Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The corridors of Solstice Hall stretched endlessly before Prince Ryden, each faelight casting shadows that felt heavier than usual.
He’d been summoned to his mother’s private withdrawing room—a space she reserved for matters requiring discretion rather than ceremony—and he trudged forward with mounting resignation.
No doubt she wished to discuss her selections for the Crown Court now that this madness was officially happening.
As he approached the double doors, they opened to reveal Lady Rivenna Rowanwood preparing to take her leave.
The sight of her wasn’t surprising—his mother had long maintained a friendship with the formidable matriarch of the Rowanwood family, speaking of her with the particular fondness reserved for those who’d offered guidance through difficult times.
What counsel had his mother sought tonight, he wondered, that required such a private audience?
“Lady Rowanwood,” he said, offering a proper bow as she moved toward him.
“Your Highness,” she replied. Her curtsy was perfectly correct, yet somehow she still managed to look down at him despite the difference in their heights. As she straightened, her piercing eyes assessed him with an intensity that made him want to fidget.
“May I offer my congratulations on your granddaughter’s selection for the Crown Court,” he said, falling back on formal pleasantries. “Lady Aurelise’s magical demonstration was truly extraordinary.”
“How kind of you to say so.” Her smile was the sort that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She strode forward, then stopped in the doorway before passing him, leaning in just slightly.
“Your Highness,” she murmured, “I trust you understand that not every flower in a garden is meant to be plucked. Some are far too delicate for careless hands.”
“My lady?” he enquired, raising an eyebrow though he understood her meaning perfectly.
It seemed the Rowanwoods were of one mind—first Evryn’s stern warnings at the Opening Ball, and now the formidable grandmother herself.
They had clearly decided their delicate flower needed protection, and he had been unanimously designated as the garden pest.
“Should my granddaughter experience even the slightest distress while under your attention,” Lady Rivenna said, her voice carrying the gentle menace of silk concealing steel, “I shall devote my considerable resources to ensuring that your future holds regrets of such magnificent proportions they will eclipse all other memories of your youth.”
The words hung between them for a moment as the older woman smiled a frost-bitten smile. Then she was gone, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
Ryden entered his mother’s withdrawing room, still processing Lady Rivenna’s warning.
The space was designed for comfort rather than grandeur, with walls of soft pearl-gray and furniture upholstered in shades of lavender and cream.
His mother sat in her favorite chair near the window, a portfolio of some sort lying closed on the low table before her.
The moonlight streaming through the glass caught the pale blue of her hair, making it seem almost white.
“Come rest yourself, darling,” she said in that voice she reserved solely for him, patting the chair beside her without glancing up from her papers.
Ryden obeyed, sinking into the plush velvet. “Lady Rivenna appears to have her talons particularly sharpened this evening,” he observed, hoping his tone conveyed casual amusement rather than the wariness he actually felt.
His mother’s lips curved in the faintest smile.
“Lady Rivenna’s counsel remains consistent with our research.
We both believe you need a partner whose magic will provide a grounding influence—earth magic, protective barriers, something with natural stability.
The deep magical bond created through marriage should theoretically stabilize your surges. ”
“She does not seem pleased about her granddaughter’s inclusion in the Crown Court.”
“Oh, she was fully aware Lady Aurelise would be selected. Grateful that I agreed to it, in fact.”
“Agreed?” Ryden straightened, genuinely surprised. “She requested her granddaughter be selected?”
“Of course. The Rowanwoods are one of our most distinguished families, yet their position has grown somewhat precarious with their older daughter’s continued lack of manifestation.
To have their younger daughter debut this Season and not be included in the Crown Court would have invited speculation about the family’s standing.
Lady Rivenna is far too shrewd to allow such whispers to take root.
She does not, however, wish you to actually choose Lady Aurelise.
She knows her granddaughter’s temperament would make her unsuitable for royal life. ”
Ryden exhaled slowly, remembering Evryn’s similar comments. “This seems to be a common sentiment among her family.”
