“Good evening, Your Highness. I don’t believe I’ve had the honor.” She grinned impishly. “You might call me Meryn. I’m the resident conjurer, crystal connoisseur, and I’m an amazing baker to boot.” I laughed again, even as she continued. “Actually, you could probably ask the sulky one who hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. He’s sampled my wares, and don’t let that stone face fool you. That man has an unparalleled weakness for muffins.” She directed an exaggeratedly stern look toward Jyn, who raised a suspicious eyebrow as we fell to giggles.
“You’re enjoying yourself, then?” I asked.
“Oh, most thoroughly.” Her skirts shifted around her as she danced, a shifting swirl of colors and patterns. The crystals around her neck glinted in the chandelier light from above. I squirmed under the scrutiny of my guests, eyeing Meryn as warily as they’d watched me all evening. She was utterly undaunted by them and, when the song ended, she curtsied graciously. “Congratulations, My Queen.”
I grinned at Meryn, grateful for her support. If the people decided to revolt, I suppose I could ask her to turn them all into frogs––at the very least. Now, that would make for an interesting story. Natylia of Thrais, Queen of the Frog Kingdom.
Lost to my reverie, I jumped in surprise when my next partner simply took my hand and tugged. The rough skin now wrapped around mine was peppered with scars and, when I spun to face this new person, my heart skipped several beats.
Here was the man; the man who disappeared when I looked for him.
“Highness,” he said. His voice was husky and the breath brushing my face thickened with the scent of strong drink.
“Sir,” I said politely. I followed his lead through the steps. He pulled us further onto the floor as blood rushed in my ears. Something was wrong. This man wore finery, but the cloth was old, worn in spots not necessarily noticeable in passing. His blue eyes locked tightly onto my face, except in the moments when he’d glance to the wall where Jyn stood.
“Such a pity, Highness, that you’ve been queen for such a short time.”
I stared at him, hard.
“You see, we in the village rather enjoyed your mother’s rule. We aren’t keen on allowing an usurper to take her place.” He laughed when I took a sharp breath, and then he lowered his voice further. “Oh no, Highness, you won’t be alerting your guard to any danger. If you so much as squeak, I’ll make your death slow and agonizing instead of quick and clean. Well . . . as clean as I can manage.”
He tugged me closer, the smell of drink even stronger and I glanced down. There, from inside the shirt of his sleeve, peeked a dagger.
And the silver point was pressed firmly into the thin fabric at my stomach.
Chapter 5
The man didn’t miss a beat. His threat, the blade, each motion happened in the same seconds as the carefully choreographed steps. If I screamed, he’d stab me sooner than planned. Jyn had to be suspicious, but I couldn’t risk a look in his direction. I needed to buy time.
“Do you even know why I took the throne?”
“I don’t need to. Your mother is the rightful ruler for another six years.”
That was all I needed. I found myself grateful for the pungent drink that overwhelmed my senses. He was distracted, off on a tangent about my young mind not being able to comprehend the political intricacies of ruling a kingdom. I racked my brain for an idea—something, anything—that I could use to alert Jyn. We were so far from him, and I could feel the dagger’s tip pressing dangerously into my stomach with every word he spoke. How had Jyn not already noticed something was wrong?
I realized the problem after a change of hands—Jyn hadn’t noticed because for all appearances we were still going through the steps. I paused in my motions, stiffened my back. The man silenced for a moment at the change. He leveled his eyes on me, gauging my expression.
“Either way, it’s a pity,” he continued, oblivious. “A pity that your life is forfeit to a game of politics. But your mother is the rightful queen and we the people have decided—”
“We the people? So, you aren’t alone?”
The man faltered. “Well, I am acting of my own volition tonight, but a few of us have discussed the matter and we’ve decided that you’re unfit for the throne.”
“Who is we?” I asked. I doubted I would get a coherent answer. The man’s eyes weren’t fully focused. I wondered how much he’d drank just to get up the nerve to approach me.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” His grip at my waist tightened, and I flinched.
