by Ali Winters
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Epilogue
Glossary
Sound Track
Star Map
Other Books By Ali Winters
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Newsletter Sign Up
Ali Winters
Copyright © 2016, Ali Winters
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.
Published May 2016 by Sapphire Press
www.sapphire-press.com
Professionally edited by Fairytale Flawless Fiction Edits
Cover design by: Red Umbrella Graphic Designs
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN-10: 1-945238-02-X
ISBN-13: 978-1-945238-02-4
www.aliwinters.com
To my Mom and Dad,
for everything.
Oriana
Oriana’s long gown brushed against her ankles as she tiptoed down the corridor, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. She pressed her back against the wall. Just a little farther and she’d be there. Murmurs from the guests that had already arrived floated up to the darkened cove near the top of the stairs.
Butterflies danced in her chest. Tonight was Udaya—the festival of the rising sun and moon—the announcement of Oriana’s engagement to the Prince of the warrior planet, Jupiter. Unfortunately, it was also held on her centennial, as well as her Tauri—a celebration presenting her to the other royals of the neighboring worlds within the Inner Ring as a future heir to the throne—and her parents had seen fit to hold a masquerade for the triple celebration.
The future heirs of each kingdom would don the colors of Soleis—black, white, and a silvery grey—for the occasion, wearing identical masks and matching uniforms, making them entirely indistinguishable from one another.
Tonight, Oriana would be paraded around like nothing more than an object for all of the Solar System to ogle at. If this wasn’t enough, Earth—the first Kingdom new to the Inner Ring Alliance in over a millennium—would be there. Their first impression of her Kingdom would be the transaction of her heart, as possession, to the Prince of another. Would they think Soleis nothing more than a backward planet with antiquated practices? The bitter notion made her stomach roll.
Shaking off that less-than-appealing thought, Oriana crept forward. The white crystal threads of her dress shimmered, taking on the orange hues of the corridor’s lit sconces and red tones from the drape-lined walls. Smokey gray lace wrapped around her body, climbing upward and billowing into capped sleeves. Trails of material ran down the left side meeting her hip, gradually dropping, and reaching the hem of the full skirt.
Long, loose strands of her black hair fell over her shoulder; the golden highlights glittering like stars in the night sky in the corner of her vision.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, she pulled back the curtain. Just a glimpse before they change… She leaned forward.
Guests filtered in using the large segregated doors. The heirs, using the doors on the left, would be led by the Soleisan Citali Guards into the far wing, where they would change from their countries’ uniforms to that of Soleis—one more detail to make the night more difficult. With all the pressure put on her, a little advantage couldn’t hurt…
“Oriana, there you are!” a shrill voice called, startling her. Her hand jumped to rest above her heart, trying to still the racing beat.
“Yes, Celeste?” Oriana answered, taking a step away from the wall, attempting to fake nonchalance.
“What are you doing out of your room? You must finish getting ready,” Celeste insisted.
With one last, wistful, glance over her shoulder, Oriana hung her head and followed her handmaiden back to her dressing room. Celeste had been with her since the day she was born, only a decade older, but at one hundred, the difference felt more like nothing at all.
“You are to meet your betrothed tonight,” Celeste said, a little too cheerfully.
If she is so fond of the Prince, maybe she should marry him. She thought with bitter reverence.
Oriana closed her eyes as she took a slow breath, stifling her irritation. It wasn’t her fault that Oriana had no say in her future, Celeste was only trying to make the best of an outdated tradition.
Stopping in the doorway to her room, Oriana looked down, twisting her fingers, “I just don’t like the idea of marrying someone I’ve never met.”
“Prince Caelan will be an excellent match for you, Princess,” she said gently. “We will make sure you look extra beautiful for him tonight.” Celeste turned to her and pulled her into the room.
Oriana sighed heavily and allowed Celeste to sit her down on the padded bench in front of the vanity. The woman didn’t waste a second before she began pulling and tugging on her hair. Mere minutes had passed and Celeste had Oriana’s raven locks pinned to the top of her head. A few curls fell to one side, and cascaded down her shoulder. Golden star dust, to accentuate her highlights, had been sprinkled into her hair. The black and gold strands glittered in the candlelight, like the distant night sky.
She glared down at her hands, twisting in her lap with nervous energy. Stalling.
“Please Princess,” Celeste begged. “You must finish getting ready. This is the event of the Millennia, and it will start at any moment. If you’re late, your parents will have me on scullery duty for a year!” She walked briskly into the adjoining room, mumbling to herself.