“I concur, naturally. We needn’t waste time considering her. Music magic could hardly be further from what we’re seeking. Far too emotional.”
“Her magic was …” Ryden paused, remembering the way those invisible strings had seemed to reach directly into his chest. Another involuntary shiver ran through him. “Magnificent.”
“Oh yes, quite extraordinary. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.
” His mother’s brow furrowed slightly. “Though it is curious. The Rowanwoods typically manifest earth-based abilities, particularly those relating to lumyrite. The magic in their bloodline could potentially be the sort of grounding influence we seek for your authority surges. Yet Lady Aurelise’s gift appears to have diverged from her family’s traditional affinities.
An influence from her mother’s side, presumably.
Nevertheless, given the fact that your surges sometimes correlate with emotional intensity, a magic that so powerfully stirs feeling would be particularly ill-advised. ”
She waved a hand over the portfolio, and it transformed into something far more sophisticated. A series of translucent panels slid into the air where they hung, bobbing gently, each displaying a moving portrait of one of the Crown Court ladies along with flowing script beneath.
“Now,” his mother said as she began swiping elegantly through the panels with her hand, moving and reordering them, “let us review our true prospects.”
She paused at Lady Coravelle Aerwynne’s panel.
The young woman’s portrait showed her laughing at something off-frame, her wide eyes sparkling.
“Sweet girl, excellent family. They traditionally manifest air-related magic, and hers takes the form of protective barriers of air. Shields, if you will, that deflect and dissipate other magic. Potentially a good match for you, though mere deflection falls short of what we truly need.”
Swipe. Lady Olivienne Silverglen materialized, her knowing smile suggesting she was in on a joke no one else understood.
“Ah, now here is our premier candidate. Glenwhisper magic is uncommon and often overlooked, but as my research confirmed, one of the ways in which it nurtures life forces within the natural realm is by anchoring plants’ roots more firmly in soil—and I believe it might be able to anchor your magic, preventing those troublesome surges. ”
Ryden made a sound somewhere between acknowledgment and dismissal, shifting slightly as the room seemed to shrink around him.
Swipe. Lady Floravine Nightrose appeared, her serious expression and dark eyes suggesting depths worth exploring. “Her shadeweaving ability could potentially be another form of barrier magic between your surges and the rest of the world. I’m told nothing can pass through the shadows she shapes.”
Swipe. Swipe. Swipe.
Each panel brought another face, another list of qualifications, another set of calculations about compatibility and potential magical stability. Ryden felt the walls of the room pressing closer with every assessment, his chest tightening until breathing became conscious effort.
His mother’s voice faded to a distant hum as she continued her analysis.
This was his life she was methodically arranging like pieces on a game board, his future determined by potential magical compatibility.
It was almost as if the ladies in these panels weren’t people to her—they were solutions to a problem, variables in an equation that ended with him bound to someone he didn’t love for the sake of stability he wasn’t even certain would work.
But he had always known it was naive to hope for love. His mother had reminded him as such on numerous occasions. She had not found love in her own arranged match, but had instead discovered genuine love only years later.
“—don’t you think?”
Ryden blinked, realizing his mother had asked him something. “Forgive me, I was … considering the options.”
She studied him. “You look pale. Are you feeling unwell?”
“No.” He forced his shoulders to relax, his hands to unclench. “Simply tired.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t look convinced, but she gestured toward the door. “Go rest, then. We can resume our analysis of the candidates tomorrow.”
As he rose to leave, she reached out, her fingers resting lightly on his sleeve. The sudden gentleness in her touch made him pause.
“Ryden,” she said, her voice softening. “I love you. You understand that, don’t you? This isn’t meant as punishment.”
Something inside him unwound slightly, the tension in his chest easing just enough to draw a proper breath. “I know.”
“I wanted better for you. I wanted you to have …” Her words trailed into silence, her gaze drifting past him to settle somewhere over his shoulder.
“What you found with Ellian?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes returned to his immediately, a flash of something vulnerable quickly masked. “You know we do not speak of that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re right. I apologize.”