“Who put you up to this? I don’t think you really know what you’re doing.”
“As I said, I’m not at liberty to say. But we have decided—”
He had a blade pressed to his throat before he could finish the thought. The dagger in his hand flicked into my stomach, enough to nick the skin beneath the thin tulle, but I hardly noticed.
Jyn slammed the man down to the floor, and the dancers parted in a wave of gasps. I ignored the gentle pull at my arm. Frozen, I watched as Jyn settled a foot onto the man’s back. He yanked the man’s arms behind him rather violently, and I heard a small crack when Jyn lifted the drunkard’s wrist to shake the dagger free.
“What exactly did you think you were going to do?” Jyn spat, his voice low.
The man began to sob. He spoke in soft, stuttering words that I couldn’t really make out. Jyn sighed and added pressure to the injured wrist. I cringed. Jyn didn’t usually have need of his abilities and, on the occasion that he did, I was generally appalled. Once before, and only once before, had someone tried to physically harm me. That man hadn’t been able to walk away.
“Some of us feel that the princess isn’t qualified to take the throne. I was nominated to take care of the problem.”
“You think my queen is a problem to be taken care of?” Jyn’s eyebrows rose. “Like waste, simply to be disposed of? You think that the Council is incapable of making an intelligent decision regarding the ruling party of Thrais?”
Murmurs filled the room. I could see guilt on many of their faces, eyes that had lingered extra-long on my movements throughout the night. Another tug at my arm and I glanced over my shoulder as Camion tried to pull me back toward where Meryn stood, slightly away from the crowd, gesturing at my stomach. A healer, and a very good healer, but I couldn’t move. Cold traveled over my skin, and my body trembled. Mother and Annalea had stilled as well and I noted the wary flick of their eyes. Neither seemed to want to risk drawing attention to themselves with movement. Beside them, their own guards had unsheathed weapons. Even the nobility from Wydus had been pressed back, the three royals protected by Devlyn himself.
The man started to lift his head from the floor and Jyn shoved him back down, motioning to one of the guards nearby.
“Shackles. I want him in the dungeons. And I want names.” Jyn’s mask was in place, his expression ruthless and cold. His eyes flashed in the light as he scanned the crowd. “Do any of you agree with him? I’m sure there’s plenty of space for all of you in the dungeons.”
No matter their opinions, no one was going to confess to Jyn. Especially not in his current state of temper. He slipped his dagger back into his boot and allowed the man to stand, but only once he’d clamped the man in the irons a guard brought him. The drunk man’s legs shook as Jyn shoved him at the guards.
“If any of you—any of you,” he emphasized with venom, “try to harm my queen again, you’ll meet a far worse fate than he did. I sincerely hope none of your names are on his list.”
Jyn made his way across the room to where I stood and knelt to examine the wound on my middle. He tugged at the tulle gently, trying to decipher what was blood and what was actual wound. My hands shook at my sides. After a moment, he stood and placed a steadying hand at the small of my back.
“I’m taking her Majesty to the infirmary.”
Mother nodded at Jyn. I let him steer me from the hall. Whispers broke out across the room as we passed the threshold. I heard Mother�
�s voice above them and, even though I couldn’t make out the words she was saying, I knew that she tried to regain calm.
I glanced at Jyn from the corner of my eye. His breathing was uneven and small tremors shook the fingers rested against my back. He was clearly lost to thought, his eyes locked onto the stairs in front of us. Focused on the anger racing over his face, I found that I had a much easier time calming myself. But I couldn’t bear the silence.
“Jyn, I’m okay. Thank you.”
For a moment, I received no reply and then, “I had no idea. I was utterly oblivious to the danger you were in. If you hadn’t missed a beat . . . ”
“He took us into the thick of the crowded dance floor. He knew you wouldn’t be able to see the blade that way,” I said quietly. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. Besides, I knew how to get your attention. Throwing a step was probably the easiest part of tonight.”
