Summer Palace
Alist of names arrived at dawn, clutched in the beak of the witch’s raven. “Her magic is very thorough,” I mused.
“Yes, well, marriage is to be handled with the utmost of care.” Mother didn’t lift her eyes from the short list—a mere four names. “Did you want to invite them all?”
I shrugged as she slid the parchment over to me. The raven chortled its response and it sounded like agreement.
“I don’t see why not. We don’t want to interfere with whatever magic is afoot.
” My gaze slid from mother over to the raven, its feathers gleaming an iridescent midnight black.
“Her instructions said to give the summons to Kalanv and he’ll deliver them.
” Mother tapped her nails against the marble table as I gently stroked the bird’s head.
“Kalanv is such a regal name for a very majestic bird,” I tutted as Kalanv leaned into my touch.
“Very well, then.” Mother snapped her fingers and a servant brought a stack of envelopes to her at once. She counted out four and then began scrawling out the invites for the four selected Princesses. I hadn’t recognized any of the names, except one—Colette of Silver Hill.
Anxiety and arousal coiled in my chest like a dragon’s flame, as I slid the potion back and forth on the marble table.
Colette hadn’t recognized me under the mask, and she definitely wouldn’t once I took a sip from the vial.
It was a wonder that our short time together left a mark on me.
Thoughts rolled and repeated in my head of our banter and her laughter—everything was easy with her.
Conversation aside, she was breathtaking.
Golden brown hair that appeared kissed by the sun, and full red lips I couldn’t stop imagining the taste of.
“We’re going to host them in the Summer Palace,” mother laid out the plans, interrupting my daydreams of her. “With a selection of four, smaller quarters will do to keep an eye on everyone.”
“Must I take this?” I grumbled as the potion swirled like a tempest sea storm.
“Yes!”
I heaved a sigh, uncorking the vial and swallowing it all in one gulp. Fortunately, it tasted of sugared plums and nothing dreadful like rotting fish or troll boogers.
“How long until it works?” I asked, feeling a sudden tightness across my face.
Mother stared at me in horror, the color leaching from her face, as her jaw dropped open.
“I-immediately,” she spluttered, covering her mouth with both hands. “Don’t panic. It’s not permanent.”
It wasn’t apparent if she spoke to me or herself.
As I raised the silver spoon beside my hand, I froze.
Gone was the face I’d known my entire life.
It appeared that the right side of my face had been attacked by ferocious beasts.
Scars ran vertically from my hairline to well past my jaw, tugging up my lip in a half-sardonic smile, and pulling down my right eye.
The left side remained untouched, thankfully.
But my eyes were no longer the shade of the sky.
Now they were a dark brown, like the color of rich soil—of life.
“That’s … unpleasant,” I muttered. Even my voice was distorted.
Mother clutched at her diamond and ruby necklace. “You are utterly unrecognizable.”
“That’s the point,” I grumbled. “I’ve been thinking about my role in these trials, and I think I should be some sort of overseer.”
Mother, eyes still wide with horror, nodded. “Wonderful. And your name?”
I hadn’t thought that far in advance. “Gus?”
She shook her head, and the ringlets of her dark hair bounced. “Too close. What about Arthur?”
I pursed my lips and struggled to get the scarred half of my face to cooperate. “No—what about Julian?”
“That’s your middle name,” she said blandly.
“Exactly. It’s also a common name, so no one will put the pieces together and I’ll still answer to it.”
Mother nodded as she clasped her hands together. “Perfect! Oh and there’s one more thing you should know about the potion …”
“What?”
She pursed her lips as she squinted her eyes. “You won’t be able to tell anyone who you are, not until you share true love’s kiss.”
I tilted my head back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Are you saying I’ll be stuck like this? Until I find the one?”
“No!” she shrieked. “There is a potion to undo it, but if you find yourself … in the moment … you won’t be able to confess—until she kisses you.”
I slipped the empty vial into my pocket as I rose, and pressed a kiss to my mother’s brow. “I’ll see you at the summer palace.”
