I pulled my skirts closer to me and stared the woman down. She stepped away one pace, a hint of fear in her eyes. I took a breath to make sure my voice was steady.
“You will address my attendant with the respect she deserves. You may finish, or I’ll go as I am.”
“Of course, Princess,” she mumbled, unwilling to directly disobey my orders. They laced the silver chain back into place and checked the hem one last time before gathering their things and scurrying into the hall.
An ache bloomed behind my eyes, and my legs shook under the added weight of the skirts. “Could you dismiss everyone else as well?” I asked Aleinn in a faint voice. “They can return once the dance has begun.”
Aleinn shooed everyone else out, and finally my chambers were calm. I brushed a dressing robe aside and eased into a chair near the blazing fireplace, careful not to slouch—not that I could. My thoughts flew over what had happened, and the feeling that had dissipated so quickly.
“Jennesara, are you well?” Aleinn glanced at my braid and fidgeted with her skirt.
I brushed my hair over my shoulder and steadied my voice. “I’m fine. Just a little nervous, I suppose.”
“I…” She swallowed, and I hated that her eyes stayed on the floor at my feet. “I’m sorry for pushing. I thought perhaps Lord Cris might—”
“I’m going to Turia because my father signed a betrothal agreement with the prince heir,” I blurted out. I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. The fire crackled in the silence. When I could finally meet Aleinn’s eyes, they were laced with pity. “It’s for the best,” I added in a whisper, the clamp over my heart tightening.
“The best for who?” she asked, her hands folded in front of her, her voice so gentle it made me want to cry.
My lips twisted as I tamped down the pain of my father’s deception. “For everyone.” I sniffed and stood a little too fast, making my head spin. “I’ll arrange my hair more suitably and make sure the jewels aren’t covered,” I said. A dismissal.
She walked to the door and paused. “Princess, I didn’t mean to…”
I fiddled with the end of my braid, a sad smile lifting one side of my lips. “I know.”
* * *
The sky slid from pink to purple to black as I stood at the tiny slit of a window in the sitting room of my chambers between two open trunks, their contents spilling out. The ball would start soon, followed by the announcement. I’d leave in the morning. And nothing would ever be the same.
For once, I looked the part of a princess, in my midnight-blue and silver confection. Sparkling glass beads trailed the seams of the bodice, and the snowy-white blouse underneath was of the finest linen, with flowing sleeves and long cuffs at my wrists. The traditional navy-blue medallions with the royal sword and shield engraved on them were pinned to the fabric just under my collarbone, and three strands of sparkling sapphires were strung between the medallions.
My hair ran in an elaborate plait from one temple to the opposite ear, with the long tail pinned up. By the time I placed the unadorned silver circlet on my head, I didn’t look like myself. I didn’t feel like myself.
The tethers called to me, but I dismissed my brother’s and father’s, instead focusing on a third. I ached for my mother, and even though what was left of her tether wasn’t much, I treasured it.
I didn’t have many memories of her, but I still remembered feeling her tether break, though I was only three. After a week of travel, we’d played in the frigid ocean in Osta, her hometown, the last morning before we left for Hálenborg. The white cliffs had sparkled as much as the sun glinting off the waves, and the seabirds dove in and out of the water, their silver-tipped wings slicing through the air.
Halfway to home, we set up our tents. The moon was high when I awoke with a terrible feeling. Messengers came and went through the night, trying to find a healer, as my mother’s health rapidly declined without warning. Her maids banned me from her tent, for fear I’d catch the mysterious illness myself, so I snuck around the back. If I could just see that she was okay, I thought, maybe the strange feeling inside me would go away.
I peeked through the canvas and saw her lying on a bed of pillows, her face ashen, deep purple rings beneath her eyes, her golden hair fanned out around her. I crept in and curled next to her. She’d brushed her hand weakly over my hair then and made me promise to hide the white streak.
I watched over her all night, helpless against the sickness within her. Minutes before dawn, the delicate tether connecting us snapped, and she was gone. I’d wailed at the pain I felt. I was confused, alone. The servants assumed I was distraught because my mother was gone. But it was the snapped tether causing my cries, an injury I couldn’t understand.
The broken thread lay deep within me even now, like a torn pennant over an empty battlefield, reminding me of an emptiness that used to be full. Reminding me of how it felt to lose someone I loved.
A tap at my door brought my focus back.
“Enter,” I called, knowing who was waiting in the hall.
My father came in and stood next to the chair by the fire, his hands behind his back. I watched the stars brighten the dark sky.
The silence lengthened between us, but I didn’t push his tether away like I usually did. In the stillness, his emotions settled into the deep ache of longing. Beneath the weight of his kingdom, his steel and harsh angles, he was a man who desperately missed his wife. I looked more like her now than ever, and he was about to say goodbye to me, too. I didn’t speak; I couldn’t. I understood him more in that moment than I had in years.
“I have a present for you.” He held out a long bundle wrapped in silk so fine it flowed like water.
