Chapter Eleven
VIOLET
The palace is sectioned off into five areas.
It’s far from the closed-off, dreary castle with high, looming towers of my imagination.
The Northern, Southern, Eastern, Western, and Central Courts are separated by walls the height of an average fae man.
From what I’ve seen, they have similar features.
Wide, windowed corridors connect buildings throughout each court. Outdoor paths meander between buildings, through gardens, and along a wending stream that passes through each court.
After a while, I end up in the Central Court. Those who pass either bow or nod in acknowledgment as they hurry along their way.
The massive Temple Tower, situated in the palace's very center, is the only structure that rises several stories above ground level.
Plants, manicured to perfection, grow along the outdoor paths. A stream flows through the grounds and under walkways. It connects the courts by passing below the walls that would otherwise keep them entirely separate.
Since arriving, I have caught glimpses of the extensive outdoor gardens, but only now, as I wander the wide, windowed corridors, do I notice the entrances to them in the spaces between buildings.
They are covered in glass domes that become invisible as night falls.
Lanterns have been strung up, bordering the footpaths and low stone bridges that hover inches over the water’s surface.
I catch glimpses of others strolling in groups of two to five, chatting and laughing.
The clothing varies from a mix of servant uniforms to expensive materials.
It seems all who live within the palace are welcome in these areas, though the hierarchy is respected, and lower-ranking individuals move aside to let those of higher rank pass.
Lantern light glittering off the water and the countless stars winking overhead, lend the palace a sense of magic.
It would be easy to spend hours walking through a single court to take everything in, but I decide to leave that for another time and stick with learning the basics of navigating the palace grounds.
I stop at a veranda and look out onto the sloping ground that plunges down several yards to a wide section of the stream at the bottom. My eyes close, and I focus on the musical trickle of water.
“You must be His Highness’s new bride,” a low voice interrupts.
I whirl, pressing my back against the railing. My hand flies to my chest to calm my racing heart.
“Demons and saints, y-you startled me,” I say breathlessly.
Long, pointed ears and an ethereal presence mark him as distinctly not human.
He appears to be only a few years older than Joon.
His eyes are a smoky color, more gray than blue.
And unlike most of the other nobles within the palace, his hair is short.
The simple crown atop his head renders me speechless for several seconds.
“Good evening, Your Majesty,” I say, finally remembering myself long enough to stop gaping at the man who sneaked up on me.
As I start to bow, his hands grip my shoulders, stilling me.
“There is no need for that. It is only the two of us. I wanted to meet the prince’s new wife and apologize for being unable to make it to your bonding ceremony.” The king smiles warmly and gestures down the corridor. “Would you do me the honor of walking with me for a bit?”
The Crown Prince’s uncle has sat upon the throne as interim king since the death of the previous king and queen. If that weren’t common knowledge, I might never have guessed they were related because the two men look nothing alike.
I glance around, realizing there isn’t another soul in the vicinity. Not even a single guard for the king’s protection. Though I suppose having magic is a defense all its own.
While unprepared to meet someone so important like this, I don’t see a reason to refuse. “It would be my honor.”
He leads the way, and I follow a few steps behind until he gestures for me to walk at his side.
We slow as we approach an inner garden with two guards stationed outside. I peer through the open doors to the glass dome surrounding it. The countless squares are etched with vines and held together by silver framework polished to a mirrored finish.
“This is the Garden of Stars, the royal family’s private garden,” the king explains as we enter. Then he takes one of my hands between both of his, giving it a fatherly pat. “I will make sure the guards know you are welcome here whenever you wish.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I say with a slight bow of my head.
The garden path wends between dense vegetation and tall bushes with alcoves branching off to the sides at random intervals. One is a grassy area that would be perfect for an intimate picnic. Another has a flawless, white marble statue resembling the Winter Dragon. Two more have benches.