She gripped my hand before I could flee. “You’re not riding out there alone, are you? There’s a storm.”
I nodded. “I need time to think.”
Riding in the storm had been exactly what I needed, but it set me back time-wise.
Most of the princesses were already gathered in the summer palace by the time I had arrived—all but one.
I watched from the stables as the last one streaked across the courtyard in the downpour.
Her simple gown clung to her curves while sodden curls waved like a flag behind her as she rushed to abandon the rain.
She halted abruptly at the entrance and mud splattered the iron and wood door.
It was amusing. She seemed so free, and …
wild. Much the same as she had looked in my arms the night before, dancing across the ballroom.
Colette tugged at the soaked fabric of her gown and smoothed the wet hair out of her face before knocking on the door. I had made it halfway across the yard when she began pacing. The squelch of my boots alerted her to my presence, and she whirled, facing me.
“Oh, sir! Please tell me you can help me! I only just received my summons, and the storm made the journey treacherous, and I-I—” she was near tears as I approached. But not once did her eyes flare with disgust, nor did she withdraw from my presence.
Maybe I didn’t look as dreadful as I thought?
“I can help,” I replied, reaching for the door, but finding it locked.
“Thank you …” she trailed off, trying politely to pry a name out of me.
I shook the handle again before pounding a fist against the ornate iron.
“I tried that,” she muttered.
I arched a brow, and my eyes swept from the top of her head to her fingertips. “Probably not as loud as I just did. They have to hear you over the rain.”
The princess smirked at me and gestured with her head to the chained handle beside the door. “Which is why I rang the bell too.” She said it politely, but there was a teasing to her tone.
“I apologize,” I replied.
Colette heaved a sigh. “No—it is I who should apologize. You were only trying to help, and this weather, coupled with cold, wet clothes, only makes angry fools of us all.”
She was kind, unnaturally so, with a keen sort of wit that I enjoyed very much. I began reconciling with the fact that just last night I held her in my arms but now, we were just two people caught in the rain. Two strangers …
“What is your name?” I asked.
She dropped into an unnecessary curtsy. “I’m Princess Colette of Silver Hill.”
I feigned shock at having a princess bow to me and grasped her lightly on the elbow. “You don’t have to bow to me.”
Colette frowned and I found it so endearing, I wanted to capture her likeness on canvas to marvel at it forever. When my hand left the warmth of her arm my fingers flexed involuntarily as I tried to keep from reaching for her again. These brief touches were not enough.
“We’re all deserving of respect and kindness, no matter our station,” she quipped.
Before I could respond, the door swung open.
It was Charles, the longstanding page of the summer palace. “And you are?”
He scowled at the drenched Colette in a way that had anger surging through me. My hands balled into fists.
Colette lowered into another curtsy, announcing herself.
Charles was nice, if not a bit of a curmudgeon in the late evening, and the rain usually stiffened his joints. His eyes slid from Colette to mine, and I could see the moment he struggled not to bow to me. Mother must have alerted him to my change in appearance.
“The storm held her up,” I said at once. “Let’s get her inside and warmed up. We don’t want any of the guests catching colds.”
“Of course, Julian …” Charles agreed, still struggling through the lack of decorum he was used to bestowing.
“It was nice to meet you,” Colette said. “I hope to see you again during the trials.” She flashed me a brilliant smile and followed one of the attendants Charles had gestured for.
With Colette out of earshot, Charles sunk into a bow. “Your Highness, I do sincerely apologize.”
I waved him off. “It’s no bother. Pretend I truly am the trial overseer.”
Charles grumbled something about decency before clearing his throat. “Your official title is Governor.”
My shoulders rose and fell with my breath. That had mother written all over it.
“We have three weeks until Heart’s Night,” I began. “When’s the first trial?”
Charles kept pace alongside me to my royal chambers. “The peas have all been placed under their mattresses, and the first trial is set for two days time, with each trial taking place every three days.”
“And the first trial?”
“Duty, Your Highness. We’re testing their ability to walk gracefully as one would expect of royalty.”