by Kaylin Lee
“Father’s sentencing hour was today,” Jade announced when we sat.
As though any of us needed the reminder. I sipped my coffee and tried not to grimace as the strong taste burned my tongue.
“More cream for me,” Kaia murmured, setting her mug back on the coffee table.
Jade pulled out a letter and set it on the coffee table between us. “I got the notice from the Ministry of Justice today, while Belle was at the market.”
Kaia stiffened and eyed the paper like it was a snake, ready to strike. “And?”
I grabbed the letter and scanned it. “Guilty.” I released a breath. “Our testimonies worked.”
Kaia collapsed against the back of the sofa, shutting her eyes. I grabbed one of her hands, and Jade grabbed the other. I squeezed Kaia’s hand and offered Jade a small smile, which she returned.
“We did it,” Jade said quietly.
Jade released Kaia’s hand and drew another folded paper from her pocket. “This came just after the Ministry of Justice’s notice,” she said slyly. “Post-marked from the royal palace, addressed to darling Belle.”
I sat straight up. “Give it here.”
“Only if you tell us what’s in it.” She dangled it in the air for a moment, then dropped it onto my lap.
The letter was short, a few sparse lines scrawled with a familiar masculine hand.
“Well? What does it say?” Kaia leaned over my shoulder.
“Prince Estevan is holding a meeting with the Asylian press,” I said slowly. “Some kind of big announcement. And he wants me to be there in person.”
Chapter 36
The throne room was impossibly full. I slipped through the door and wove my way through the back of the crowd, keeping my hat on and my head down. I didn’t want to speak to the press about my father’s sentencing if I could help it.
I found an unobtrusive corner with a view of the throne and hovered there, feeling uncertain. Why had Estevan wanted me here? I’d left the palace the moment we’d confirmed that Estevan was free of aurae and would recover fully, and I hadn’t seen him since.
I still wasn’t ready to face him.
But he was the Crown Prince. He was the leader our city needed, and I’d risked my life to save his. If he needed me present at this announcement, I’d find a way to put aside my broken heart to be there.
The crowd murmured, wild speculations about Estevan’s announcement tossed between waiting journalists from the Asylian Herald, the Procus Ladies’ Journal, Trade & Commerce, and more. I recognized most of them from our interactions at the bank. I tugged my hat lower and hoped they would be too distracted by Prince Estevan to recognize me.
“Lady Belle?” A man whispered beside me.
I whirled and glared at him, then realized it was Cole. “It’s Mistress Belle now,” I corrected with a smile. “Keep your voice down, would you?”
Cole bowed. “My apologies, my lady. I mean, mistress.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It’s fine. Took some getting used to for me, too. It’s been quite an interesting two weeks.”
“I imagine it has,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I thought you might be here. I was hoping to find you.”
“Oh?” Why did he look so uncomfortable?
“Yes.” He cleared his throat again, then dug his hand into his uniform pocket and drew out a plain, silver chain with a charm shaped like an arrow. “This is a Sentinel’s token,” he said, his voice oddly tense. “I mean, it’s my token. And I was wondering if … if you … if you would like it.”
“Um … maybe? What is it?” He was behaving quite strangely.
“It’s a sign of affection.” His tan cheeks went bright red. “My affection, that is. And … ah … courtship.”
My mouth dropped open. I glanced away to give myself a moment to gather my thoughts, and my gaze landed across the room on the familiar, stony face of Estevan, who stood just inside the narrow door behind the throne, poised to enter the room. His gaze swept over me and then Cole, and his expression darkened. Then a tall man from the Journal of Arts stepped in front of me, breaking the connection between us, and I turned back to Cole.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “There’s only one man for me. Always has been. Maybe always will be. I don’t know what else to say.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. “I understand. It’s just … you’re so beautiful, and …”
I smiled. “Thank you, Cole. But if you think I’m beautiful, you should meet my sisters.”
He mumbled an excuse and left me in the crowd, but not before I saw the flash of interest on his face. I laughed under my breath and shook my head. What would my sisters say if I invited him to call on our new home?
A man called out, “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Estevan.”
The entire room knelt as Estevan entered and went to the throne. “Rise,” he said coolly.
I stood up and realized that Estevan had not yet taken the throne. He stood before it, his spine straight, and another man followed Estevan onto the podium to stand beside him. What was Lord Falconus, my father’s closest rival, doing with the prince?
Estevan’s gaze swept across the room, landing on me for a moment and then skidding away, as though he was unwilling to make eye contact again. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me today.” His expression was inscrutable. “We have several major announcements, and I thought I’d make all our lives easier by issuing them all at once.
“First, you have heard that Lord Basil Argentarius and his heir, Lucas, have confessed to smuggling aurae, which Argentarius procured from the Wolf clan of Draicia. Argentarius and his son have been stripped of their titles and sentenced to death. The Wolf clan delegation has been escorted to the city gates and will not be welcomed back. Needless to say, we will not be accepting their offer of an alternative to aurae. With the primary smuggling channel cut off, and nearly one hundred smugglers involved in the operation now detained, I am confident that aurae will soon disappear from Asylia, without any need for an alternative.
