treasurer doesn’t respond, only pins me with another glare. I play his game for a few moments longer before pushing past him with a curt “goodnight” to Lady Myrrh.
As I round the next bend, at the edge of my hearing, I catch his grumbling tone, muttering under his breath.
“Oh, lighten up, Lord Varik.” Lady Myrrh giggles. “Look at our prince. He’s simply mad for her. I could see it on his face, plain as sand, when I suggested flowers to match her aura. The prince was blushing!”
I touch my cheek, feeling the residual heat. I’m blushing?
“Don’t get too invested in those flowers, my lady. He will walk out on this one, first chance he gets. Mark my word.”
“Hush now. That is a male in love, if ever I saw one. And I am an excellent judge of these things.”
I cannot keep hiding in my room. I have a kingdom to run, a council to manage. This wedding business? I’ve worked too hard to secure the future of my kingdom to let it be run by eels like Varik.