The Starwoven Song (The Starwoven Duology #1)

Chapter 1

Ihad stolen them. In the middle of the night—when not even the palace guards noticed. I crept to the Western Tower and took what was kept from me—a gemstone necklace and a little leather book. They were all that I could stash in my satchel.

I hadn’t planned to steal them, but in my dreams a melody laced in sorrow called me there. The song felt real. For a moment I thought I heard it even after I awoke from restless sleep, but that would be impossible.

Songs don’t play without instruments.

They don’t call people to forbidden spaces.

Real or not, it was my only chance to slip in unseen. Someday I’d go back for the rest. Piece by piece I would take all the things my father kept from me.

My fingers still clutched the silk pouch when dawn broke. My mother’s black gemstone necklace lay safely inside.

I brought it to her garden. A memorial hidden in plain sight. At least it was for me. I would never forget my mother, Queen Selene of Bailoc.

The point of the stone protruded, causing the fabric to bulge. I tucked my fingers inside and traced the curved edge, still concealed from the eyes that always assessed me.

“Time is no longer on our side. If it is uncovered—” Lord Joran’s voice carried into the garden from an open window in my father’s study.

“It won’t be,” My father’s voice was a low rumble as he spoke with his advisor.

“So, you’ve arranged it?” my brother, Agan, asked. I caught sight of his golden braid as he passed in front of the window.

I quickly stepped closer to the palace wall. If they saw me the conversation would end instantly. Milana, my lady’s maid’s, gaze hardened on me. An unspoken warning, before she returned to her book.

“The King has yet to give his approval.” Joran’s usual confidence wavered as he spoke. “Lord Thalen is the best option. He has the resources and has inquired about Princess Aelira directly.”

I didn’t want to hear the rest, but I couldn’t bring myself to step away.

“The Lord of the Vale?” Agan asked. “Do you really think he’s our best choice?”

“We don’t have time to find another. The supplies he can offer Bailoc will be enough to keep the threat at bay,” Lord Joran began.

“The blight will not cease, father” Agan said. “The people are only growing more desperate. It is only a matter of time before they—"

“Enough. You do not need to lecture me,” My father’s voice suddenly boomed. A stark bang echoed throughout the study. “The Vale is secluded?”

“Entirely,” Lord Joran replied. “He is equipped to handle her.”

They couldn’t have known I went to the tower. That I stole her things.

I always hid the parts of me that didn’t please others until I was breaking from the inside out. Every word carefully said, even when I was barely holding it together.

It didn’t matter what I did. My father, King Ardyn, was always disappointed. Now he assumed I needed to be handled—to be controlled.

“Why would he want to marry her?” Agan asked as if he couldn’t believe anyone ever would.

“It would ensure he’s in Bailoc’s good graces when the war begins again,” Lord Joran said. “King Ardyn, even if you do not wish to ally yourself with him, you must consider what is at stake.”

No one had mentioned a war starting. I tried to read between the lines, to uncover the truth none of them wished to say.

Whatever they were hiding—it couldn’t have just been the blight.

The lack of resources had been a problem for years.

Yet we still thrived. Maybe it had grown worse.

If it had, they never spoke of it to me.

“It doesn’t matter what his intentions are. We will move forward with the plan,” my father said.

The chill of the castle wall traveled through my palms. Each breath I drew became shorter than the last.

“He will arrive in a few days to discuss the pact,” Lord Joran said.

“Ensure it happens. Whatever you need to do—do it,” my father replied.

I wouldn’t have a say. I didn’t expect to. It was a miracle that he had waited so long to marry me off. I always wanted to imagine it was because some part of him wanted to arrange a pact with a man who was worthy of me. But with each word he spoke, I knew. It was something else entirely.

They would use me as a bargaining tool to ease the pain our kingdom felt.

I wouldn’t even get to smell my mother’s roses before they bloomed.

My fingers traced the rim of my gilded teacup—the sun glinted off its raised embellishments. Rose petals floated to the top of the pale liquid.

“It’s too hot for tea.” I exhaled.

“Drink. It’ll do you a world of good.” Milana’s expression softened.

The liquid jostled around the cup as I trembled. “They said he could handle me.” I couldn’t stop thinking about their words.

“Princess.” Milana’s hand slid over my shoulder. “You know how your father is.”

“Cruel…fueled by his hatred for his eldest daughter?”

She straightened her features, fighting a smirk. “Your spirit is too much like your mother’s.”

“She never challenged him. And even when I try not to, he still sees me as a threat.”

“You were too young to notice, but your mother…” Pain flashed in her eyes. Her death still haunted us both.

“Was never someone he could love.”

“I’m afraid there’s more to it than that.” Her words dropped to a whisper.

Whatever it was—nothing would explain the way he spoke to her. The way he spoke to me. My father would never call me his favorite. Every attempt I made to maintain the peace failed. Now he would pass me off to another. Someone he didn’t want to ally himself with at all.

Tea seared my throat as the door creaked, but I only stared into the cup.

