Tied to the Crown

by Neha Yazmin

  Rudro inclined his head. “You’re most welcome, Princess.” He turned around to face the castle. “I should let you get on with it.”

  He seemed disappointed and resigned as she walked him to the Palace gates. But he was unmistakably grateful when she assured him, “I’ll tell anyone who asks that you came for something in your room, and when I bumped into you, I invited you to take a walk with me.”

  “Thank you, Princess.”

  She was quite certain that she wasn’t in love with Seth. She didn’t want to kiss him, or touch him, or think about doing any of those things with him. Why, then, had it felt like her heart had broken every time she’d sent him away from her rooms these last few days? And each time he walked away, why did she long to call him back? It was crazy, this intense need to see him, to make sure he was alright, an odd sort of magic.

  Hadn’t Micah’s mother said that the Fresdan curse not only left the second brother ill, but also drew people to them, pulled at their hearts? Well, Seth had managed to weave himself into Aaryana’s heart, and she couldn’t cut him out. It was torture, staying away from him, but she did, as per Wyett’s orders.

  Wyett! The Prince was insufferable at the best of times, and heartless at the worst. He had come close to making her cry on Monday, when he’d told her that he could never feel anything for someone like her. I can’t see how anyone could. What a horrible thing to say! Did he not care that words could cut as deeply as blades?

  Aaryana had gone straight to her room after that, and locked the door. She told Jeena she wasn’t feeling well when the girl came to help her get ready for dinner.

  “I think I’m coming down with something,” she’d lied, not wanting to face Wyett over the dining table. Not when he’d seen her eyes tearing up. “And I don’t think I should eat anything tonight, Jeena. I’m not sure I can keep it down.”

  She wrote a quick message to the King and sent it to his secretary via Jeena, saying that she was indisposed. It was the first of three notes she wrote to him, cryptically excusing herself from the secret debriefings in his office on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night. She was terribly ill, she said, highly contagious perhaps, and so wasn’t leaving her chambers until it was safe for her fellow Courtiers to come into contact with her. The King wished her a quick recovery each time and left her in peace.

  She hoped he didn’t harbour any hard feelings towards her for delaying the uncovering of his enemies at Court. Hopefully, he’d realised by now that whoever was plotting against him was too clever to leave a trail.

  If she’d hoped that Wyett would check in on her, she would have been disappointed. In fact, when she’d coaxed Jeena into telling her how Wyett was behaving in her absence, the girl said that the Prince seemed “positively delighted.” He was clearly enjoying not having to make everyone think that he was in love with her. Should he be giving people this impression? Wouldn’t the King rebuke him for looking so pleased when his so-called lover was ill? What was Wyett playing at?

  Unless, he knew, somehow, that she was pretending? Yet, she couldn’t see how he’d come to that conclusion; her maid and guards were convinced of her condition. So much so that Jeena had broken her silence last night.

  “If I may say something, my Lady?” the girl had said when she’d brought Aaryana some mint tea before bedtime. “I don’t think you should… I don’t think the Crown Prince is right for you.”

  Aaryana had gaped at the girl. She couldn’t believe Jeena was suddenly talking to her. And about Wyett!

  “Why?” she croaked, taking a sip of the sweet tea. “Am I not worthy of him, Jeena?”

  “On the contrary, my Lady,” Jeena almost snapped, eyes flashing. “I don’t think you should marry someone who doesn’t care that you’re indisposed. It’s Wednesday today. You fell ill on Monday, and he still hasn’t come to see you. That’s not… well, it’s not very nice.”

  Aaryana laughed out loud. “Of course, he hasn’t come to see me, Jeena,” she said. “He wouldn’t want people at Court to gossip about us.”

  “They’re already gossiping!”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t want to fuel it. Neither do I.”

  “But don’t you feel sad that he hasn’t asked after your health yet?”

  “I’m almost completely better. Like I said this morning, I want to see Renchal tomorrow, for my hair.”

