Tied to the Crown

by Neha Yazmin

  “It was the Nidiya family.”

  “What?” Malin blurted out, heart racing, feet halting.

  The old man chuckled and carried on towards his desk. She followed with quaking knees.

  “Yes, Queen Kanona’s ancestors. Their efforts to prevent young minds getting corrupted by the foreign tale was one of the things that made the Royal Family admire them so much. They were welcomed to Court with open arms, despite the fact that they were immigrants and weren’t of noble blood—”

  “The Nidiyas were immigrants?” Malin gasped, truly stunned.

  If they hadn’t stopped at the librarian’s table, she would have frozen on the spot.

  “They originally descended from Khadak,” the man explained as he sat down, “but they were no more than peasants when they first came to Adgar. They were hardworking, though, and beautiful. They married well and climbed up the social ladder quickly.

  “Their campaign against the Sea Princess’s tale won them Lordships and land, and the family has been close to the Kings and Queens of Adgar over the centuries. It’s really quite fascinating.”

  “It is.” Malin swallowed.

  “Now, who should I write this out to?” the librarian asked, his quill poised to write down her name and address.

  “I’m very sorry, but I don’t think I’ll borrow this book today.”

  It was one thing lying to the people in the Outskirts about who Shahan was and where he lived, but another to have a written record of Shahan in the Public Library.

  “Since my sister is used to the older version, she won’t be happy with this edition. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  Her visit here had also been a waste. The Tale of the Sea Princess was re-written to make it more appropriate for children, that’s all. There was no other mystery or conspiracy behind the differing versions. I got excited for no reason. The original version probably didn’t have any more clues relating to the missing people than the second and third editions.

  “Thank you for your time,” she said to the elderly man and began to walk away. “I hope you have a good day.”

  “You know, your sister and her friend really shouldn’t be reading the second edition, for their own good,” the librarian called out as he rose from his chair.

  The man walked around his desk and followed her. She stopped, so not to be rude.

  “How did they get hold of that book in the first place?” the man asked. “Once the third edition was printed, the older versions were destroyed. In fact, only a copy each remains of the original story and the Nayn Rametti version, and as far as I’m aware, those two books have been in the Royal Library all this time. And I believe that no one is permitted to take them out of there.”

  “Really? In the Palace?” she asked, hoping to distract the librarian. “Why did the Royals want to keep them?”

  “Just as a memento, I suppose. Historical artefacts, you know.” He shrugged. “It was one of the few things from Roshdan that ever reached these shores, it being so far—”

  “Roshdan?” Malin squealed unintentionally. “Roshdan?” Where Aaryana is. “The Sea Princess’s tale is a Roshdani story?”

  Smiling, the librarian said, “Yes. We don’t know much about the Island, because it’s so far away, but it’s not the most interesting of places. The Tale of the Sea Princess was its one and only thing of note. Some say that’s the reason the Chief of Justice chose to exile the Heir—I mean, Princess Aaryana—to Roshdan, because its blandness would serve as another punishment.”

  “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  Malin hurried out of the library and jogged to the waiting horse, desire to read the original version of the Sea Princess’s story reigniting in her gut. Of course, it did, after everything the librarian just said. But the original hadn’t been on the same shelf as the other two versions in the Royal Library—she’d checked the entire shelf when she’d returned the second edition on Saturday night—and if no one was allowed to take it out of the Palace’s library, it was likely amongst the stacks somewhere.

  Where, though? And how was she going to search for it without being watched or caught by Parth’s spy?

  “Wait!” called the librarian. She ignored him and rode away.

  He has it backwards. It was the Old King that chose Roshdan as the land where Aaryana would spend her exile, not the Chief of Justice. When Malin had asked her father why he’d selected Roshdan out of all the Islands in the north, he hadn’t said anything about the Island being bland.

  “Roshdan has a very rich history, I’m told,” her father had said. “I thought your sister would find it most enlightening.”

