I couldn’t help my laughter, and the shop owner rushed us as soon as Castillo let the door close behind him. “Thank you for coming, Your Majesty,” he gushed. “Right this way.”
He hurried away as I gaped at Castillo. “Your Majesty?”
“I rather like it,” he said. “Don’t spoil this for me, Echo. He need not know he has the bastard de la Fuenta in his shop.” Castillo’s charming smile was the only convincing I needed.
#
I licked the last of the mint ice cream Castillo and I had made from my spoon. I’d only crushed my finger once while pounding the mint leaves, and only a little of the mixture had splattered my dress.
Castillo, of course, hadn’t injured himself, nor had he soiled his clothing. He was almost too perfect in his grace and sophistication. I thought he might be playing his part of a prince a bit too well for the sake of the confectioner.
We exited the shop to a sky full of stars and the coolness of darkness. The closest lamp lay thirty feet to my right.
“Had I known we were going to be cooking, I would have worn something more casual,” I said as I moved toward the orange light. Castillo followed, catching me quickly and lacing his arm through mine.
“Did you enjoy your time outside the compound?”
“So far,” I said. “I’ll never look at ice cream the same.”
“Let’s not go back so soon,” he said. “I know a park on the next lane. Perhaps you’re not tired of roses yet?”
“Never.” I allowed him to lead me to the park, the fragrance there immediately bringing images of Olive to mind. Every arrangement she made had at least one rose. They were her favorite flower.
Despite missing my sister, I’d never felt so normal as I did strolling with Castillo down the streets of Umon. His soft voice kept the conversation going, and though he spoke of procedures and policies, I didn’t find the topics boring. I noticed other couples in the streets, other girls in fine dresses, other men leaning in close to speak. Life beyond the compound continued, something I’d forgotten.
Once we found a bench, Castillo let the conversation die. I knew he wouldn’t initiate the one we needed to have, so I steeled myself to speak. “Tell me why you and Cris are here, in Umon.”
“Cris is searching for the perfect bride to please our father.” Castillo stretched his legs out and leaned back. “Someone who can make him the most powerful ruler in the land. He believes it might be you—and I do, too. I knew you wouldn’t know about the bride-choosing ceremony, and I knew you needed to be here. So yes, I filled out your application. I made sure you were selected, and I made sure you knew nothing until the night of the opening dinner.”
The intricacy of planning such details spun through my mind. His actions testified of his beliefs—and I held my magic tight, determined not to release my power inside the compound again.
“Gibson will try to force you to reveal the range of your abilities,” Castillo continued as if he knew I was gathering my magic closer. “He’ll do whatever it takes to know for certain, for he won’t allow the High King to take chances with who Cris chooses.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Will you do whatever it takes to make sure I’m chosen?”
Castillo placed his hand on my arm and squeezed gently. “Like I said, simply ask. I’ll tell you.”
I nodded and steadied myself by taking a deep breath. “Why are you here, Castillo?”
“I’m here to make sure that Cris gets what he wants, yet fails to become the greatest ruler in this land.”
I thought on his words, but they didn’t make sense. “How?”
Castillo picked at his fingernails.
She will be chosen, warped through my mind in Helena’s voice. You must be sure to assign Matu as her guard.
“You want me to marry him,” I mused. “You want me to become his all-powerful princess so that he succeeds in pleasing his father. And then . . . ” I squeezed my eyes closed as I tried to riddle it out.
“I don’t wish to see Cris suffer through any more pain,” Castillo said, not really telling me what I wanted to know. “He’s one of my oldest friends, and I would do anything for him. Our father is a wicked, cruel man, and I will not watch Cris take any more abuse from him.” He spoke with extreme conviction. I felt his magic begin to stir inside his core, but he subdued it.
“So if you marry him and he succeeds in proving to our father that he can be the type of king that Nyth needs, I won’t have to stand by while Cris suffers further torment. But he cannot become High King.”