The music grew louder, filling the hallways with its cheerful melody. Oriana wrinkled her nose at the jewelry Celeste had laid out for her. Fine strands of silver connected a handful of diamonds placed at random over the five layers of chains. It would undoubtedly call more attention to her—if that were even possible.
Her fingers played with the rounded, single crystal she always wore around her neck. A gift from her parents when she was a child, handed down, generation to generation. Unclasping the crystal pendant, she wrapped it loosely around her wrist, and tucked the silver chain into the white glove covering her hand. Oriana picked up the delicate diamond ceremonial necklace and carefully fastened it around her neck. A symbol that she would now be part of the politics, rituals, and delegations of the universe in preparation to one day ascend to the throne. The sparkling jewels glittered across her neck and chest.
As beautiful as it was, this was all a bit much for her to handle.
Everything Oriana had avoided thinking about for months, suddenly came rushing at her in a wave too big to be stopped, or ignored, any longer. She understood that it was her centennial and she would be presented to all the neighboring kingdoms of the Inner Ring Alliance of their Solar system—but what bothered her most was, with this night, the countdown of the last year of her life before she would marry Prince Caelan would begin. It would be their one—and only—meeting before their wedding and no amount of arguing had ever persuaded her parents to let them meet before tonight.
“Tradition,” her mother would say before patting her on the head and walking away.
Oriana picked up the diamond stud earrings and fastened them in her ears. She studied her reflection, hardly recognizing herself. The dress, the jewels, and her hair, all made her look older. She looked like… a queen.
“Oh, Oriana,” Celeste breathed. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.” Oriana averted her eyes, murmuring, “I just don’t like—”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted, rushing over to her, a mask and crystal slippers in hand. “Put these on.” Celeste shoved the shoes into her hands and stepped behind her to fasten the mask over the Princess’ face.
“These are so uncomfortable,” Oriana complained. They were just as lovely as everything else, with smoky crystal facets dividing one surface into many—but beauty did not equal comfort.
She adjusted her mask, the harsh edges of the crystals itching against her sensitive skin. Her face would be red and scratched raw by the end of the night. The mask covered the top half of her face, leaving only her gray eyes exposed, wrapping to the side of her head and away from her cascading curls.
Sick of looking at her reflection, Oriana stood and walked over to her balcony, casting the doors wide. The cool night air caressed her face.
The entrance to the ballroom below was open, allowing freedom of movement in and out of the court yard. Laughter floated up from the party. Guests milled around, drinking and talking while they awaited her entrance.
The land before her sparkled, stretching out further than the eye could see. A lush garden led to a thin stream that emptied into the clear waters of Mirror Lake. The light of the Gateway Arch just beyond the palace grounds glowed steadily as guests continued to arrive.
The moon, high overhead, cast a soft light on her future Kingdom. Her world generated a blinding light during the day, but as the moon climbed across the sky, the planet of Soleis dimmed, glittering, and reflecting the night. She was Princess of the Star Kingdom,—and heir to the throne.
“Oriana?” Celeste’s voice was gentle behind her.
Swallowing hard, Oriana turned to face her, dreading the night to come.
“It is time, Princess.”
Nodding, she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and strode out the door. She padded softly to the top of the stairs. I wonder if I could hide… she turned, and stopped.
Celeste was behind her, watching her every move—and blocking her only path of escape.
Resigning to her fate Oriana placed her hand on the banister, and took step after slow step, down the stairs.
Trumpets blared, and she cringed inwardly. Her pleasant smile, plastered on her lips, became an unmoving mask, hiding the dread she felt trickling down to her core.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Princess Oriana of Soleis!”
The trumpets sounded once again as she continued her descent.
Her court greeted her at the bottom of the stairs and Oriana murmured her thanks as she passed. Holding her head up high, she ventured into the crowd.
The kings wore the military uniforms of their Citinal, and the queens wore gowns representing the colors of their worlds. The Princes all wore the uniforms of Soleis, in black and white, accentuated by glittering silver threads. The Princesses each had uniquely styled dresses in the same colors. The future heirs would socialize, as well as begin their own alliances for when their times as rulers finally came. The true masquerade here, though, was not in the act of dressing up in uncomfortable shoes and masks, but in fact that these events were designed for talking business, and yet it was unlikely for any socialization to escalate beyond small talk about the weather.
“Good evening young Princess.” An older man with silver hair and a rounded middle leaned over her. Pale, ice blue eyes stared out from behind the mask and his sapphire uniform, with its white sash, told her exactly what she needed to know.
