Chapter 2
I watched the procession of carriages enter the palace grounds from my perch on the window seat high above in the very tallest of the palace towers. I had claimed the space as my own and no one was allowed past the door. It was my sanctuary where I got to do and be whatever and whoever I wanted. The place had been a dusty, unused storage room, forgotten by all but the oldest of the palace inhabitants. When I was younger I’d taken it into my head that I wanted to be an explorer. I started by exploring the castle and trying to discover all its secrets. There were hidden passages and secret rooms all over the place, but this tower had been my favourite. A winding stairway climbed from a secret door in my chambers—which I had discovered quite by accident—and opened into a circular room with views in all directions. I supposed at one time it had been a defensive position or a lookout, but now it was mine and over the years I had transformed it. I’d pulled in bits of furniture that were no longer used and which I found in other storage rooms. I’d painted the walls and the floor and filled it with books and anything else I’d taken a fancy to. My mother often commented that I was a bower bird, and looking around the room, she was probably right.
From where I sat I could see the gates of the castle grounds and watched as each horse-drawn carriage arrived. I noted the insignias on the side of each carriage denoting their kingdom of origin and the small banner attached to the front of the carriage which declared the family. I knew the insignias for the kingdoms, but the family banners were a mystery. I kept a list of them, making a crude drawing of each and noting such details as how many carriages, the size, and my estimation of their wealth. The carriages of the royal families were the most opulent, which was to be expected, and they also had many more carriages than the other families. Some of these, I assumed, were just to transport their luggage.
Each carriage was met by a footman and directed to the appropriate accommodation. The palace was a series of interconnected buildings, each with their own entrance and stables. Most of the time these other buildings were kept shut up, but now each and every one of them had been opened, aired out, cleaned to within an inch of its life and redecorated to ensure the visitors would be suitably accommodated. It had taken months and I didn’t want to think about how much it cost. Our kingdom was rich, the people of Eudaimonia well cared for, but still, this whole farce seemed particularly lavish. The king and queen, my mother and father, while enjoying the luxuries of being royal, were not the type to put on such displays of wealth. And that they were doing so for my birthday was embarrassing.
While I was excited to finally meet our neighbours, I was also a bit overwhelmed by the planned festivities. A month of parties, balls, picnics and the like. Not every day, of course, but enough that it seemed excessive. I would have been happy with a single night. A ball to celebrate my birth with cake and music and dancing and…maybe a kiss.
As yet another carriage entered the grounds I wondered about Werifesteria. Why had they closed their borders? What had happened to them? After my lesson with Master Frances, I’d asked around. There was a lot of gossip. Some said there was a spell on the entire kingdom cast by the godmother of the princess when she was a baby. There was magic in the continent. Not much, but enough that an evil spell wasn’t out of the question. But over an entire kingdom? I doubted there was enough magic for that.
Asking about Werifesteria had also got the palace staff talking about the other kingdoms, specifically Thalasso. Some said they wore clothing made from scales of giant sea creatures, others said that the scales were not clothing but actually their skin. Others said they lived in the sea and had fish tails. By comparison, Querencia and Kairos were boring. There were no stories of magic or evil godmothers or fish people.
But all the young maids—and some of the older ones—agreed that the princes were rumoured to be both handsome and charming. There was even a wager going about which prince would be the most handsome. And I knew, although no one admitted it, there was a wager about which prince I would choose.
None, if I had my way. Marrying a prince from a neighbouring kingdom would mean giving up my right to the throne of Eudaimonia and although I wasn’t ready to become queen, I also didn’t want to give away my birth right.
My parents had to know this, didn’t they? They had to know that if I married one of the princes my father would have to find another heir or risk losing the kingdom to a merger. So why were they doing this?
The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. Wouldn’t it be better for the kingdom for me to marry someone within its borders? If I married a fellow Eudaimonian then I could retain my claim on the throne and still become queen, keeping our borders intact.
Unless this was all for show. Was my birthday just an excuse to show the other kingdoms our strength and wealth? Had there been murmurings of war?
It was entirely possible that there were political manoeuvrings that I knew nothing about because I had never taken any particular interest in the politics of the continent. I hadn’t thought I had to. Of course Master Frances had tried to teach me, but I hadn’t listened and I’d never had any desire to shadow my father as he went about his work. My father was a strong and healthy man. I thought there was plenty of time for me to learn how to lead this kingdom, but this…this posturing, because that was what I now saw it as, meant that maybe I didn’t have as much time as I thought.
