Chapter 2
AMARYLLIS
The following morning, we’re lined up side by side like crystal chess pieces in the grand hall.
Above us, sculpted arches support the wide painted ceiling.
In the centre, Father’s diamond chandelier looms over us, shining just like the strange moon did last night.
But judging by my sisters’ excited whispers, I’m the only one here who’s spared a thought for last night’s bizarre events.
Who would worry about an assassination when there’s a handsome prince on his way?
Only me, apparently.
As usual, we’ve been lined up by age, with myself at one end and Liliana at the other.
Each of us has been dressed in our finest sparkling gowns, with our hair styled in impressive twists.
Even the youngest girls are well dressed for the occasion, wearing stunning new dresses and tiaras.
Clearly, Father wishes for us to make a good impression – or maybe he just wants to show us off.
“I hear someone coming,” Camellia, the third eldest, squeals from my right. Her announcement sends murmurs bubbling down the line as two sets of footsteps rapidly approach from beyond the double doors.
“Quiet, girls,” I shush, flapping my hands to grab their attention. “And remember to curtsy when he enters.”
But I may as well have been speaking another language. The moment the doors open, I hear a collective gasp whoosh down the line, and not a single one of us curtsies.
“His Royal Majesty the King and His Royal Highness, Prince Hugo,” a guard announces, as we all just stare with wide eyes at the odd man in front of us.
I knew I was expecting bad. But this… This is beyond awful.
The visiting prince is small, with hardly any hair and a podgy nose that sticks out almost as much as his belly. Upon noticing us, he smiles in a way that reveals several missing teeth and adjusts his cuffs, although it does little to improve his hideous appearance.
He’s also old. Very old. At least twice my age, if not closer to seventy. And certainly far older than Father, who looks almost the complete opposite as he stands beside him.
Father looks regal in his typical red and gold overcoat, with a glittering golden crown. And when I look at them both together, one is clearly a king and the other is…
Well…
“Prince Hugo,” Father beams, gesturing towards us as if there isn’t a hideous creature beside him. “Please allow me to introduce my lovely daughters.”
“How delightful,” Hugo exclaims, rubbing his hands together.
Of course, his voice is equally foul – grating and a little high-pitched, as if someone is scratching their nails down the side of a cauldron.
“I’ve always wondered about the twelve little darlings you keep hidden away here. But now I see why you’ve kept them so locked up. And they’re all so different too.” Hugo’s eyes gleam. “Like different flavours in a chocolate box.”
With a smile, Father leads him towards us.
“Yes, well, each girl was birthed by a different mother,” he explains.
“My desire for a son led me all over the realm. And while it was enjoyable to sample the women of every nation, you can see my mission was unsuccessful.” He laughs as Hugo chuckles along with him.
Father rarely talks about our mothers. It’s strange to hear him bring them up at all.
Sometimes I wonder about my mother – if I look like her, or if she’d even recognise me if we passed each other at a ball. Then again, Father always says, if our mothers loved us, they’d come and visit. But they never do…
I’m just lucky to have my sisters.
And Father too, of course.
Hugo’s scratchy voice tears me from my thoughts. “Such delightful, exotic creatures,” he coos. “How I shall enjoy tasting each one.”
Beside me, Blossom stifles a gag. I reach around to subtly rub her back.
Meeting princes might be sickening, but they’re always harmless.
Father will let this one pick a few of his favourites to promenade around the grounds, where they’ll be forced to listen to his gloating.
But then he’ll be sent away, just like the rest of them – although perhaps with a much more bruised ego after being rejected by not one but twelve princesses.
Hugo is harmless. Disgusting, but harmless.
“I am so looking forward to hearing what you think of them,” Father replies as he guides Hugo to the start of the line, stopping inches from my feet.
“It has been decades since we’ve had a wedding in the palace.
I cannot wait to hear which of my daughters will be the lucky maiden to accept your hand. ”
My brow shoots up. Surely Father is joking. He must be going blind if he thinks any of us will be interested in anything other than waving goodbye to this prince as he leaves on his horse.
“Of course.” Hugo grins. I taste bile in my throat as he leans closer, his gaze dropping straight to my bust. “I am very particular, though. I like my brides to be a certain way…” With a huff, his face scrunches up. “No, no. This one won’t do at all. Too old.”
“Too old?” I choke. For Star’s sake, I’m twenty-five!