We pause in the center of a curved bridge over a narrow stretch of stream, no wider than the height of an average man. The king rests his hands on the railing and peers into the water. For a long moment, we stand side by side in companionable silence.
He is doing what he can to put me at ease with his casual manner—and with almost anyone else, it would work.
However, he is still a king. I cannot imagine anyone feeling completely at ease in his presence unless they are his equal.
“Do you like it here at the palace?”
I know my answer should be positive, but to what extent?
When I hesitate, he chuckles, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I suppose you haven’t had time to figure that out yet.”
His smile is broad and welcoming in a way that’s nearly tangible.
All my muscles relax as tension drains. Despite my earlier thought, I find myself beginning to feel at ease.
“Nothing is how I expected it to be,” I admit.
“And… the prince is treating you well?” The king’s tone almost sounds worried.
“Yes. He has been a perfect gentleman.” It’s a bit of a stretch, but for the most part, it’s true enough. Besides, only someone with a death wish would dare speak ill of the royal family.
The king sends me a sidelong glance. “I am glad to hear it,” he says slowly.
Silence falls between us as we watch a shoal of shimmering fish with silver scales swim in lazy patterns beneath the gentle ripples of the water.
He turns to me. The warm expression he wore moments ago is gone now, replaced with a slight frown. “You need not lie or cover for his behavior. It is well known that he is cruel to his wives.”
I take a step back, waving my hands. “He has not acted in an objectionable way. I swear it,” I say quickly.
Then, not wanting to find out what would happen if I openly disagreed with someone so powerful, I add, “Perhaps it is because I’ve been here less than a day and spent so little time with him? ”
The king hums and nods, seeming to accept that.
Long before the mortal and fae worlds collided, fairytales spoke of the inability of the fae to lie and their magic that binds them and others to their promises and bargains. In truth, they can lie as readily as any human, but thankfully, we managed to get the second part right.
“I hope you will not hold it against him when that side emerges.” He shakes his head and heaves a weary sigh. “It is not his fault. His heart holds a lot of pain ever since the… brutal murder of the last king and queen.”
My hand flies to my mouth, smothering a gasp. I’m stunned by his candor. “I had no idea.”
Everyone in the kingdom knows of their passing. But all the rumors spoke of a rare illness contracted during their travels.
He nods, his shining pale blue eyes watching me expectantly.
I am curious about learning the details, but I dare not pry. If they wanted the world to know what really happened, we already would.
When I don’t inquire, the king tilts his chin up and peers down at me. “There is something different about you from his other brides.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I say slowly.
The king couldn’t possibly know the truth—that Joon and I made a bargain… and that I know more than I’m letting on.
My throat feels tight. A warning from the magic of our agreement, ensuring my silence. Surely, Joon would have warned me if anyone could sense it.
The king waves a hand dismissively. “Perhaps things will be different this time. I’ve long hoped for a bride strong enough to guide him toward his true path.”
I shift, unsure of what he’s alluding to or what he expects from me.
“I was only supposed to be on the throne until his nineteenth year when he was of age, but he has shown no interest in fulfilling his role even after all he did to gain it.”
If convincing him to take his place as the rightful king is part of my duties as his wife, this is the first I’m hearing of it.
“Please, do not feel compelled to take on such a daunting task.” Emotion pulls at his features, something akin to… regret? “You are aware of the dangers of your position. It is more important to keep yourself safe from harm. The prince is not all he appears to be.”
I suppose that is as kind a way as any to say someone is dangerous. If not for the bargain, I would be afraid.
“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate your concern.”
The king’s smile is sad but kind as he rests a hand on my shoulder. “I will leave you to return to what you were doing before my interruption. Perhaps we will have another chance to walk together soon.”
“I would like that.”
“When you leave, take a left and continue straight, and you will find your way back to where we met.”
As he walks away, I’m struck with a sense of strangeness. My head feels fuzzy, as if I’d been drinking or about to come down with a head cold. It must be from exhaustion and the stress of the situation. I’ve barely slept since it all began.