“G—good evening,” she stumbled over her words, surprised by the man’s sudden proximity. “Thank you for coming.” She stepped to the side in an attempt to escape, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.
“I am King Odine, of the planet Neptune.”
She pulled her hand from his grasp and lifted the hem of her skirt in a low curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your Majesty.” Straightening, Oriana took a step back, creating a much needed space between them.
He reached out, grasping her hand again while placing a light peck on her knuckles.
“The pleasure is mine tonight, dear Princess. We have waited a long time for your centennial. I will not hold you up any longer. The Princes are probably growing impatient, waiting to meet you.” He winked at her, then added. “Please remember to save a dance for me before the end of the night.”
“Of course, your Highness,
Oriana smiled demurely at King Odine and walked into the crowed.
Her cheeks burned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had met anyone new, but it had never been like that. This evening was making every nerve in her body stand on end. Silently, she prayed to the stars above that it would pass quickly and then added that she hoped her betrothed would grow to be something more than a pleasant acquaintance, maybe even a friend.
“Pardon me, Princess,” a soft voice said.
The woman, Queen Tatianna of Pluto, was tall and thin, her short aqua hair styled in soft, unmoving waves. “My daughter has wanted to meet you for quite some time.”
Oriana looked down at the girl, who was clinging tightly to her mother’s pinky finger. A silver-grey dress, with a layer of delicate black lace over the top, fell to her ankles. Even in the Soleisan colors, there was only one Princess in the galaxy so young.
“You must be Princess Cassia of Pluto.” Oriana kneeled down, so she was at eye level.
The young Princess nodded as a broad smile broke out over her face, finding pleasure at being included in the night's festivities.
“Thank you,” mouthed the Queen.
“It was my pleasure, your Highness.”
The Queen bowed gracefully, before leading the girl away.
Wandering in and out of the crowd Oriana mingled with her new guests, trying to figure out the identities of some, and doing her best to avoid the leering gaze of others.
Her eyes darted to the grandfather clock standing against the far wall. Time was dragging its feet, this night seemed never ending and the smile plastered on her face was beginning to ache. The only bright side she could find was the mind-numbing dullness of the masquerade and small talk had dissipated the butterflies that had been swarming in her stomach.
“Hello, Princess Oriana,” a deep, silky voice said, pulling her eyes from the crowd. “You are looking more radiant than all the stars combined tonight.” A tall, muscular Prince approached her. He held himself with a mild arrogance as he took her hand in his and bowed low, kissing her hand. “May I have this dance?”
The Prince looked at her, his expression curious and impatient. He seemed nice, and at least he wasn’t leaning over her, practically drooling. Light brown and tan streaked hair was swept, neatly, to one side and bright honey-colored eyes, with flecks of orange, smiled at her from behind the black of his metal mask. When his smile wavered she realized she had never responded, she’d been too busy staring. Quickly, she nodded.
“Yes,” her answer sounded breathless.
He took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. His movements wer
e stiff and formal as he placed his hand at the small of her back and began to swirl her around the floor in time to the cheerful music. Others soon joined in, surrounding them in a flurry of color.
“Your beauty is bright as the sun, blinding me to everyone else in the room.”
“Thank you.” Oriana flushed, heat rising to her cheeks. It hadn’t been the first compliment of the night, but it had felt the most genuine. Something about it felt intimate, too intimate for her comfort.
Her skirts fluttered around her feet as he twirled her across the dance floor. Spinning, she caught the gaze of an older man.
Tall and thin, he wore the colors of the Star Kingdom—his face unfamiliar to her—waltzed by with one of the young Princesses. He was not a Prince and should have been in his Kingdom’s colors. Long, dusty black hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. His impossibly dark eyes, sunken among sharp features, locked onto her face briefly, before he turned, and danced into the crowd. Oriana stumbled slightly. Without missing a beat, the Prince steadied her within his arms.
Bringing her attention back to her dance partner, Oriana racked her brain for a topic. “I’m not sure what to talk about with someone I’ve never met before.” She let out a nervous giggle and hiccupped in an attempt to stop it. Her gray eyes widened and her cheeks burned.
Great first impression…
What Prince would take a giggling fool seriously in future negotiations?
“There is no need. You can just dance and enjoy yourself,” he replied more formally than she would expect from one of her peers. He twirled her out, and then back in, the sleek crystal skirt fluttered out in a flurry of fabric. All she wanted was this physically painful and humiliating dance to be over with.
From the way he moved, it was evident the Prince knew his way around the dance floor, she’d give him that, but his communication skills needed a bit of work.