“That’s quite the conundrum.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to understand. “You want him to be worthy to be King, but not actually become King.”
“Exactly.”
I looked openly at him. “Then who would rule Nyth?”
Even through the shadowy night, I saw the answer flicker across his face, flame to life in his eyes.
“Oh, no. I cannot rule Nyth!” I sprang to my feet and paced away from the bench. This park was quite deserted, something which only made my stomach writhe with greater intensity. Though I’d hoped to infuse goodness back into magic, as the ancient magicians of Relina had done, ruling Nyth had never crossed my mind.
“I’m a seamstress from Iskadar, a tiny farming village on the eastern edge of a land that has long opposed Nyth and her practices. I wasn’t born to be a queen, and certainly not their queen.”
“But you were,” Castillo said, his voice husky and fervent. He stood and placed both hands on my shoulders to stop me from moving. “You were. Cris suspects as much, and I’ve seen it.”
“Why did you come here?” My lower lip shook and my skin felt clammy.
“We came here because of the prophecy. Someone predicted that Umon would birth a queen that could unseat my father and start a new royal bloodline. Pacify the gods of magic and the gods of man; someone who could bring harmony to both worlds.”
“Who predicted that?” I asked, though I already knew. “How do you know it’s me?”
Castillo pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. “Helena. And she’s never wrong in her predictions.”
My heart stuttered with the finality in his tone. My stomach felt too heavy, my feet too light. “Why did you not just whisk me away from my tower in the dead of night?”
“It takes time to plan something of this magnitude, Echo. First the application process. Acquiring the servants twelve girls require. The construction of the compound.”
“It’s all a hoax,” I said, making my thoughts a reality. “A carefully crafted lie so you could get me into the compound and Cris could choose me.”
“It was Cris’s idea,” Castillo said. “He’s desperate to please our father. There are many desperate to help him do so, as well as bring the right person to the position of power.”
“Many?” I asked, as the faces of my servants—of Lucia—radiated through my mind.
“Yes, many,” Castillo whispered, as if saying it too loud would make it worse. “Lucia, Greta, Helena—and a great deal of others.”
I pressed my face to his chest and found comfort in the steadiness of his heartbeat, unable to ask any more questions.
“I didn’t wish to lie to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but there were things that needed to be done first.” His breath warmed my ear as he dipped his mouth closer to it. “At some point, you’ll have to show Cris what you can do magically. Then we’ll all know.”
Except the other girls. I straightened and stepped out of Castillo’s comforting embrace. “I assume the other girls know nothing of this?”
“Nothing.”
“I will not watch those innocent girls get hurt,” I said, feeling very much the way I had when I’d declared the villagers free from paying the Prince’s taxes. Powerful. In control. “In any way.”
Castillo smiled, but it held only sadness. “Of course you won’t.”
“I’m serious, Castillo. What happens to the girls when they’re
dismissed?”
“I left those details to Cris.”
“You lie,” I said. “Cris doesn’t dictate how things go. You said I only needed to ask. I’m asking. What happens to the girls when they’re dismissed?”
Castillo moved away from me, as if the answer would require space. “Cris has tasked Gibson and Bo with their removal.”
“Removal?” My voice strayed into a higher pitch. I thought of Athe, and how she’d been sent home. “What does that mean?”
“I truly don’t know. I suspect Cris doesn’t either.”
“Then there will be no more cuts,” I said. “Bo and Gibson cannot be allowed to ‘remove’ anyone. The other girls must continue to believe this charade.”
He nodded his agreement, though the hardness in his eyes told me he wasn’t pleased at being ordered around.
“I won’t let the Prince use me as a pawn,” I said.
“We’re bonds now.” He stepped toward me again, his shoulders losing their stiffness and his mouth softening. “We can protect each other.”
Something cracked inside me from the intense way Castillo looked at me. His eyes held hunger and compassion at the same time. My heart raced. I wanted his arms around me again, wanted his lips to whisper that everything would be all right.