“No matter, you still have eleven more to choose from.” Father ignores me while continuing to guide Hugo down the line. “I’m sure one will meet your tastes enough for us to satisfy our bargain.”
“Bargain?” I echo, before realising I’ve just said that out loud.
“Quiet, Amaryllis.” Father shoots me a warning look.
My stomach dips. “Forgive me,” I mutter, bowing my head. I can almost feel the wide-eyed stares of my sisters on my skin.
“Please ignore my eldest. I’m afraid she can be quite protective,” Father says.
Hugo chuckles. “Not to worry. All is forgiven.”
“May I introduce Blossom and Camellia?” Father gestures towards the second and third eldest. “Either would make an ideal bride, wouldn’t you agree?”
Beside me, Blossom, in her rose-pink gown, fixes her gaze dead ahead, while Camellia stares at the floor, her cheeks paling to a sickly green.
Hugo scowls, clearly displeased. “Once again, too old.”
I hear both girls let out a thankful sigh as he moves along.
Unfortunately, I don’t share their relief. Unable to contain myself, I march out of the line. “Father, what is the meaning of this?”
Both Father and the prince whip around to face me.
“What is this talk of brides and marriage?” I demand. “And who is this man? Clearly none of us would ever agree to marry him. Why are you even entertaining this fool?”
I take a breath. All my sisters watch me with gaping jaws, but Father… Father glares in a way that could melt the sun.
Instead of addressing me, he turns to the entire line.
“Perhaps I did not make myself clear when I announced Prince Hugo was on his way,” Father speaks sharply.
“The prince and I have come to an arrangement where I am to allow him to choose one of you to be his new bride. You will have no choice in the matter, and whoever Prince Hugo picks shall be married to him by the end of the season. I would encourage you all to be the gracious and open-minded princesses I have raised you to be.”
He meets my eyes, his gaze fierce enough to make my stomach drop. “Do not disappoint me again.”
My breath stills. This can’t be happening. Beside me, a few of my sisters swipe away tears.
For a brief moment, I consider reaching for Blossom’s hand and herding the rest of the girls out of here, but I cast the thought aside – I wouldn’t want any of them to be punished.
Clearly unbothered, Hugo slaps a hand down onto Father’s shoulder. “You mustn’t be so harsh on them, Sol,” he chuckles. “Besides, I do tend to prefer the outspoken ones. It’s always more fun when they put up a good fight. Though, nothing a good beating can’t fix when it gets too much, eh?”
“Father—” I cry out, but Blossom yanks me back in line before I can speak another word.
“Just be quiet,” she hisses, pulling me close. “There’s no point in arguing now. Let me speak with him this afternoon. You know how much he likes me. I can get through to him. I can convince him to get Hugo out of here.”
I nod, meeting her glossy eyes. As much as I hate it, she’s probably right. We have to be sensible about this. For now, I’ll bite my tongue and later… Later, Blossom will fix this.
Swallowing, I return to my place and keep my gaze fixed forward while Father laughs along with Hugo further down the line.
“Ah, this one…” Hugo purrs, “this one is perfect. What is your name, dear?”
My knees almost buckle when I hear a quiet voice reply.
“Liliana,” our youngest sister says. Whipping around, I catch the foul prince looming over her as she shudders. He watches her hungrily, like she’s a freshly cooked steak and he hasn’t eaten in months. It takes everything within me not to charge down the line and throw myself between them.
Not her. My breath quickens. Father will put a stop to this – he loves Liliana. He loves us all.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Blossom grips my hand so tightly it stings.
“I’m afraid Liliana is a little young to be married. At fourteen, she is still yet to complete her studies,” Father says sternly. He reaches for Prince Hugo and ushers him back up the line – most importantly, away from the younger girls.
Air whooshes out of my throat. I never should’ve doubted him. Father loves us all. Of course he does.
“Oh, forgive me,” Hugo sneers. “I did not realise how young the little angel was.” He holds up his hands innocently, but then I notice something strange.
A flash of red glows in his eyes. It was brief, flashing only for a second, but I definitely saw it – like someone whipping a red ribbon over his face.
My head tilts. I glance at the other girls, but no one else seems to have noticed it.
“Show me Heather again,” Hugo demands, dismissing Father when he attempts to lead him back towards Blossom and Camellia.
My eyes squeeze shut, then I look again at the prince. But now there’s definitely no red in his eyes – only a dull, yellowy-brown as he leers over Heather, Father’s eighth daughter.
I must be tired. Or stressed. Or both. Probably both.