“Lady Reina is here to see you, Your Highness,” Milana said.

Reina’s blonde curls trailed over her delicate, pink gown.

“You sent for me?” Reina curtsied as she entered my chambers.

I gestured to the velvet sofa beside me.

“You look displeased,” she said as she sat down.

I wished my mother was there to handle the news alongside me.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Reina asked.

“A marriage is being arranged for me.” The words clawed at my throat.

Her blue eyes glistened. “That’s wonderful news. When did King Ardyn inform you?” She slid her teacup onto the table with practiced precision.

“I overheard it.” Milana’s brow raised as she organized the dresses in my wardrobe.

“Don’t tell me these things—it’s unseemly,” Reina scolded.

I was about to be bartered for supplies, and yet Reina knowing what she shouldn’t was her biggest concern.

A shrill cry echoed from my balcony. I rose to meet it.

A hawk perched on the railing. Its head rotated.

Glittering russet eyes landed on mine.

“How unusual…” I uttered, unable to look away.

She groaned. “The falconer should keep a better watch on his birds. They’ll be dropping dead mice on your balcony next.”

Its broad wings unfurled as it launched into the sky.

A single feather lay on the balcony. Even as the wind blew, it remained.

“It’s a political trade.” My gaze still fixated on the single feather, until she placed her hand on my arm.

“Aren’t all royal marriages? He may be exactly what you’ve wished for.”

All I longed for was to be accepted, to be loved—to live a life far away from the palace. He would at least take me away from here. “Perhaps.”

“Well, you must ready yourself.” Her eyes narrowed as she assessed me. “You can’t meet him looking like that.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“With the look of utter disdain. It doesn’t become a princess.”

I scoffed. Her lack of compassion didn’t become her either.

The midday sun blazed down on the field. Reina provided little comfort, as she seldom did. I had come to expect it—maybe even tolerate it—but after the news I needed more.

The thin branches of the willow tree freely danced on the wind.

My mother and I would lie under the willow, gazing at the stars.

She told stories of a world beyond ours—of the fae kingdom, Nythrel, and its three territories.

I knew about the mystical forests of Lythira, the bustling marketplaces of Kybar, and the crystal sea that surrounded most of Eyrsea.

Each detail I forced myself to remember until I could picture each place in my mind.

After she died, I scoured our library for the tales, wanting to relive them, but none remained.

All tales of the fae and their magic were burned after the war.

Speaking of them was forbidden. I hadn’t known it was when my mother whispered their stories in secret, but once I learned it, I never repeated it to another. Not even my younger sister, Ashlyn.

My fingers grasped a winding willow branch as the wind blew.

“Your Highness.” Sir Cael held out the bow to me. I rolled my quivering fingers firmly around it. “Aelira…” Hearing him utter my name, without my title, broke my trance. “I hear preparations are underway for a special visitor to arrive.”

I gripped the bow harder, digging my fingernails into it. “Has he announced it? He hadn’t even told me.”

“But you knew?” He squinted as the sun’s rays shifted. I nodded. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” His voice lowered, meant for only me—a rare moment between friends bound by expectation and duty. “And how are you feeling about this news you do not yet know?” He pivoted toward me.

“If you had to guess?” The strings caught on my fingers as I launched the arrow. It plummeted straight into the soil.

He glanced around us, watching for those who would oppose him moving any closer. “I’m going to guess by that aim you are not happy with it.”

“You always make excellent observations.” Sarcasm laced my words as I dragged my teeth over my lip. Cael’s fingers brushed mine as he placed another arrow in my palm. The shaft rolled down my hand before I caught hold of it again.

“You usually find my observations useful,” he reminded me.

“Well, maybe you should keep your observations on the state of the kingdom and less on my terrible aim,” I scoffed.

“This Lord of the Vale…” He lowered his voice. “I hope he comes prepared.”

A sharp inhale caught in my chest, recalling everything I overheard. “Prepared for what?” My hands inched along the bow, gripping it harder.

“To handle you…” His voice was a whisper on the wind.

What had I done that made everyone think I needed to be handled?

“What dangerous words for a knight,” I said.

“You may look like a beaming princess…” His voice barely carried over the sound of the wind. “But I know somewhere hidden underneath it all, something different stirs in your veins.”

His words landed, and my arrow launched. I winced as the fletching tore into my flesh—blood trickled down my fingers. He pulled a linen cloth from his pocket and dabbed the blood. A bitter sting remained even as it clotted.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” I slammed the limb of the bow into the grass.

“For as long as I’ve known you…” Cael lifted it and thrust it back in my hands. “You’ve never truly let anyone dim your light.”

He didn’t know the tears I cried. The nights I spent wondering why I wasn’t enough. I never spoke to anyone about it at all.

I grabbed another arrow from my quiver, setting it against the nocking point. It flew freely until the head pierced the center of the target.

Cael smirked. “Good luck to the Lord of the Vale.”

My stomach dropped.