“Tell me what to do,” I said, forcing away the thought of his lips. “And I will do it.”
“Watch,” he said. “And wait. There will come a time to show Cris everything. And Echo.” He stepped close, close. “No one knows of our bond. Not even Cris. We need to keep it that way for as long as possible.”
Sixteen
I noticed Castillo cast a quick glance left, then right, as we re-entered the compound. I wondered whom he found lurking, because I could definitely feel someone’s watchful eyes. The air felt lodged in my throat, and Castillo’s confessions paraded through my mind.
I searched for the strength that had coursed through my body as I’d stood on the roof of the carriage. Had it really only been last week? There, the fight in my body had forced my mind to make quick decisions. My mouth had spoken with authority.
Inside the compound, the battle felt just as urgent. I didn’t have an angry mob with weapons brandished and torches burning. My life didn’t lie in immediate danger. But it was threatened nonetheless.
I drew a deep breath for strength. “Thank you for this evening.” My voice didn’t waver, much to my great relief. Castillo stood silently in front of the closed door to my suite, a steady strength behind me. I borrowed his courage. “Castillo, promise me one thing.”
“Anything, my raven-haired princess.” He twisted a stray lock of my hair around his finger and examined it. I felt as if I could ask him for the moon, and he’d retrieve it for me.
“I’m interested in knowing everything about you. Promise me there will be time for that.” Again, the boldness of my voice surprised me. My breath wisped out in shallow gasps, matching the pattering of my heart.
Shock traveled across his features, then regret, then something akin to joy, and finally sadness. “Perhaps,” was all he said.
“That’s not a promise,” I teased, trying to make light of the moment.
“It’s one I don’t know if I can keep,” he replied. “Though I’d like to very much. And I always keep my promises.”
I tightened my arm against his, then removed it. I stood on my tiptoes and embraced him. “Castillo—”
“I’d like to kiss you right now,” he whispered as my stomach swooped from the emotion in his voice. Or perhaps because of the twining of my magic with his. “I’d like to kiss you and never stop.” He broke the embrace and looked at me. The intensity in his eyes almost scared me. “But I’m afraid I will ruin Greta’s masterful work.”
“It’s already ruined.” I felt a mess, as I had such turmoil raging inside.
“Hardly.” He dipped his head toward mine, and I thought he would kiss me no matter what would be ruined. He pulled me closer and closer until an empty space couldn’t be found between us. His mouth bypassed mine and skated over my neck. A trail of heat accompanied his touch, sending fire through my system. My eyes drifted closed so I could capture the fresh smell of him and the feel of his lips against my throat.
“There,” he whispered. “Your face is still as perfect as always.”
I opened my eyes, feeling wobbly and weak. We studied each other in the dim light, the newness of our relationship blooming between us.
Finally I smiled, and the half grin I received in return erased my lingering self-consciousness.
He reached behind me and opened the door, where Greta and Lucia waited to receive me. He bowed his head and backed away, only turning when Greta began to swing the door closed. My hand fluttered at my neck where he had kissed me.
“Ready for bed?” Lucia asked, breaking the trance I’d fallen into.
“Yes,” I said, though sleep didn’t linger on the immediate horizon. I let her remove my dress and unpin my hair. “Lucia, you haven’t received invitations from the Prince, have you?”
“No, Echo. No such invitations have come.”
“I thought not.” My mind churned on what had happened to them as I slid between cool sheets and bid my maids goodnight.
Sleep stayed far from my thoughts as I began the location chant for Athe. I didn’t know her last name, but I felt I must find out where she’d been sent. I held onto the hope that the rebound from my spell-song would show me a lavish home on the banks of the Burisia River, with Athe taking a midnight stroll before retiring.
I pictured her platinum hair, her dark, exotic eyes. I poured the image into the song, and waited for the rebound. It came quickly, but it didn’t paint a picturesque view of the water.
