by K. M. Shea
Briar sincerely doubted her grandfather had cried once since the day he was born, but she understood the sentiment behind Prince Consort Filippo’s words. “At least we have a future we can build together,” she said.
She was rewarded with a bright smile. “Exactly! Now, I’m afraid I must release you to the wolves. You have become so skilled at dancing in such a short time everyone will complain if I continue to hog you.”
“I’m afraid you are too kind in your estimation of my skills,” Briar said.
“Nonsense. You have learned in one hour what took me weeks to bumble through,” he said. “If anyone becomes too overwhelming, adjust the netting on your hair. That was always your mother’s signal to me when I should approach her.” Prince Consort Filippo’s smile turned fond. “I daresay Giuseppe has a gaggle of guards and Magic Knights trained on you. I’ll spread word of the signal, and if you need rescuing, someone will step in.”
“Thank you, Father,” Briar said as the song came to an end.
Prince Consort Filippo smiled. “Anything for you, my daughter. Ahh, here is the perfect partner for you. Sir Franco!”
The young man Briar had met in the woods smiled—flashing his dimples. “Good evening, Your Highnesses.”
Briar relaxed. Based on what little she knew of him, she thought Franco was a kind soul, so he likely wouldn’t mind her fledgling dance skills.
Her good humor turned wry, however, when her father continued with the introduction. “Sir Franco is a Magic Knight of Sole—I believe he was knighted a year or two after Isaia. Is that correct, Sir Franco?”
He was a what? She almost gaped in her surprise.
“It is indeed, Your Highness,” Franco said with his easy-going smile.
Prince Consort Filippo kissed Briar’s temple. “Enjoy yourself, Daughter, and take care of her, Sir Franco.”
Franco bowed. “Of course, Your Highness.”
After her father slipped away, Franco-the-Magic-Knight offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”
Briar smiled with dry humor. “Why not?” She took his arm as the music began again, thankful when Franco took a decisive lead in the dance.
“You seem reflective, Your Highness,” he said.
“I’m just wondering how many young men I met in the woods were actually random young men and not Magic Knights of Sole.”
Franco laughed. “Isaia and I probably deserve that, but do not fear. He and I were the only ones alerted to you, and I wasn’t brought into your retinue until this spring. I wasn’t supposed to interact with you. You caught me when I was about to do a sweep of the forest.”
Briar shivered as she turned in a circle, recalling the hellhound and its flashing red eyes. “Was I really in that much danger?”
Franco glanced to the front of the room, where Princess Alessia and Prince Consort Filippo laughed and King Giuseppe brooded. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, but Isaia said you’re grounded and reliable, and I think it would be a greater harm if you didn’t know. You were safe, up until about two years ago. We—the Magic Knights—detected an influx of dangerous magical creatures. It started out country wide, but over the last year, we noticed the area grew smaller and smaller.”
“Let me guess: they centralized in Sir Roberto’s lands and the forest where I live?” Briar asked.
Franco was silent as he took her hands and they glided under the joint, raised arms of the other dancers. When they joined the line, he renewed the conversation, though he kept his voice lowered. “We picked up a sorcerer a few miles south of Sir Roberto’s lands. He confirmed they were searching for you. You were never found, but after the incident with the hellhound, it seemed that it wouldn’t take much longer for them to find you. That was why it was decided to bring you back to Ciane.”
“I see.” Briar frowned as she mulled over the facts. “Thank you for your frankness.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m glad to see Isaia is right about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most girls would have swooned or gone hysterical to face such facts.” Franco led her away from the other dancers and twirled her twice. “And I don’t think many would calmly accept their curse.”
“Oh, I haven’t accepted it,” Briar snorted. “Not in the least. But if I let myself panic, it will do nothing to improve the situation, and it will only serve to make me fatigued and cloud my judgment.”
Franco flashed his dimples again. “You are a treasure, Your Highness.”
Briar smiled slyly at him. “There is no need to flirt with me now that I know your true intensions, Sir Franco.”
Franco laughed outright.
Briar, noticing that King Giuseppe and Princess Alessia had joined the dance, decided a change in topic would be prudent. “So when you said your horse disliked strangers, what you meant is that it is the trained warhorse of a magic knight. I assume the horses have some sort of special training? Isaia’s Valor is infamously bad tempered as well.”
“It’s the training, but also the horses themselves. Our mounts are all from a particular herd. Rumor has it the Queen of Hearts bartered for elven horses when she founded the knights.”
“I would believe it. I’ve heard that certain bloodlines of elf horses fight as well as a fully trained warrior.”
“That’s quite true. The Elf King provides the Farset King with some horses, and I’ve seen them in my travels…”
Briar passed the rest of the evening in a mostly amused state. Many of the men sent to dance with her were overly flirtatious (sons of nobles) or painfully respectful (Magic Knights). She was not surprised that a small handful of young men seemed to hold her in disdain. She knew from her studies that King Giuseppe was relatively popular, but he still had some naysayers.
