2. Esmira
ESMIRA
“ M ilady, the king would like to speak with you.”
The hesitant tones of Marta, my lady-in-waiting, interrupted my mid-morning walk through the gardens. I paused mid-stride. “He’s returned?”
Usually, I was the first to know when my father and his escort returned from the Boundary. The Night Market—now only a memory of two nights ago—had been a distraction, but the lack of his presence in the palace filled me with an anxiety that was difficult to explain.
Marta kept her gaze on the ground. “He’s waiting in his chambers.”
The fact that she never looked at me when she spoke made me feel uncomfortable. She was only a year or two younger yet treated me as though I were her elder. In contrast, Rhea and her lady-in-waiting were friends who shared each other's deepest secrets.
My hands went to my hair and the loose curls that had fallen during my walk. The morning dew dampened the hem of my skirt. “I must dress, will you help me?”
“Yes, milady.”
Back in my rooms, Marta dressed me in an elegant purple gown with a deep neckline and a full skirt with splits that ran to my thighs, showing off my muscular legs.
It wasn’t common for a princess to be athletic but I preferred my morning walks in the gardens to lying in bed, growing soft and plump like some of the ladies who dwelled in the castle.
A golden belt cinched my trim waist and Marta wove golden beads into my hair, letting my curls hang free before securing them with a tiara.
Round gold earrings hung from my ears, and the heavy weight of gold bracelets circled my wrists.
Marta’s fingers loosened the bandage, and I almost pulled away, but my father did not appreciate any signs of weakness or imperfection.
When my fingers were free of the wrapping, I stretched them, relieved to see no sign of glass.
My hand had healed, leaving nothing but an odd tingling and a slight off-color to my fingertips.
“You are ready,” Marta announced.
I slipped my feet into sandals and moved into the washroom to study my reflection. While common folk were not allowed to have mirrors, the palace still had a few nailed to the walls, the backing removed, inspected frequently by the Venators.
I looked beautiful, but my brown eyes held a glimmer of concern, and my mouth frowned back at me.
Taking a deep breath, I tugged my lips back, trying to make myself appear calm and confident.
My father responded well to strength and decisiveness, and I had an inkling about the conversation we’d have. Today, I had to be persuasive.
The mirror rippled, and the shape of a shadow appeared on the other side. A pale face appeared, violet eyes blazed.
Princess .
I cried out and stumbled back, my foot catching against the claws of the tub.
“Milady?” Marta called.
My hands shook as I spun away from the mirror and squeezed my eyes shut. What had I just seen?
“It’s nothing,” I called, fighting to keep the tremor out of my tone. “Walk with me.”
Marta did not protest, and together we made our way from the upper halls—the private chambers of those who dwelled in the palace—down to the wide halls where meetings were conducted.
The sprawling palace had stood within the kingdom for well over a hundred years.
It was the original seat of power for the Wicked Prince, and when he was cursed, my father and my uncle stormed the city and took over the palace.
Knowing this was once the Wicked Prince’s home made me shiver.
Did the sorcerer curse him on the front steps?
Had he once walked through my own rooms?
Sometimes I noticed a haunted aura to the palace, as though the shadows were alive. Watching.
Marta curtsied, then fled as we reached the door to my father’s chambers. Steeling myself for the conversation, I knocked.
“Come,” came my father’s curt voice.
I opened the door into a sunlit room, touched with hues of lavender.
Once the sky had been blue with golden sunlight cleansing the land, or at least, that’s what I’d once been told.
Until the magicians formed the Boundary, infusing the sky with hints of lavender.
Now the light was tinted with the aftereffects of magic, and wild storms claimed the kingdom with whipping winds and often vicious hailstorms.
Rows of weapons covered one wall, swords and shields and spears he’d used in battle.
On the other wall were the heads of monsters he’d slain, stuffed and mounted.
Terrible, dead eyes stared back at me. I’d been frightened of them as a child, now, they still left me shuddering but I had a new perspective: curiosity. What were their stories?
Father rose, waving his hand. “Esmira. Come.”
