Chapter 2
Two
The asymmetrical, slate stone floors bit into Jasyn’s feet as he jogged down the long hall.
His hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
His morning in the sun left him no time to get properly dressed, and he knew it was going to displease his parents.
After all, he was minutes away from meeting his future wife.
“Sometimes, I dread the day I’ll have to call you king,” Mych’s teasing voice echoed from his station at the door.
Jasyn slowed, his breathing evening out with each step.
“Are they in there?”
Mych smiled, his crooked teeth showing. It made the brass armor and sword at his hip less intimidating, though Mych had never been able to embody what was expected from a guard.
He was too soft-hearted and flirtatious for that.
It was the reason he was the only person Jasyn talked to outside the royal family.
Well…only his parents now. Both his older brother and sister were dead—Jaymes and Dahlia were only memories, ones he held tightly.
“Everyone is waiting for you,” Mych said as he stepped up to Jasyn, fixing the buttons Jasyn hadn’t lined up properly in his rush. Jasyn’s face heated at his disheveled appearance.
Once Mych made Jasyn look somewhat presentable, Jasyn rolled his sore shoulders back and opened the door before he had anyone waiting any longer. It was embarrassing enough that he was late.
Mych patted him on the shoulder, a gesture of comfort as all eyes turned toward Jasyn.
Sunlight gilded the room, blinding until Jasyn blinked. Each corner was covered in greenery; in order to reach the dais where his parents sat on their thrones, he had to walk on stepping stones through a rectangular pond, where the water sprouted lily pads floating on top.
His parents gave him a reproachful glare as he reached them.
They were both dressed in their best finery.
His mother’s long yellow dress accentuated her dark skin, and gold jewelry oozed off her neck, ears, and wrists.
His father, seated on his throne instead of in his wheelchair, wore freshly pressed slacks and a purple shirt he favored for important occasions.
Of all the royal children, Jasyn and his father looked the most similar, from their golden brown skin to their green eyes.
Both his parents had crowns planted on their heads.
“Were shoes too difficult to find?” were his mother’s first words to him.
Jasyn’s face flamed even hotter. He peered down at his bare feet, and his father chuckled.
“Let’s hope your betrothed doesn’t mind someone who spends more time with plants than people,” his father joked.
Jasyn grunted, but he climbed up the few steps and bent to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“If she even likes me enough to stay,” Jasyn cautioned.
“Of course she will, Jasyn. But you must get in your place so she can actually meet you,” his mother said.
“Right,” he said under his breath as he took the seat on his father’s left side. It still felt strange to occupy this spot when it should have been Jaymes or Dahlia here. They were meant to rule, but they had sacrificed themselves for their dynasty and failed. Would Jasyn be next?
Jasyn peeked behind him to where his father’s wheelchair was situated.
A guard must have carried his father onto the throne.
No matter how much Jasyn and his mother urged the king to replace the throne so he could just sit in his wheelchair.
After all, they had built a ramp so he could wheel up easily, yet his father wouldn’t listen.
King Aleks had countered that he only had a short time left until Jasyn took his spot.
Jasyn appreciated the faith, but he didn’t think it was earned.
A wind chime jingled from outside, and before Jasyn had another moment to prepare, the door opened.
“Lady Esi,” Mych announced, sending Jasyn a wink before he backed up a step.
Jasyn narrowed his eyes, but they quickly widened again as Lady Esi walked through the glass doors.
Her eyes roamed the room, her neck craning upwards, taking in the scenery.
It was called a glass castle for a reason.
All the external walls were panes of glass, supported by the same ivory stone of the floors.
Yet, it was like the windows didn’t exist because the foliage outside bled inside.
One could even still hear the elements like birds chirping and the swaying of leaves as the wind gusted.
“Lady Esi,” his father said, and she seemed to come out of a trance as she finally settled her gaze on the dais, directly on him. He could have sworn he saw flames in those amber eyes. “And Mr. Bron,” his father greeted with a dip of his head.
He had been so distracted by the glowing beauty of Lady Esi, the rich burgundy color of her chiffon dress and the way it accentuated her dark hair, he didn’t notice her guard behind her.
Unlike her, he appeared unimpressed with his surroundings.
Like any competent guard, his attention was solely on the woman he was sworn to protect.
Esi’s steps were awkward across the pond, but she held her head high, and Jasyn had to admire that bravery.
“King Aleks and Queen Kait, pleasure to meet you,” she curtsied. Her voice was light with a slight rasp, like she was attempting to sound approachable, and it only enticed him further. He was on the edge of his seat as she nodded at him. “Prince Jasyn.”
His mother stood and walked down the few steps to be level with Esi. Jasyn didn’t fail to notice Bron’s hand moving toward the hilt of his sword, how the guards around the perimeter mirrored Bron’s movement. Clearly, Bron wasn’t enthused about this betrothal.