‘Hello Princess.’
I turned to the voice and let my lip lift in the barest semblance of a smile. It was more of a sneer, really.
‘Lord Parisar,’ I replied.
I had been forced out of my tower by a stern reprimand by my mother and had come to the gardens to play host, not that the guests were ready to make an appearance. It would be hours before the reception ball that evening and I was sure the visitors would all be taking as much time as they could to rest from their journey and dress for the evening. Everyone would want to look their best tonight for the express purpose of impressing the other kingdoms. They would be a bunch of peacocks parading around with their tail feathers spread trying to outdo one another.
‘The gardens are lovely,’ Lord Parisar spoke when I didn’t say anything. ‘I’ve always admired them.’
I examined him, wondering just how much he had admired them and whether he was imagining them belonging to him.
‘They are beautiful,’ I replied. ‘My mother devotes a lot of time to them.’
It was true. We had gardeners, but my mother loved to spend time amongst the plants and flowers and was very involved in their care and maintenance.
We lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. At least it was uncomfortable for me. I didn’t like being around Lord Parisar, but as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, I got the feeling he didn’t feel the same unease around me.
Lord Parisar reached out to pluck a rose from the nearest bush and then brought it to his nose, breathing deeply before offering it to me.
I looked at it for a long moment before reaching to take it, but he moved it swiftly out of my reach, smirking at me. I frowned at him.
‘The scent is sweet,’ he said, holding the rose out to me again. ‘Don’t you agree?’
Keeping one eye on him, I leaned forward to breathe in the perfume of the rose. It was sweet, and it was my favourite; a deep red rose with a single white stripe in the centre of one petal.
‘It is,’ I replied, straightening, unsure of what he wanted from me. ‘And beautiful.’
‘As are you,’ he said, tucking the rose into the top pocket of his coat, arranging it so the bloom peeked out like a kerchief.
I snorted at his words. No one called me beautiful. I knew I wasn’t beautiful. Pretty, maybe, but beautiful? No. That description belonged to my mother and I had long resigned myself to the fact that I could never hold a candle to her.
He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the unladylike noise I’d made, a teasing smile playing around his lips. I suppose, objectively, he was good looking, although most of the time I couldn’t get past my discomfiture when I was around him. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust the look in his eye or the way his father shadowed my father. I knew he had a gaggle of admirers in the village, and from what my maids said, in the palace as well.
Truth be told, I had once been charmed by him too. But it was a long time ago and I’d since gotten over my childhood crush.
‘It is unbecoming of a gentleman to lie so boldly,’ I said with a sniff.
‘I would never lie to you, Princess,’ he replied, his voice even.
‘We both know that’s not true.’
His face remained pleasant but I saw the tightening of his jaw at my barb. I had caught him in a lie once before and although he might not know, I did and I remembered. The words had cut deep at the time but I was thankful for them. At least I was no longer under his spell like everyone else in the kingdom. I knew the charming Lord Parisar was anything but. Oh, he played the part well enough and I was sure he could have any number of young women fall at his feet if he so desired, but not me. Never me. Because I knew who he really was underneath that slick facade he wore like a suit of armour.
‘I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,’ he replied, turning his face away from me and looking toward the latest entrance of carriages that trundled along the stretch of driveway from the palace gates.
I snorted again and followed his gaze, surprised to see his family’s crest on the door of the carriages.
‘You are staying on the palace grounds?’ I blurted out, surprised.
Lord Adryon Gaimond had his own palatial grounds not far from the boundary of the palace compound. I’d been there once, when I was a child. I couldn’t understand why he and his family would be staying with us when they lived so close.
Lord Parisar shrugged. ‘It was the king’s suggestion.’
It was strange and only added to all the other peculiar things I’d noticed about this entire event. Why did the king need his advisor close? Why were they having such a lavish celebration, anyway? And why was there such a show of wealth and strength on display? It hadn’t escaped my notice that the guards were far more visible and their numbers had grown in the days leading up to today.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, whirling on Parisar.