  This was the first time since Aaryana had been invited to Court that she was feeling self-conscious. And seriously annoyed. Having two guards following her around everywhere was the last thing she needed. How was she going to sneak away to the Nidiyan Mountains when Wyett had tasked these men to watch her at all times?

  Luckily, they didn’t follow her into her chambers. What had led the Crown Prince to give her the privacy that he didn’t have? That Seth and Quin didn’t have? Was it because he felt uncomfortable telling two grown men to enter Aaryana’s room when she was in there alone? Quin had her ladies-in-waiting with her all the time, so she was never on her own with her bodyguards; Seth and Wyett were both male and clearly didn’t have an issue with Royal Guards occupying their quarters.

  Aaryana just had Jeena but the girl didn’t keep her company at all times, didn’t sleep in her rooms. Couple that with the fact that everyone thought Wyett was courting Aaryana, it made sense for him to order the guards to stay out of her apartment. He could have assigned me female bodyguards, though…

  Shrugging the thought aside, she left her chambers on Tuesday morning to go to breakfast. The guards walked behind her, and she tried her best not to scowl about it. She may have kept to her rooms all day yesterday after her confrontation with Wyett in his rooms, but she knew she couldn’t keep doing that.

  Besides, her absence from Court hadn’t elicited a response from the Prince. Aaryana had assumed that because she’d told him that she’d see him at breakfast, he might have found it a little strange that she hadn’t turned up for any of the meals in the dining hall. But no, he didn’t do anything to suggest he’d even noticed that she hadn’t been present.

  Even the note cancelling last night’s meeting in the eastern tower had come from the King. It seemed that Wyett was going to keep his distance if she decided to keep hers. Fine. Hadn’t she thought better of playing games with him?

  The best thing for her to do from now on was to be polite and friendly. This was the man she needed to marry. The man that could help make her journey back to Adgar much easier.

  I’ll try to become his friend, she decided as she neared the dining hall, rather than try to seduce or flirt with him. If he saw what Myraa saw in her. What Zang, Vetna, and her crew had seen in her. What Seth sees. Wyett wouldn’t reject her friendship, wouldn’t feel ashamed of himself for accepting it.

  She got the chance to show him her true self sooner than she’d expected. Wyett was outside the dining hall, talking with one of his guards. When he spotted her, he gave her a nod. Aaryana stopped and bowed. As she straightened up, her fingers automatically rose towards the silk scarf wrapped around her neck. She caught herself at the last second and made a show of scratching her earlobe. The corners of Wyett’s mouth twitched, amused. She stopped scratching and smoothed her hair over her ears.

  Giving the Prince a small smile, she headed for the dining hall. Yes, her plan had been to befriend him, but she didn’t want to disturb whatever discussion he was having with his bodyguard.

  “Good morning.”

  Aaryana halted at the threshold of the hall, her heart jumping into her throat. Slowly, she spun to face Wyett.

  “Good morning, Your Highness.”

  He was walking up to her, his eyes darting from her neck to her face. Like yesterday, she was wearing a black scarf to hide her cut
and her hair was down again, too. The idea was to draw as little attention to her neck as possible, and by matching her scarves to her black hair, she was was trying to camouflage the silk to look like hair.

  Wyett may have given her permission to insinuate that she was concealing a mark left by passion rather than a knife, but it didn’t mean she’d go out of her way to make that insinuation.

  “How are you feeling?” His voice was quiet, formal.

  “Fine, Your Highness, how are you?” she replied in a rush.

  He ignored her question. “You didn’t come to Court yesterday,” he murmured. “Seth was worried.”

  “Seth?” Aaryana wasn’t sure why her voice went up an octave. “How is—why is he worried?” she amended.

  No matter how much nicer his behaviour towards her had become since the finding ceremony, Wyett definitely wouldn’t hadn’t changed his mind about her enquiring after Seth’s illness.