“Wait, what?” Jyn paused his steps and turned to face me. I met his eyes.
“I missed that step because I knew that you’d come to investigate if something seemed off. He said that if I screamed he’d kill me more slowly . . .” I shivered.
Jyn’s jaw flexed. “Clever, Princess. I always underestimate you.”
“You do. If I staggered, I knew you’d want a closer look.”
“You were right. Your steps had been perfect all night. I was concerned.” He sighed. “I should have noticed something was off sooner, though. I’d been looking for that man and, in my distraction, I had missed that he was your partner.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Jyn. You did your job. Even if you’re a bit terrifying when you do it.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t want a repeat incident.”
I tapped the spot on my dress where the blood had steeped into a large spot. “The tulle makes the blood seem worse than it is. Once the healer cleans it, you’ll see. It barely hurts even.”
“I believe you, but are you okay?”
“A bit shaken, perhaps,” I said, ending with a sigh. “I’m far more interested in knowing who sent him after me.”
“Me as well,” he growled, eyes flashing.
“Devlyn will get him to talk, I’m sure. We’ll just have to be wary from here on out.”
“This won’t happen again. I’m sorry he got so close.”
I looped my arm around his waist and leaned into his side. “I’m still alive because of you, Jyn. Don’t think I don’t appreciate your rescue.”
He sighed and draped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m still going to keep both eyes on you.”
“Ugh, you’re like the overprotective older brother I never wanted.”
“But what would you do without me?” Jyn grinned. “Still, I won’t fail you like that again.”
I pushed into him a bit with my shoulder. “You saw what I needed you to see. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go get your wound cleaned up.”
“It’s a shame though, I really liked this dress.”
Chapter 6
The tension in the palace was palpable this morning. Devlyn felt incredibly guilty that a weapon had passed his searches. He swore up and down he didn’t know how the blade had slipped past his men. Mother wasn’t really blaming him, but I understood his remorse.
Meanwhile, the servants were in a frenzy with preparations for the meal Mother was to host tonight. I watched as each rushed through their morning chores and scrambled about tidying up. We didn’t often see new servants around the palace. My family had a reputation for paying our staff well, and we made a point to treat them all kindly. A lot of our servants were long term and, in many cases, had been hired from once employed families—when vacancies allowed, anyway.
The affair was to be fairly private, so Mother was hardly concerned about perfection. I couldn’t argue with the results, nonetheless. Courtesy of the pressure the servants had placed on themselves, the dining hall had been cleaned three times, floor to ceiling. The long wooden table was laid with the finest cloth and porcelain, and the chair cushions were plumped and brushed until their amethyst fabric shone—even the extra chairs along the walls had been attended. The scent that floated out from the kitchens had my stomach growling violently.
Despite Mother’s reprimands, I was sitting in one of the window seats in the dining room, knees folded to my chest. My riding boots rested rebelliously on the cushion under me. She hadn’t commented on my appearance when she’d caught me in the hall not minutes before. I couldn’t decide if she wanted to avoid the argument, or if she was somewhat used to my strange uniform. There was something about the light tan trousers and oversized white shirt, half tucked at the waist, that felt so safe. Comfortable.
Improper, she’d say.
I knew, though, that it was unlikely anyone would wander into the dining hall before the evening meal, especially since Mother and the other royals had eaten breakfast long before I’d woken.
“You simply had to read that book this morning, huh?” Jyn broke through my thoughts, and I glanced up.
His eyes were locked onto the volume that lay spine-up across my knee. He had wanted to go riding—as we usually did when we had a free morning—but I had protested because I wanted to finish the book I’d uncovered in the library two days prior.
“I am reading.” I picked up the thick tome and covered my face, peeking out over the top in time to catch him roll his eyes. One of the servants had managed to coerce him into moving furniture and polishing silverware, and I knew he would pounce the second I gave him a reason to escape. Especially today, when he’d been reluctant to let me out of his sight long enough to bathe. All the guards were on edge though—rarely did anyone bother us and at least a decade had passed since anyone had managed to get into the palace with intent to harm.