If anyone knew what was going, it would be Lord Parisar. He was in his father’s pocket as much as his father was in the king’s pocket. I may not have been taking much interest in the politics of the kingdoms, but I for sure knew Parisar was.
‘I believe this is all for the celebration of your birth,’ he said.
‘Not that,’ I snapped. ‘Everything else.’ I waved my hand around to encompass the estate and everyone in it.
He pulled his eyebrows together. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ he said before he looked down and adjusted his cuffs, looking for all the world as if he was ignorant that anything was amiss. But it was too practised. To…deliberate. He knew something.
‘I mean this over-the-top farce,’ I growled. ‘All the pomp and fancy and…I mean, the guards are wearing armour. Polished armour,’ I said, spitting the words out. ‘Something is going on and I want to know what it is.’
‘It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about,’ Parisar said in the most condescending tone I had ever heard from him. ‘It’s for the adults to deal with. You just run along and read your books and dress in your pretty dresses and leave the politics to those of us who care.’ He turned away, ignoring me and the temper tantrum I was about to rain down on him.
But before I could demand he tell me what he knew—not that Parisar would tell me anything if he didn’t want to—my maid was calling to me. It was time to dress. It was time to get ready to meet our guests.
I narrowed my eyes at Parisar but he continued to ignore me, finding the nearest rose bush distractingly fascinating. I huffed and spun on my heel, marching away from him, irritation burning through me.
‘The red one,’ I said when I stalked into my chamber and saw the maids had prepared my blue dress. ‘I want to wear the red one.’
I didn’t know why I demanded it, maybe it had something to do with the anger still coursing through me or maybe it was the sight of the red rose tucked into Parisar’s coat.
No. Not that.
Red was a power colour and if my father wanted to make a statement, then I would follow his lead. We would be a unified, fortified, and impenetrable front…force? Whatever it was. Whatever my father wanted to show these other nobles, we would show them. Together.
I stewed in my irritation as the maids helped me dress. I could barely sit still as they did my hair and makeup. Greta clucked her tongue over the callouses on my fingers—a result of my archery hobby—and massaged thick cream into my hands, hoping to soften them. It was a fool’s errand.
I rolled Parisar’s words over in my head. Words that dripped with contempt and ridicule and disrespect.
And maybe a little truth.
I hadn’t taken an interest in anything to do with the kingdom before now, content to let my father and his court deal with it. I couldn’t very well demand to be let into the inner circle now.
But the fact that it was Parisar who said those things to me…that he was the one to point out I had no right to demand answers, was what really burned.
And the way he’d said it.
His father had once stated I was nothing but a porcelain vase to be kept on a shelf and used only when absolutely necessary because no one was entirely sure I could even do the one job a vase was intended for. Lord Adryon hadn’t said it to me directly, of course. I’d overheard him as he’d come out of a meeting with my father.
And maybe there was a hint of truth to it. I was supposed to be heir to the throne but I’d shown no interest or inclination for the job. The one job I was born for. And Parisar had been right. I did prefer to spend my time with my books rather than learning about the politics that came along with running a kingdom, but I had plenty of time to learn. My father wasn’t going to be handing over his crown any time soon, so why shouldn’t I enjoy my youth and freedom while I could?
‘There,’ Greta said, stepping back.
I looked up at my reflection in the vanity and gasped. It was me and yet…it wasn’t. I looked…
‘I look…’
‘Like your mother,’ Greta supplied for me, and she was right.
I’d barely looked at myself in a mirror for years. When I was younger I had despaired over my resemblance to the king. King Rowan was handsome, but he was handsome in a way that did not look good on me, his daughter. Knowing there was nothing I could do about it, there was nothing I could do to change my genetics, I had taken to avoiding my reflection. It would do me no good to become obsessed with my appearance and everything I lacked.
But the girl—no, the woman—looking back at me was…beautiful.
The way Parisar looked at me in the garden came back to me and a hot flush stained my cheeks. Had he been telling the truth when he said that?
The thought was immediately wiped away by the cruel words he’d said before we parted. No. He didn’t think me beautiful and I didn’t want him to. He didn’t like me and the feeling was mutual.
As for how I looked now? Well…I smiled. I wanted to make an impression on our guests and I suppose this would be it. I was the Princess of Eudaimonia and whatever else was going on behind the scenes, they would know this one thing. I was beautiful.