“Second, I am pleased to announce the official completion of much-needed changes to the Asylian mage employment law. As you leave today, you’ll each receive booklets with the new legal code at the door. From this day on, Asylian mages are considered equal to common citizens under the law, and free to pursue work of any kind, including commercial ventures in the Merchant Quarter.” His expression grew severe. “It is hereby forbidden, by royal decree, to control a mage with their True Name. Every mage will be instructed on how to resist True Name control, and anyone who seeks to wield a mage’s power against their will shall be considered an enemy of the Crown.”
The room was so quiet, I could hear my own heartbeat. No one dared move. What would the Court of Lords do? How would Lord Falconus react to Estevan’s proclamation?
Estevan met my eyes again, looking oddly uncertain. I raised a questioning eyebrow, but he glanced away. Silence reigned. The journalists packed in beside me began to shift restlessly.
Finally, Estevan drew in a deep breath, looking out over the room with a sober expression. “Since the founding of our great city, we have cherished a love of power.”
I frowned. What a was he doing?
“The power of wealth,” he continued. “The power of mages. The power of the founding families. And the power of the royal kingship.”
He fell silent again, his gaze glancing off me one more time before he focused on the crowd. My stomach twisted at his obvious disquiet. What had I missed since I left the palace?
“‘For the love of power, a man will lose his soul.’” Estevan’s deep voice was grave.
My breath caught at the familiar quote.
“We’ve seen this in kings past,” Estevan said, “and we’ve seen it today, with the tragic corruption of one of the city’s most respected patriarchs.” Estevan placed one hand on Lord Falconus’ shoulder. “I have profound respect for those Procus lords willing to do the opposite—to loosen their grip on power
for the sake of the mages who have served our city so faithfully,” he said. “And I am determined to match their generosity with my own. From this day forth, by royal decree, the Asylian kingship is abolished.”
Shocked, noisy whispers rushed through the crowd.
Estevan raised his voice. “Asylia will be a city of shared power, ruled by a Crown Prince working together with the Court of Lords to serve and protect our city.”
Estevan turned to Lord Falconus, who bowed low, then straightened and took Estevan’s offered hand to shake it. There was a smattering of hesitant applause, and then the room began to buzz with questions and whispers. “That is all for today,” Estevan said. “My staff will answer any questions you may have.”
He stepped down from the throne’s platform and the crowd hurried to kneel as he strode through the room and disappeared through the single door at the back. Two men from his cabinet stood up at the front of the room, and the press began to shout out questions.
“My lady?” A man touched my arm. Tolos, Estevan’s steward.
“It’s just mistress,” I murmured, still reeling from Estevan’s announcement.
“His Royal Highness has requested your presence,” Tolos said. “If you would come with me?”
I nodded numbly, and he led me to an unassuming door further down the hallway, tapping once.
“Enter.”
My skin prickled at Estevan’s familiar, deep voice.
The steward opened the door and gestured for me to enter. My heart pounding, I stepped into the room, and he closed the door behind me.
Estevan stood at the center, his crisp suit jacket tossed onto a leather chair, his collar rumpled, and his hair mussed as though he’d run his hands through it the moment he’d left the throne room. “Belle,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”
“You surrendered the kingship?” I planted my hands on my hips. “You’ve given the Procus lords everything they’ve ever wanted!”
Estevan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did my best Sentinel just ask permission to court you?”
I started at the abrupt question. “What?”
“He did, didn’t he?” Estevan scowled, then heaved a sigh. “What did you tell him?”
Heat from the suffio in the hearth was making my head hot and itchy. I drew off my hat and rubbed at my temple. “He did, but I declined.”
Estevan released a breath. “Oh.”
The room was silent for a long, tense moment.
“Why?” I shook my head. “We finally stopped my father, and then you went and gave up the kingship?”
Estevan’s lips tilted up in a slight smile. “I would have thought that was obvious.”
I rolled my eyes at his familiar smirk. “Enlighten me anyway.”
“It was the only way to get the lords to fully pass the mage regulations,” he said. “For hundreds of years, the Procus families have controlled nearly all the magic in Asylia. I realized I was asking them to give up much of their power. The Procus lords weren’t just greedy—they were terrified. But when Falconus learned that I was willing to surrender some of my own power and rule in collaboration with the Procus lords, he was convinced we could work together. And he convinced the others to accept my proposal.”
“But I thought you wanted nothing more than to be king. Surely, you could have found a way to—”
He shook his head resolutely. “When I recovered from your father’s aurae, it occurred to me that the worst curse on my rulership wasn’t my father’s last decree. It was the kingship itself. After seeing what absolute power had done to my father and yours—their violence, corruption, and paranoia—how could I claim to be different? I pursued power with just as much hunger as they did.”
I twisted my hat, squeezing it tight. “But I thought you wanted—”
“I want many things more than I want to be king,” he said quietly, stepping closer to me. “I want the city to thrive. I want mages to be free.” He stopped just a hand’s breadth away from me. “I want to be with you.”