  “Apparently, you told him you’d see him at breakfast and didn’t show up at Court all day.”

  “I told Seth that I’d see him at breakfast?” She shook her head, bewildered. She hadn’t spoken to Seth since the morning of the harvest festival. “Apologies, Your Highness, but Prince Seth must have been mistaken. I didn’t speak to him yesterday.” She pleaded to him with her eyes to believe her.

  The Crown Prince’s lips quivered, his green eyes lit up. He was amused? “You didn’t go to his room yesterday morning and you didn’t tell him that you’d see him at breakfast as you left?” Wyett asked pointedly, clearly suppressing a teasing smile.

  “I didn’t, Your Highness. I went to—”

  Wyett had let himself smile, rolled his eyes indulgently, and she realised what he was doing. He was saying his brother’s name when he was actually referring to himself.

  “You went where?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  But she couldn’t think of a response. Wyett had just admitted to being worried about her because he hadn’t seen her yesterday. What could she say to that? The truth, she decided. Wyett was being honest, so should she. No more games.

  “Seth is sweet,” she said, lowering her head and letting her hair fall around her face. “And I am not worthy of his kindness.” Of course, she wasn’t.

  She wanted to marry Wyett so that her return to Adgar wouldn’t be unlawful, and she’d find a way to make him her husband regardless of what he wanted, what he felt. She didn’t deserve anything from him, least of all his family name.

  The Throne of Adgar, however, was her birthright. She had to return for it—and for much more, if what her mother had said was true. So, I will lie and cheat and hurt anyone I have to in order to save my Kingdom from drowning, from burning.

  “But I will take it,” she continued out loud to Wyett, “because I am selfish and I want his friendship.”

  He stared intently into her eyes, seeking her truth. “You want what you don’t deserve?”

  “Don’t we all?” She arched an eyebrow. “Thieves don’t deserve the riches they steal, but they kill for those jewels and pearls. Some people don’t deserve to be hurt, but they can’t stop themselves from wanting the person that will hurt them the most.” She shook her head. “We want what we shouldn’t, and want it even more because of it. It’s what flaws us so.”

  “And I’d say that you’re the most flawed of us all.”

  There was a challenge in his tone, in his green eyes—Tell me I’m wrong about that, he seemed to be saying, I dare you.

  “I’d say you’re right.” She flashed him a wicked grin before gesturing towards the dining table. “Breakfast, Your Highness?”

  “You go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll see you in there.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the man he’d been speaking to, indicating that he had unfinished business with his guard. She wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t see him for the rest of the day. He would give her a taste of her own medicine, and she wasn’t sure if she’d digest it well.

  A Wyett that behaved himself was very easy to like.

  Chapter 11

  Rudro wasn’t expecting anyone today. So, when one of his colleagues came to the Academy’s training field where he was teaching his only class of the day, he couldn’t fathom who might have come looking for him.

  “A boy, you say?” Rudro asked his fellow teacher.

  “Yes, but he didn’t give his name.” The man had mentioned that this mystery visitor would wait until Rudro’s lesson was over.

  Excitement fizzed in his veins and he willed for this afternoon’s lesson to fly by. Well, he’d been counting down the end to this particularly hot Tuesday from the moment he woke up this morning. It was a great testament to his students’ dedication that they were practicing swordplay without complaint as the sun beat down on their deeply tanned skin. The air was thick with the dust that their feet kicked off the desert-dry earth.

  No one outside the Island would believe that it had rained oceans and rivers in the previous two days.

  Rudro didn’t know how much more of the heat he could take. How much his students could take. Already, several had been unable to participate in their classes recently because they’d fallen ill. The students training before him were struggling—how many of them would sit out the classes tomorrow?

  “Alright, everyone,” Rudro found himself calling out. “I think we should call it a day. Most of you look like you’re going to faint at any moment.”