  The colours in her hair were fading; she needed a top-up. Or try a different colour.

  “I’m going to be alright, Jeena,” she insisted when Jeena opened her mouth to protest. “Besides, the Crown Prince has been asking after me. Why do you think Seth comes here twice a day?”

  “Though you never let him in!”

  “Yes, for his safety. But he comes on behalf of his brother.”

  “I thought he came to see if you’re well enough to train him?”

  “Well, that’s the alibi isn’t it?” Aaryana rolled her eyes. “I know Prince Wyett sends his little brother to get an update on how I am. He cares, Jeena, trust me.”

  “Well, I hope your faith in him isn’t misplaced, my Lady.”

  Jeena didn’t mention the Prince after that, and returned to her usual quiet self. She made some fuss when Aaryana really did start getting ready to visit Renchal on Thursday morning, but Aaryana batted her away. It wasn’t just her hair that needed care. She had the remainder of her questions for the beautician, though her conversations with the Ladies at Court had told her quite a lot already about what she was secretly investigating.

  She left her room early to avoid Seth. He had been coming to see her straight after breakfast in the last couple of days; she was glad that she’d made it to the Palace doors without running into him today. At the stables, however, she came to a halt when she saw Wyett. He was waiting for the stable boys to get his warhorse saddled up. His lips parted when he saw her. What was he doing here so early? Where was he off to? He must have skipped breakfast or taken it early in his rooms.

  It took one of the stable boys clearing his throat to make Aaryana realise that she and Wyett were standing there, staring at each other, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. The stable boy said he’d get her warhorse ready and she nodded in thanks. She watched after him as he approached her beast of a horse, angling her body away from Wyett.

  A few seconds later, the Prince’s horse was ready for him, but she didn’t hear him mount it. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him rubbing his horse’s head and ears. But his eyes were on her. She faced forward again. When her horse was brought over to her, she finally heard Wyett mount his. He trotted off slowly and stopped at the Palace gates where three guards waited for him with their own horses. He had probably planned to go for a ride; now he obviously wanted a word with her.

  Aaryana climbed onto her saddle, joined the Prince at the gates, and followed him as he sped away. He was so fast that his guards fell far, far behind. Aaryana hadn’t raced in a while, but her warhorse was stronger and more powerful than any mare or stallion she’d ridden in Adgar, and he easily kept up with the Crown Prince’s warhorse, almost a twin to her own.

  When Aaryana decided to try and overtake him, Wyett pulled his horse to a stop. Aaryana flew past him, before slowing down and eventually stopping altogether. She turned her horse around to find Wyett trotting up to her. He halted his horse when he was right beside her, albeit facing the other way. She thought about inclining her head, bidding him a good morning, but decided against it and held his unreadable gaze instead. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, do something, and when the silence only stretched on, he heaved a great sigh.

  Finally, he spoke. Through clenched teeth. “So, you’re better?”

  “That’s really not anyone’s concern, Your Highness,” she said with a sweet smile and an even sweeter voice. “Least of all yours. After all, how could anyone care about someone like me?”

  Wyett sneered. “Because if you are well now,” he said as though she hadn’t spoken, “Father expects to see you in his office as usual.”
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  He looked over his shoulder to see that his guards were closing in and held up his hand to stop them, keep them out of earshot.

  “So, if I were you, I’d turn around and catch up on doing what he has tasked you with.”

  “And if I were you, Your Highness, I’d be happy that my enemy was going to see a beautician instead of following the King’s instructions.”

  “And why is that?” he snarled.

  “Well, it would get me thrown out of the Palace, wouldn’t it, if I ignored my duties to the King?” Aaryana arched an eyebrow. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, me out of the castle, out of your life?”

  “I want you dead!” Wyett hissed, his nostrils flared.

  She sucked in a breath, stunned. The hatred in his eyes, he could kill her with that alone.