I really had intended to read. The book certainly caught my interest enough—the story was about an artist who fell in love with the lord of night—but my seat was the perfect vantage point and everything else drew my attention. The servants who nervously flicked glances in my direction. The butterflies that trailed the gardens, their yellow and black wings fluttering against the gentle wind. The guards changing through the daily rotation at the top of the wall.
A gardener waved when he noticed me, his smile bright as he clipped flowers for around the palace. Our gardens stretched all the way from the courtyard wall to the open lawn at the back of the palace, with stone walkways twining throughout. Far out of sight were the archery targets and across the way, in the far corner of the grounds, was the cottage reserved for the Court Enchantress.
Meryn held that title officially, but at this point the name was more formality than necessity. Her father had actually served my mother—she’d been gifted magical talents years prior and had never received formal training. From what I understood, he had simply shown up, offering his services. Meryn had been eight, same as me. I didn’t know the whole story. He had passed when Meryn was still fairly young, and Mother had asked the Council to let Meryn stay on. The Council was far less inclined to argue with a nature witch if the situation could be avoided and, since the arrangement was mutually beneficial, Meryn had never been bothered.
Mother had tried to adopt my friend outright. She had always been like a sister to me anyway, so it made sense, but Meryn refused, claiming she didn’t want to be a burden. Even as young as she’d been when her father passed, she had always been mature for her age. I couldn’t remember a time that she’d ever accepted food or clothing charitably from us, insisting instead on working with the healers whenever she needed to borrow anything.
A loud creak split the silence of the room. I jumped, and my book fell to the floor from the loose grip of my hand. Servants never used the main doors and both had swung open. I was a bit less surprised when I saw Lucian stride through.
I raised an eyebrow. His own rose to match as his eyes traced my attire but his lips curved into a playful smile.
“Are you trying to hide or not be found in t
hose?”
I didn’t flinch, merely lifted my shoulders. “These are comfortable.”
The doors dropped closed of their own accord as Lucian made his way to my side. His thumbs were hooked loosely into his waistline. I didn’t miss the pause of Jyn’s hands on one of the ceramic dishes, or the glance Lucian shot him.
“Fair enough. Show me around?”
I looked to Jyn, the question plain on my face. He frowned and motioned to the dagger tucked casually into Lucian’s boot. I nodded to the prince, gesturing at Jyn. “Sure. Jyn will have to come too.”
The doors to the dining hall groaned open again, and Mother stepped through with a servant close at her side. Lucian dropped into a bow.
“Prince Lucian, I didn’t expect to find you here,” she said. Amusement danced across her smile.
“I was merely seeing if your daughter would do me the honor of showing me around.”
“Natylia, you were being hospitable to our guest, yes?”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the window. “Yes, Mother, Jyn and I are going to show him around.”
Mother’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m sure you can leave Jyn here. He seems to be making himself quite useful.”
“After what happened last night?” I asked. “Do you really feel that’s wise?”
“Lucian is perfectly capable of protecting you if a situation were to arise. Besides, Devlyn doubled the guard presence again. A short tour of the palace and grounds will do no harm.”
I frowned and glanced at Jyn. He clenched a fist at his side but threw his other hand up in defeat.
“Mother, I don’t go anywhere without Jyn.”
“You will today.”
“I don’t mind Jyn’s presence,” Lucian said gently.
Mother cleared her throat. “Time apart will be good for them. Now, shoo.”
She smiled with the last words, a strained, haughty grin. I clenched my jaw but spun myself off my cushioned perch and dropped to my feet. I jabbed my chin in the direction of the door and paused my steps only long enough to make sure that Lucian followed. Jyn shot a glance in my direction—caution, and concern. I lifted the fingers that trailed at my side in a small acknowledgment, a swift gesture that only his eyes would catch.
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