  Slowly, the youths began to clear up their equipment, relieved expressions even on the toughest of the group. They would have plenty on their plates in the coming months or years, if the new classes teaching battle strategy was anything to go by. The Chief of Defence taught these lessons, getting the Academy students well acquainted with various attack and defence formations that would only be utilised during a war.

  Once again, Rudro wondered whether Queen Leesha was feeling insecure in her position and thus expanding her defences or if she was so confident in her capabilities as a monarch that she wanted to conquer another Kingdom. Aaryana would have figured out what her sister was planning, would have confided in Rudro about it. She wouldn’t have let Leesha subject the Academy students to military training.

  Then again, if Aaryana was here, she would have been on the Throne or rotting away in the dungeons.

  Sometimes, it shook him to think that if Aaryana hadn’t been accused of murder, she would have been Queen today. She should have taken the alibi Prince Tyross had given her during her trial; perhaps she should have married him, too. She should be Queen of two Kingdoms, just as she’d always wanted.

  Rudro swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he pictured Aaryana and the Heir of Khadak sitting side-by-side, both wearing Crowns, and giving Rudro their blessing to train their children for The Contest. Shaking away the impossible image from his mind, he headed towards his office to meet his anonymous visitor.

  However, the lump bobbing in his throat became larger when a different vision flashed in his mind: Aaryana in tattered clothes, knackered from hard labour, but laughing with joy as her Roshdani husband lifted her in the air and spun her around and around.

  Had she met someone in the north? Given her heart away? Somehow, it felt worse, not knowing whether or not she had a lover in Roshdan. At least I kissed her once. Kissed her before anyone else. Except, he’d let her think that it never happened. And he’d done it so that she’d move on and find someone else to hold and kiss.

  Why did it hurt so much then, to think that she was doing exactly what he wanted her to do?

  The young boy sitting on the stool outside his office was wearing a cap and resting his face in his hands, obscuring most of the features that would have helped Rudro decide if he knew this teenager. As the youth twisted his head to see who was approaching him, the Combat Master saw his eyes. And he recognised him immediately.

  Or rather, recognised her immediately. Princess Malin.

  He opened his mouth to ask her why she was dressed like a boy—and h
e would have used her name, too—but she flew to her feet at once and said in a voice that wasn’t her own, “Please may we speak in your office?”

  Well, the voice was her own, but she’d deepened it, made it breathy, and it almost sounded like a man. Almost, but not exactly. It had fooled his colleague, though, which meant that unless you were well acquainted with the youngest Vijkanti Princess, you wouldn’t suspect anything was amiss. Why was she impersonating a boy?

  “Please, come in,” he said with a stiff nod.

  He unlocked the door to his office—he got to keep his old office since the new Academy Head wasn’t based here—and led the Princess inside.

  “Why are you—”

  “I snuck out of the Palace,” she told him without preamble and took the chair opposite his. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”

  After locking the door, Rudro took his seat. “This is how you interviewed the people in the Outskirts.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed with a sigh.

  Rudro sighed back. “So, what can I help you with, Princess?” He clasped his hands and rested them on his desk.

  “Well, you can’t help me with what I need,” she said, a despairing edge to her voice. “But I’ve been thinking it over and over in my head all day and I just need to talk about it.” She exhaled as though exhausted and her shoulders curved inward.

  “I’m listening.” He gave her an encouraging smile.

  This time, the Princess sucked in a big breath. “I don’t know where to start,” she said with a shake of her head. “There are all these threads, tangled up and knotted together, and I just don’t know what they’re pointing to… And on top of all that, I found out today that my mother’s ancestors were immigrants!”

  He leaned forward. “What does your mother’s family have to do with what you’re investigating?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, bewildered. “I don’t think they have anything to do with the missing people,” she added, sounding a little uncertain now, “but they—well, do you remember telling me about the Sea Princess? I found a copy in the Palace Library, and an earlier version that was slightly different. And this morning, I was in the Public Library. Apparently, the original edition of the Tale wasn’t a children’s story at all.”