  “Then, kill me now,” she challenged, voice low. “I dare you.” She jerked her head towards his bodyguards in the distance and said, “Your guards won’t care. Your people won’t care. Your father won’t throw you in the dungeons for it; you’re his Heir. You won’t get a chance like this again. Take it. Take your Royal Sword and cut off my head.”

  “So ready to die, Princess?” He sneered the last word Princess.

  “Ready for peace,” she corrected, sighing. She looked down as she added, “You know the world will be a better place without me. All I do is break hearts, the hearts of the people that love me most. I shouldn’t have told Rudro that I didn’t love him, knowing it would crush him.”

  “What?”

  When she lifted her head, she found that Wyett’s face had paled.

  “I should have told him the truth,” she mumbled, “I should have told him that he had my heart from a very long time ago.” She shook her head, sighed again.

  In the silence that followed, the Prince stared at her intently, trying to decipher something.

  He clearly failed, because his next words were: “Does he have it still?” His voice was quiet. “Your heart?”

  Aaryana said nothing.

  “He does,” the Prince murmured. “Why did you lie to Father, then? To Seth? You told them you were free of him…”

  “I thought I was,” she whispered lowering her gaze. “But these last few days… while I was ill… I found myself… he was very kind to me, very sweet. The day I nearly drowned in the sea, he went in to find me.” Aaryana swallowed. “I realise now that no one has ever treated me like that, even though I was a Princess. I lost more than just my Throne when I was banished, I lost my heart. I really have nothing to live for.”

  She raised her chin and squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye. “So, you might as well put me out of my misery, Your Highness. I can’t take it anymore.”

  Wyett was white as chalk. He wasn’t expecting a suicide wish when he’d lured her here. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, he nodded and backed away from her.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Princess. You might just get it.”

  Wyett felt her eyes on his back as he rode away. He didn’t know how he knew, but he thought she was following him with her eyes to make sure he was alright. She had that protective side to her that sometimes reminded him of his mother.

  He shook his head. The Adgari was nothing like his mother. The girl was the most bizarre creature he’d ever met. The things she came up with! There wasn’t a single suicidal bone in her body; she was built to survive. To last. Fight. She was lying to him. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to rule a Kingdom. My Kingdom.

  And he didn’t think she meant what she said about that Rudro, either. Though her words were heavy with emotion, Wyett didn’t think they were weighed down with truth. She was saying it to… what? What did she think it would do? Hurt him? Make him jealous? Make him want her because she wanted someone else, because someone else wanted her? Ridiculous.

  All that l did was make him want to get rid of her even more.

  Renchal’s wasn’t open yet. She should have known. For the least popular beautician in Roshdan, it wouldn’t make sense for the man to wake up early and throw open the doors for customers that wouldn’t come. Aaryana dismounted her horse and folded herself down on the steps leading to the parlour.

  The morning was mild and pleasant, so she didn’t mind waiting. She had been cooped up inside for too long. It was nice to just breathe in the cool air, feel the breeze tickling her skin. She practiced the way she’d question Renchal about hair dyes without making obvious what she really wanted to know. She would have to phrase everything just right. Now that she was thought to be the Crown Prince’s lover, people would be very interested in the things she did and said outside the Palace walls.

  About half an hour later, she heard the sounds of approach. Assuming it was Renchal, Aaryana hauled herself off the ground. Only to find a familiar little boy jog up to her. Micah’s messenger. The child said nothing this time and simply dropped a folded piece of parchment at her feet and sprinted away. She sat back down and picked up the note. It had an unfamiliar name written on it—Hal Manus—and nothing else. So, Micah was giving her the name of the person that had supposedly tipped off the King about her letter to Rudro?

  He’s lying. He was trying to trick her. Buy her allegiance and services with fake gold. Hal hadn’t alerted the King about the letter Micah had smuggled onto the seabird; it was Aaryana. She had ensured that her message to Rudro made it to the King so that the one to Myraa went unnoticed. No one would search for a second letter when one had been discovered.