I contemplate my first encounter with the king, going over our conversation as I lazily make my way back the way we came.
There was a warning in the king’s words, and I doubt they were given lightly or without reason.
I’ve already seen different sides of Prince Joon. Yet, it is hard to imagine the prince as the king implied.
Which version of you is real, Joon? The one you show me, or the one everyone else knows and fears?
“There you are!” Iseul calls out, waving as she hurries over to me. Her cheeks are flushed bright pink against her pale face as she struggles to catch her breath. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, My Lady. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry, I wanted to explore a bit… is that not allowed?”
She frowns. “You have been gone for two hours.”
The palace must be larger than I realized. How could so much time have passed?
“Anyway, now that I have found you, I will show you to your rooms.” Iseul gestures toward the south gate with both hands.
We don’t see another living being on the way to the Southern Court.
“Please don’t tell the prince or Mingi that I lost you tonight,” she pleads.
“Is Mingi your senior?”
She pulls a face, sticking out her tongue. “Demons, no!” Iseul makes a show of shuddering. “He’s my brother, and he would never let me live it down after I’ve begged him to pull some strings to help me get this position.”
My brows rise. “You did?”
She slaps a hand over her mouth before leaning in.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that… I know it’s terrible to abuse his position that way, I hate working in those stuffy kitchens.
I want to do something I know I’m good at,” she rambles, everything coming out in a single breath.
“Being the personal handmaid to the future queen is the most important job in the entire palace, and after what my brother said about you, I just know we will be best friends!” Iseul’s dark eyes shine with excitement as she talks.
I can’t help but smile at her cheerful nature. She appears to be close in age to me, but with the fae ability to glamour, it’s impossible to know for sure. Most of all, I am glad to know our positions here won’t have any bearing on our friendship, even if my marriage to Prince Joon was real.
“What did your brother say about me?”
“Well,” she says, pausing to look around before ushering me into the main room of my personal quarters and closing the door behind us.
“He was irritatingly vague about it all, but did mention that the prince has been acting differently for several days before the Choosing and thinks it has something to do with how you don’t let him bully you. ”
She might not think me brave if she knew the reason I feel safe enough to stand against a prince.
Iseul brings a hand up to the side of her face, even though we are alone, and whispers, “Mingi was not pleased to give me this assignment, so I think the prince personally requested me this time—that has to mean something, right?” By the end, she’s practically bouncing on her toes, giddy over whatever she thinks that something happens to be.
In some ways, Iseul reminds me of Talya. It will be nice to have an ally here. She will undoubtedly bring a lot of cheer to everything.
“I should let you rest now, but if you need anything, I am staying in the rooms down the hall. Oh, and if you ever get hungry, the kitchen staff will gladly sneak you one of their delicious pastries,” she says on her way out the door.
Her absence leaves the room too quiet for my liking.
I startle and bolt upright in bed, wondering what woke me. Outside, the mournful howl of wind accompanies the patter of ice tapping against the window.
Another unseasonable winter storm?
I lower my legs off the edge of the mattress, feeling the familiar ache in every inch of my body that tells me that this is no natural squall.
I go to the window and pull back the curtains. Tiny shards of frozen rain whip through the air, while above, the stars twinkle free of the obstruction of clouds.
The large, pale body of a dragon rises into the sky, curling and weaving. The beast circles the capital city outside the palace walls, then turns inward and releases a roar so powerful I feel it down to my marrow.
Two glowing blue eyes land on me, and the Winter Dragon stills. I’m rooted in place. Gradually, the storm dies down, and I realize it’s coming closer. My chest tightens, squeezing painfully, the first warning sign of an episode.
I drop down and crouch below the window, pressing my back to the wall as I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes tight.
Breathe, Violet. Joon promised to keep me safe. Breathe. Just breathe.
I repeat the command over and over in my head, even after my pulse returns to normal.