Rings covered his fingers, and he wore a rich robe of furs, a crown atop his head.
He was tall, still heavily muscled from his years of fighting.
The tight coils of his black hair were peppered with gray, although he usually shaved his head.
His face was thin, almost sunken, although his eyes were sharp, shrewd with knowledge.
As he came around the desk, I bowed, butterflies of apprehension dancing in my belly.
He took a seat on the sofa, underneath the monsters, and I joined him, angling my body so that I had a view of his face. As it often did, a longing arose for him to be proud of me, to place a gentle hand on my shoulder or embrace me with the same pride he reserved for his commanders.
Keeping my hands still, I resisted the urge to tap my foot against the floor and ask about the Boundary. But my father loathed fidgeting, and the last time I’d spoken first, a slap across my mouth was a reminder to show deference to my elders.
Dark eyes assessed me. “You look more like your mother each day.” He sighed, a note of sadness haunting his tone.
“Thank you,” I said, even though I had no control over what I looked like.
Questions about my mother rose, but I held them under my tongue, lest I turn my father’s wrath on me.
She’d died long ago, when I was only six or seven.
Father claimed dark forces killed her, and my memory contained glimmers of her presence, moments of pure fear followed by intense love.
I’d always known my father cared about me, but I knew with unwavering certainty that my mother had loved me fiercely.
The servants were forbidden to talk about her, but I’d overheard whispers that she was going mad, that she saw things that were not real.
Even quieter whispers speculated on whether she had magic.
I knew better than to ask my father whether any of those rumors were true.
“I have held back from offering your hand in marriage for selfish reasons, aware I am the only one who can keep my daughter truly safe in this world. However, it is time for you to do your duty as a princess, to work for your kingdom.”
The news I’d been dreading finally arrived. “Father, I am happy to do my duty, but isn’t there something I might do here with you?”
Father patted my hand, a surprising affection from him.
A shock jolted through me.
He stared at my hand, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. I followed his gaze and, to my horror, noticed my fingertips were lighter than before, almost luminescent.
I placed my other hand over them, hiding the unnatural hue.
“It is reasonable to be nervous about leaving home, which is why I have secured an alliance between us and Elquin, the kingdom to the south. Prince Orim has come of age, and in a few weeks, he will arrive here. At that time, we will announce your betrothal and the political alliance. I assure you, the southern lands of Elquin are far safer than our own, and even though they have been struck by famine, the marriage will secure a trade alliance. Food in exchange for armies to guard the Boundary. You will be far from the Boundary, far from the monsters, and far from the menace that stalks our land.”
Tears of disappointment crept to the corners of my eyes but I bowed my head to hide them. “Father, I wish to help. I want to understand the Boundary and help you stop these monsters. Is marriage the only way?”
At those words, he stood, long strides taking him to the window.
When he spoke, his voice was hard and clipped.
“Esmira, you are but a young woman, not bred for battle, nor should you be. I intentionally kept you here, protected in the palace where you have led a life of peace and pleasure. That is my gift to you. Protection. No daughter of mine will go near the Boundary nor learn about monsters. You know nothing about the horrors of magic or its dangers. We are in this plight because of Mirror Magic, a vile, evil magic. In fact, all those who possess an inkling of Mirror Magic are put to death by blade, lest they use their power to summon more unnatural monsters. That is why the academy was formed, to provide oversight over magic lest it ruin us again. I have worked hard to rebuild this kingdom, to use the Venators to hunt down those with magic, so that we might know when danger strikes again. Peace is constantly under threat, and I would not have my daughter march in a battle of blood and magic. Do your duty, marry the prince to the south, become his queen, keep the peace, and ensure we have armies to fight. One day, this land will be ruled by peace, and I will not stop until I see such a day.”
His words felt like the hard edge of a sword against my soft skin. What did I know about war, monsters, and bloodshed?
A pale light glowed in my lap.
I lifted my hand, perturbed to see my fingers had a slight golden halo to them. Quickly, I buried them in my skirts, heart pounding. I needed to get out. I needed to leave.
“As you wish, Father. Is there anything else?”