  When the rebel leader had promised to unmask the person that betrayed her to King Keyan, Aaryana knew he’d never learn the truth, but she was interested in seeing what he’d do. A test, which he’d failed miserably. Micah couldn’t be trusted at all. And he seemed rather evil, naming an innocent man as the culprit. Did he really think she’d believe him?

  “Good morning, Princess,” came Renchal’s voice from a foot away.

  She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard his approach. She rose to her feet as he gave her a bow.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said as he opened the lock to his parlour.

  “I see that news travels far and wide.” Aaryana smirked as he held the door for her to enter.

  “It does when it comes to the health of our future Queen,” the tall, slim man said. He led her to the chair in front of the large mirror on the wall.

  “Ah, but he hasn’t proposed to me yet,” she said dramatically as she sat down. “And His Majesty—”

  “Is waiting patiently for the Crown Prince to come to his senses and propose to you, is what I’ve heard.”

  “Well, what is he waiting for, then?” She pouted at her reflection.

  Renchal began combing his fingers through her hair. “You tell me…”

  “Maybe he needs a little more convincing. Renchal, do something dramatic with my hair. Dye it black.”

  The man’s eyes widened in surprise, his hands stilled in her tresses. “Black isn’t the most romantic colour—”

  “I think it will make my eyes look brighter.” She jutted her chin out stubbornly.

  “Perhaps, but the ingredients in the black dye aren’t great for the hair.”

  “Yes, you said it makes the hair dry and rough. I think the colour will look good on me. I’ll take the risk and try it for a couple of weeks.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am, but I suppose you might as well tell me everything about the dye, just so I know what to expect.”

  “As you wish,” Renchal murmured as he got to work.

  That afternoon, Aaryana left the parlour with straight black hair—no curls this time—and everything she wanted to know from Renchal.

  The question was, how was she going to use this information?

  Despite wanting to visit the library on Wednesday and Thursday, Malin had grudgingly kept away. It irked her to waste two rainy days floating around Court instead of continuing her research, but it was necessary. She couldn’t let on that she
was on a mission of sorts. She was being watched. Closely.

  After seeing Rudro out of the castle on Tuesday, Malin had headed for the library to locate the tale of the Sea Princess, only to have Parth intercept her on the way. She had feigned a headache to get away from him. That meant she had to retire to her room as she usually did during the dry days, and stay there all day, so not to arouse his suspicions.

  She had wished that she’d had the Sea Princess book with her to make the hours pass quicker, because lying on the marble floor of her bedchamber—to stay as cool as possible in the smothering heat—wasn’t fun if you had nothing to do and no one to talk to. Malin had considered leaving the Palace through her secret passage, donning her Shahan skin and roaming the Outskirts, but it was sweltering outside. She wouldn’t be any more comfortable than her solitary confinement.

  There was one thing she could have spent these last three days considering, but she refused to do it. The matter had annoyed her when Parth brought it up just before she took to her chambers on Tuesday morning, and she really hoped he wouldn’t follow up with her when he next found her alone. She honestly didn’t like talking to him or holding any of his attention.

  Unfortunately, her recent visits to the library and the ‘improvement’ in her headaches, had shoved her into his field of vision. Her brother-in-law wasn’t going to let her leave it until he figured out what she was up to.

  Parth himself was up to nothing good. She was sure that it was his idea to expand Adgar’s military forces—she’d heard the Ladies gossiping about the changes at the Academy—and because he was the first to mention it to her, Malin was certain that it was his ambition to have his cousin, Prince Tyross, marrying into Adgar’s Royal Family.

  “I wonder if I could keep you one moment longer, Princess,” Parth had said on Tuesday after conveying his sympathies over the onset of her migraine.

  She had pressed her fingers to her right temple, where the faked pain supposedly was, relieved that he didn’t appear to know that she’d just been talking to Rudro.