I stared at him, wishing things could be different, that I could stay. “A present?”
“With the fighting moving deeper into our borders, I need to know you will be safe crossing into Turia—”
“Because sending Ren and General Leland wasn’t enough?” I said as I came to stand in front of him.
His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I had these pulled from the treasury for you.”
He settled the bundle on the sofa in front of us and pulled one side of the faded cloth away, then the other. An old sword sheathed in a tattered brown scabbard lay within. My eyes landed on the hilt. A clear blue stone embedded in the cross guard emitted a soft glow.
My father carefully unsheathed the sword, and the chaotic mounds of unpacked clothes around us faded away. The steel-blue blade wasn’t overly long, and was so intricately etched it looked almost as if it were made of stone. Ancient leather strips wrapped the hilt. Tied to one of the leather strips was a ring, with a smaller version of the stone from the sword and the same intricate carvings.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” I tentatively put my hand out, silently asking my father for permission.
He nodded, a hint of a smile in his eyes.
I gripped the sword by the hilt. It was lighter than I expected, but perfectly balanced. I drew the blade closer so I could inspect the markings. The blue stone seemed to brighten, but the heat in my hand as I hefted the weight distracted me from the light. I stepped back and swung the sword a few times, as best I could in my dress. It felt like no sword I had ever wielded—it was almost an extension of my arm.
“And the ring, Jennesara.” My father slid it onto the middle finger of my left hand. Something like a lightning bolt raced up my arm and into my chest.
My brow furrowed at the perfect fit, and my father chuckled.
“What are these gifts, Father?”
He nodded toward the sword, hands clasped behind his back again. “They are ancient artifacts passed down through the line of kings. These particular pieces are rumored to have belonged to Kais.”
My eyes widened, and I gripped the gift tighter. The first king of Hálendi h
ad been a powerful enough mage to enchant the border between Hálendi and the Ice Deserts. These were his? What else was hidden in the treasury?
He pointed out the engravings running the length of the blade. “These runes tell of the powers this instrument yields. Here at the tip, swiftness and power to strike true.” My father’s finger trailed down the markings toward the hilt. “These speak of destruction, of protection when wielded by one in the line of Hálendian kings.”
My father took my left hand and held the ring up between us. “This can absorb and store magic. The sword can then wield that energy.”
“The magic is in North Watch, though, not in Turia. Why not send these with Ren?”
My father sighed and…did he glance at my hair? “The Medallion of Sight will be enough for him. Besides, I gave these to your mother when we were wed. She would want you to have them.”
My thoughts jumped and tumbled over each other as I tried to take in the revelation, as I pulled the sword closer to my body. I took a breath and a leap of courage. “Mother could wield magic with this?”
He let my hand drop, his sadness raining against me through the tethers. His eyes grew distant. “She wore them always, but there was no opportunity for her to harness magic. But you—” He swallowed, and his nervous energy had my fingers tapping against my leg. “You can.”
My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear him. “I can…what?”
He sighed. Glanced back at the door. “I know, Jennesara.” He touched the white streak in his hair. My lips parted, and I almost choked.
“All this time?” I whispered.
He didn’t smile, but his expression softened. “I’m your father. Of course I knew.”
“But…” My mind ground to a halt. “You kept me here. I thought you’d have to banish me if—”
“I’d never.”
He sat on the chair behind him as though his legs couldn’t bear the weight of his words. Because he sort of was banishing me.
“I kept you from learning about magic to protect you,” he said. “Kept you close so rumors wouldn’t spread. It maybe wasn’t the best way to keep you safe, but it was all I could do.” He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled. “I’m proud of you. You are a daughter of Hálendi, and you will bring us honor in Turia.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Years of memories shifted in my mind, changing him from an overbearing, strict man trying to control me to a father desperate to protect me.
I sheathed the blade, then threw my arms around him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For the gift.”
He embraced me tight, and I inhaled his scent, which reminded me of childhood, of safety, of strength. He held me at arm’s length.
My mouth opened and closed, and I laughed a little. “Tell me everything.”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he gestured to the sofa so we could sit comfortably.
“I don’t think we’ll have time to cover quite that much,” he said, and I shook my head, remembering the dance. The betrothal. But he continued speaking, and all other thoughts fled. “What’s most important, though, is that everything has a force within it that makes it what it is, whether it be person, animal, or element. This energy, this life force, has always existed in our world. It has from the beginning and will until the end. It cannot be created or destroyed, but it can be manipulated.”
I leaned forward, eager to learn about this after a lifetime of being forbidden. “And this ‘energy’ is magic?”
“Those who are said to have ‘magic,’ as it is termed, are simply those who possess the ability to manipulate the energies around them. Everyone experiences magic differently, and it is up to you to learn how you can harness it. Usually, but not always, one type of life force connects with your magic more than others.”