“Thank you for traveling to meet my son.” Queen Kait softly smiled, her dark, coiled curls framing her face.
“It is my honor.” Esi bowed her head, her long hair slipping over her shoulders.
His mother turned to Jasyn, and she jerked her chin, gesturing for him to move. “I’m sure you have been anxiously waiting to meet my son.”
Jasyn stumbled off the dais, and he heard his father snort under his breath.
“It is a pleasure.” Jasyn extended his hand to Esi.
She stood there blinking, hesitating, making him look like a fool.
Her guard cleared his throat, and when she finally seemed to realize her gaffe, she gave Jasyn her hand.
He took it, pressing a soft kiss to the back.
Sparks danced wherever their skin touched.
He couldn’t help but linger, taking in her clove and orange scent. It was intoxicating.
A small gasp came from her lips, and he knew she felt it too. He didn’t expect there to be such an immediate connection, but he felt something shift in him already. It was a scary revelation that someone had such power over his desire so quickly.
“I can tell this is a match straight from The Weather Gods,” his mother said jovially, clapping her hands together in delight as she turned toward his father.
“I hope you aren’t disappointed.”
Jasyn didn’t register Esi’s words at first, but then he was shaking his head, almost disturbed by the idea of such a negative thought. “Never. I am delighted to know once I complete the Undertaking, I will have you by my side.”
“You don’t even know me.” She shrugged.
“We’ll make sure to fix that,” Jasyn responded. It would be a test almost as difficult as the Undertaking itself. Would he be able to open up to someone? It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to.
“I look forward to it.” Esi smiled, her countenance brighter than the sun itself.
As soon as Iskra was in the privacy of her designated room, she slumped her shoulders and kicked off the heels Esi had given her.
That introduction had not been what she had expected.
Though they had only exchanged a few words, the king and queen were kind.
Their eyes were full of hope. And Jasyn…
She was drawn to him. He looked ruffled and unkempt with no shoes on his feet, yet he still sat regal on his throne.
“You did well for a window washer.”
Iskra stiffened at Bron’s voice. He and Esi had spent yesterday teaching her everything they could before today’s appearance, including how to mimic Esi’s friendly voice, though Iskra didn’t think she succeeded.
It wasn’t enough time to truly learn how to exude a noble-born lady, which was why walking in those heels had been treacherous, but it provided her with enough to get through her entrance.
Now, Bron was going to use whatever private moment they had to continue those lessons.
Esi was already off gallivanting with her secret lover for the day, but she promised to return tonight.
“Luckily, it was short,” Iskra replied.
Bron now stood next to two glass doors to a balcony.
“I asked for a room on the first floor to allow you and Esi to switch easily, but they didn’t seem to take my request into consideration.
” One of the maids had informed them this was the best room in the castle, outside of those already occupied by the royal family—though once the marriage was consummated, Esi would be moved in Jasyn’s room.
Iskra joined Bron but opened the doors and headed outside.
The balcony was covered in vines, and it overlooked a garden.
Or gardens, she should say. The whole castle grounds were covered in bushes, flowers, and trees.
She breathed in deeply, the smells stronger because of her shifting abilities, her senses overwhelmed by the scent.
Not in a bad way, but it reminded her of how much existed outside the walls of Kryth’s shop and how little she had experienced.
“I don’t mind the height,” Iskra said.
“You say that now, but when it comes time for you and Esi to climb up and down, it’s going to create a challenge.”
“We can use the curtains to create a rope.”
“I don’t think the royals would appreciate us using their stuff like that.”
“You don’t seem to like Esi’s plan.”
Bron crossed his arms, showing off his muscles.
He only wore a vest, the chest plate steel.
“I’m not able to keep my eyes on Esi. If she gets hurt, it will be my fault.
Plus, I don’t trust that shop owner of yours.
” Bron shivered. “Apothecaries like to promise one thing but deliver on another. I don’t trust him—and, by extension, you. ”
Iskra took him in. Bron wasn’t wrong for distrusting Kryth. Iskra didn’t trust him either, and in every spare moment, she wondered why exactly Kryth had allowed her to participate in this plan.
Then, Iskra wondered about Bron’s relationship with Esi and how fiercely he protected her. It couldn’t just be loyalty and fear making him clutch his duties tightly. Was it love, obsession, or something entirely self-motivated? Iskra didn’t have enough time to figure it out quite yet.
“Good thing Esi will be back for dinner.” Even though the sun set late in the Sun Court, Esi promised to return earlier to at least acquaint herself with the man she was destined to marry.
He ignored Iskra. “I’m going to my room. It’s across the hall. If she doesn’t show up or if you need anything, knock three times. I’ll know it's you.”
Bron left her, and all Iskra could do was anchor her head back and allow the sun to shine on her skin. She savored its warmth, because in a few short weeks, when Jasyn and Esi married, Iskra would just be ash in the wind.