My mouth went dry. “You said you didn’t.”
“I was a fool.”
I laughed humorlessly. “You broke my heart.”
“I was a fool,” he repeated. He gripped my hands with his. “I hated my father’s final decree that I needed a Fenra wife to become king. I thought it meant I was weak—that the whole city knew I was insufficient on my own. Then I got to know you. I fell in love with you. And I realized how much I really need you, not to become king, but for everything. To talk with, to laugh with, to be my friend, my ally.” His lips tilted up to one side. “To be my Crown Princess.” He drew one hand up to his chest and closed it in a fist over his heart.
I shivered at the traditional movement. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I do,” he said simply. “And I should have done it from the start.”
My heart pounded so hard, it shook my body.
“Belle, my heart is yours.” He met my eyes, his gaze so full of emotion and hunger that my mouth went dry. “My life is yours. Will you be my wife?”
There was no magic in the ancient Fenra words of promise, but in that moment, they held more power than anything I’d ever experienced.
I reached up and put one hand on his fist, then moved my hand to his collar and pulled his head down so I could press my lips against his.
“Is this a yes?” he murmured against my lips.
I kissed him again as he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me into the air. “You don’t mind marrying a simple, common merchant like me?”
He spun me around and then nuzzled my neck, pressing a kiss just beneath my ear. “You don’t mind marrying a beast?”
I leaned back just enough to look him in the eyes. “To be honest, I’m a bit of a beast myself.”
He frowned. “You’re perfect.”
“I should have come to you for help years ago,” I whispered. “I had more faith in my father’s power than in anyone else. And because of that, the city was nearly lost.”
Estevan shook his head and set me down. “Enough of that. You were stronger and braver than anyone else would have been in your shoes, Belle.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “You’re more than this city deserves.” Then his smile faded, and he raised an eyebrow. “That is, if your answer is yes? I’ll lose my mind if you decline one more of my marriage proposals.”
I lifted his hands and kissed them, as I had in his office that day. “Yes.”
The word had never tasted so sweet.
Epilogue
“You make a beautiful servant girl.”
I spun away from the small mirror in Estevan’s office and burst out laughing. “Estevan! You startled me.”
He drew himself up to his full height and snapped the straps of his suspenders. “Admit it. You didn't recognize me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Andres did an excellent job with your disguise, but you are still far too … noticeable.”
Estevan's lips tilted into a cocky smile. “Noticeable, huh?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I take it you like me as a gardener?”
I pursed my lips as heat flooded my cheeks. “You look fine.”
He raised an eyebrow.
My feet moved me forward, drawn to him like magnets, as always. I ran one hand over the thin, common fabric of his dark-green laborer’s shirt, enjoying the feel of his solid torso beneath it. “You look good.”
Estevan bent his head closer to mine. “Just good?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
I looked up and smiled at the sight of my tall, handsome prince disguised as a tall, handsome commoner. “You look perfect.”
He bent to kiss me, but I stopped him with one finger on his lips. “If we don't get moving, we’ll be late to Ella and Weslan’s wedding. I promised we’d be there.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm instead. “You’re the one who can’t take your eyes off me.”
My laugh sounded embarrassingly breathless.
; Estevan smiled and pulled me closer. “We’ll leave in just a moment. Although I highly doubt anyone in the Common Quarter will be fooled by our—”
“Your Majesty!” Tolos stumbled through the open door to Estevan's office. “I told her to wait until you returned from the celebration, but—”
An elderly woman in a wrinkled, gray dress pushed past Estevan's steward with surprising force and marched into the room. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Her lined face was etched with fear. “I had to see you.”
The humor faded from Estevan's face in an instant. “It's fine, Tolos.” He pulled me to his side. “Belle, this is Mistress Contos, owner of the Asylian Herald and an old friend of mine. Mistress Contos, this is my future wife, Belle Argentarius. Now … what is it?”
“My granddaughter, Ruby. I haven't seen her in two months, and now …” She trailed off.
Estevan frowned. “Two months? Ruby just wrote that aurae story three weeks ago.”
Mistress Contos shook her head. “She’s been in Draicia, Your Highness. We had contact with a man from the Wolf clan who wanted to expose his clan's involvement in something dark. He begged me to send a reporter, so I … I sent my Ruby. She’s the best we have.” She looked from Estevan to me, as though defending her choice, but the tears welling in her eyes betrayed her defiant expression.
“I know she is,” Estevan said soberly. “I’m sure Ruby will return as soon as she can.”
The weight of his words seemed to sink in the air around us. I thought of the five intimidating men who’d gathered defiantly before Estevan’s throne weeks earlier. Could Ruby handle the Wolves, even if she was as competent as her grandmother claimed?
“That’s just it. When she sent me that article, I thought she'd come back immediately. It was the entire purpose of her trip.” Mistress Contos’ confidence seemed to wither away with her next breath. “But she didn’t come back. I’ve heard nothing from her for three weeks, and then today, I got this.” She pulled a worn slip of paper from her ink-stained work dress, then held it out with a shaking hand. “Our Draician courier found this note in the spot we’d designated for her messages.”