So even if my father had told me he knew of my magic before now, it wasn’t as if he could have told me how to coax it out and test its potential. That would have had to be done on my own. I’d asked Ren once, when we were younger, how he learned magic, and he’d tried to describe it then, but I hadn’t understood. I thought he’d been keeping it from me on purpose, but perhaps it was too personal to really be able to share.
I fingered the leather strips on the hilt. I couldn’t move mountains or heal someone. Were the tethers even magic? Or just a curse?
“I—” I swallowed, not sure I could force the words out after keeping them inside for so long. “My magic is different than that,” I said, and my father leaned forward, hands on his knees. “I can sense emotions. Not everyone’s,” I hurried to add. “Just yours and Ren’s. And Mother’s, when she was alive.”
He blinked, and his mouth hung open. Then he snapped it closed. “So all this time, you could…” I nodded, and he huffed out a sigh. “Well.” A slow smile started.
“Sorry?”
He shook his head and laughed a little, then folded his arms like he always did when he was pondering something. “It could be a remnant of Kais’s bond. He created a magical connection to his family so he could always know when they were in danger or needed protection. Perhaps you were meant to have this so you could stay close to us while in Turia.”
I nodded as he spoke, remembering times when Ren had been in trouble or my father particularly worried.
“Nothing else?” my father asked. “No other form of magic has manifested? Not moving earth or healing or…?”
I shook my head. “No, just the tethers. The bond. But maybe with this”—I held up the sword—“I’ll be able to do more.”
He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. These tools can only channel and store magic. There is no more and no less magic within you than there has always been.” He swallowed. “I should have prepared you more. I thought we’d contain the trouble at the border….”
My fingers traced the old scabbard and the blue stone. I couldn’t be disappointed about this. I wouldn’t. If I had to travel to Turia and leave everything behind, at least I’d be taking a piece of my mother with me.
He cleared his throat and stood, the mantle of king falling around his shoulders once again. “I hope you’ll never have to fight with these, but I need to know you’ll be safe on your way to Turia. Master Hafa will accompany you as your protector, and train you with your new weapon.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Ren, General Leland, Kais’s sword, and Master Hafa?”
His expression remained stoic, but his eyes sparkled. “You will be safe on your journey.” He held out his hand to help me stand, and I took it.
I tugged on a loose strip of leather on the hilt. “Can I wear it tonight?” I asked, holding the sword up a little.
“No,” he said immediately.
“It was worth a try,” I said as I tucked it under the sofa cushion, where I stored my other sword.
He held out his elbow and I slipped my hand through.
He paused before he opened the door. “You look beautiful tonight, Jennesara,” he said, and with a sad smile he led me toward my last Hálendian celebration.
* * *
The ballroom was the most ornate room in the austere castle, with a large fireplace at either end, elaborate silver sconces along the wall, and a gray marble floor with silver and navy veins.
The glittering lights, cascading music, and swirling gowns paired with charcoal-gray double-buttoned coats counted down my last night in Hálendi. My last night home.
I usually avoided anything that involved courtiers scrutinizing me and finding me lacking, but tonight I would show my people who I was. That I was loyal to my brother and to Hálendi. The work the seamstresses did was worth it, given the approving looks I received from even the most judgmental nobles.
As always, Ren looked stately in his navy coat with the band collar and two rows of silver buttons marching down the front. He also had the traditional Hálendian m
edallions at his shoulders, three silver chains strung between them. Courtiers surrounded him the entire night—women in general, and Lady Isarr in particular—but every now and then, he’d catch my eye and his admiration and pride burned in the tethers.
Time both stretched interminably and flew by. I longed to catch Cris’s eye. Even if only for one dance, I wanted one memory I could hold on to from my last night home. But he always seemed to be on the far side of the room as I was swept up by one courtier after another.
My taut neck ached as much as my feet by the time my father signaled me off the dance floor for the announcement. Ren met me on my way to the dais, with a brief brush of his fingers to his chin before his hand was at my back. Chin up, Jenna. I nodded in acknowledgment, my brother’s words repeating in my mind as my father rose from his seat and Ren took his place at our father’s right. All eyes turned to the dais, and conversations died in every corner of the room.
“Tonight, we celebrate the seventeenth year of my beloved daughter, Jennesara.” My father looked down, his hard features softening in the flickering candlelight.
Everyone clapped politely. Whispers filtered through the room. I straightened my shoulders under the scrutiny and took a deep breath, willing my nervousness to calm. I could not—would not—show any weakness.
I studied faces, wishing I could pick out the person my father shouldn’t trust. Wishing my bond, my magic, could ferret out the traitor in our midst.
“It is also my great joy to announce a new opportunity for Hálendi, one that will further bolster our great nation in these trying times.”
The whispers that had started died out.
“I am proud and pleased to announce the betrothal of my daughter, Princess Jennesara of Hálendi, to Prince Enzo of Turia.”
There was a breath of silence, a swell of anticipation before the wave crashed into exclamations and whispered conversations. My eyes snapped to Cris, standing next to a beautiful courtier. His jaw was tight, and he wore a slight frown.
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