Athe’s eyes were closed. Her shiny hair lay in straight strands and looked like tarnished gold next to her gray skin. Her lips were blue.
She was dead.
#
Half an hour later, a powerful magic roused me from my state of worry. I sat up in bed, pressing my palm over my pounding heart as I struggled to make sense of the song-magic surrounding me.
I was reminded briefly of Oake, for this magic felt ancient and huge. I knew it was not Oake, for his power didn’t play dangerous games and whisper in tongues I couldn’t comprehend. I felt an urgent need to be in the same room with this newly arrived magician; my magic craved to be near his.
I quickly changed into an aqua gown that had a zipper—no blasted buttons in sight. I sang a silencing spell, grateful beyond words that I could voice my magic without the earth swaying or voices plaguing me. The door closed behind me with a puff of air instead of a click, and I stole down the hall toward the spiraling ramp.
Ten minutes later, I stared at Cris’s door, wondering what age-old spell-song had lured me here.
Seventeen
Gibson emerged from the hall that led to the personal rooms in the Prince’s apartment. I’d been waiting nervously on an elegant leather couch for the past fifteen minutes, not quite sure why I’d come, but knowing I needed to be here. I couldn’t erase Athe’s rebound from my mind.
“His Majesty is sorry this is taking so long,” he said, but he did not sound apologetic. “He has asked me to offer you a drink.”
“Water would be lovely,” I said, dodging the thought of alcohol at this late hour.
“Water,” Gibson grumbled as he disappeared around the corner. When he returned, Bo accompanied him. They leaned against the wall, a barrier between me and Cris.
I sipped the water, not fully committed to drinking it outright. I nearly choked when I thought perhaps Bo or Gibson had poisoned it. I put the glass on the table in front of me and ignored the hostile glares of His Majesty’s personal bodyguards.
In the resulting silence, voices carried from down the hall. Terror struck me full in the chest. Cris wasn’t alone. I couldn’t place the emotion in the voices, and my magical abilities were unlike Matu’s, who could’ve felt if it was a man or a woman.
“I
’m interrupting,” I said, pushing myself to standing. “Will you kindly let Cris know that I’ll come by tomorrow morning?”
Bo’s eyes narrowed and a growl rumbled in his throat. “Do I look like your messenger?” He blew out his breath and folded his meaty arms over his chest.
“How dare you call him Cris?” Gibson demanded. Quicker than I thought possible, he crossed the room and shook a finger in my face. “You will show more respect than that.”
I took a step back and met the couch. “I will likely be your queen one day. I would be careful if I were you.” I fell into the sofa as if my words had sapped my strength.
Gibson bent down so he was still level with me. “You are nothing to me, girl. I have been by His Majesty’s side long before you came along, and I shall still be here long after you have gone.”
I focused on his yellow teeth. They foamed with spittle and clacked against his words. I nodded, my breath coming quicker. I wanted to sing one high note and sew his lips shut, but I hadn’t been lured here to reveal myself to Gibson.
A whistle sounded and just as quickly as Gibson had jumped down my throat, he retreated. Bo cut off the sound, made an angry slashing motion with his hand, and glared. Gibson returned the hostility in the form of a hiss and regained his position against the wall as if nothing had happened. I longed to call for Castillo, and together we would unite our voices until Bo and Gibson begged for release.
I lunged for the water and gulped it, suddenly not caring if it was poisoned or not. The coolness slid down my throat, extinguishing the heat of embarrassment flaming in my face. My hand shook as I replaced the glass on the table.
“Echo,” Cris said, and I cried out. He didn’t pay his bodyguards a second glance as he approached. “What is it? Are you all right?” I let him draw me into an embrace. Over his shoulder, Gibson and Bo wore identical looks of hatred, but whether for me, for Cris, or for each other I knew not.
“I’m fine,” I managed to say. “What took you so long?”
He held me at arm’s length, his hands warm on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Echo. I was not expecting you tonight, and I had another appointment.”
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