She was surprised, however, by the vehemence of their disdain.
“You are a graceful dancer, considering your rusticated childhood,” her dance partner—one of the disdainful men—said with a barely contained sneer.
Briar gave him her most dazzling smile. “One must be agile to chase after chickens.”
Her dancing partner couldn’t be bothered to look at her. “While hearing of your agricultural exploits is darling, it must be hoped you plan to improve yourself so you may become an acceptable monarch. Sole—if you did not know—has always been esteemed by other countries for the power and quality of our royal family. Until now, that is.”
Briar was torn between purposely stepping on his foot and touching her hairnet to extricate herself from the repulsive boor. “Funny,” she said. “I was under the impression it was the Magic Knights and the good they do that served as our greatest mark. How silly of me to think that the rest of the continent would value men risking their lives to preserve justice and peace in a time when dark magic seems unsettlingly common.”
“You are surprisingly jovial considering your life hangs in balance,” he said. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that anyone around you could set off your curse?”
“You mean they could smuggle in a spindle and prick me?” Briar asked. The thought hadn’t occurred to her, and it was rather disturbing, but she wasn’t about to let the bully think he had frightened her. “I would hope Sole gentry would be more refined than to stoop to such a low-brow tactic.”
Her dancing partner smirked. “Some may be tempted.”
“If that is so, I’m afraid I must correct your previous remark. I had quite the refined childhood in comparison to the apparent savagery that marks Sole’s so-called nobles,” Briar said.
The grip he had on her waist tightened to the point of pain, and Briar started to more seriously consider touching her hair net. His brittle smile remained in place. “Careful, Your Highness. I would not seek to anger anyone if I were in your place—and not only because of the curse.”
Unimpressed by the cagey warning, Briar scoffed.
“You may be a princess and a daughter of royal blood,” he continued. “But King Giuseppe is predictably traditional. Though you are
his kin, I can assure you he does not approve of your…unusual upbringing. You are not likely to ever possess much power.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Briar smiled sunnily. “When I become queen, I will have absolutely no power.”
“You will see,” he promised, his eyes as soulless as a snake’s.
Briar’s last strand of patience snapped. Unwilling to deal with the bully any longer, she reached up to adjust her hairnet.
Her fingers barely brushed the delicate weaving when a familiar voice spoke. “If you excuse the interruption, I have business with the princess.”
She nearly slumped with relief, but she couldn’t help the playful grin she shot Isaia.
Isaia ignored it and stared at the hand Briar’s bully had on her waist.
The young man released her and stepped away, raising both hands. “Why of course, sir knight. Steal her away—though I don’t know that anyone would miss her.” He walked away before Briar could verbally smack him.
“Gentry? Pah! Nobles? Hah! By Mouse’s giant buttocks, I never dreamed the lords of this country could be so foul tempered!” She scowled at the other dancers, then sighed. “Thanks for the help, Isaia. Come, we better get out of the way, or we’ll make it awkward for all the other dancers.”
Isaia accompanied her, a quiet, reassuring presence at her side. “Are you well?” he asked when they slipped into the sidelines.
Briar tried to discreetly stretch her arms. “I haven’t made an utter fool of myself and winged anybody too badly. I think that’s about the best we can hope for right now—though based on King Giuseppe’s looks, I will be surprised if I don’t have a dance instructor by the end of the week.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Isaia said.
Curious, Briar glanced up at her childhood friend.
His expression was unreadable as his eyes combed the party goers. “All of this was a surprise. Is it too much?”
Briar stooped slightly as she rubbed the back of her neck. Was it too much? “It has been a shock—not without its unpleasantness…but there are also advantages. My parents—Nonna is wonderful, but I didn’t know even half of what I was missing. As for everything else, I’m not certain I’ll make a proper princess, but I’ll try not to make a mess of it.”
“You’ll make a perfect queen.”
Surprised, Briar squinted up at him.
The corners of his lips lightly curled up. Almost immediately, the expression was snuffed out, and he returned his attention to the crowd.
Encouraged, Briar clasped her arms behind her back. “Are you going to stay with me here in Ciane?”
“Of course, Your Highness. All Magic Knights of Sole are posted in Ciane, unless sent out on a mission or assignment,” Isaia said—his voice respectfully emotionless.
Briar held in a sigh. Though he might pull the stoic act whenever he notices my heart on my sleeve, he is still my friend. After all, he must have been standing in her shadow in order to reach her as quickly as he did when she brushed her hairnet. Still, it made her heart ache to reach for Isaia and to have him respectfully shut her off.
She caught the thought and mulled it over for a moment. Why was he cutting her off? Briar had assumed as a country knight he was above her and out of reach, but now…. She was a princess, and he was a Magic Knight of Sole—a highly esteemed position.
Above the quiet hum of conversation and the soft tones of the music, Donaigh’s voice was easily heard. “Oooh! If it isn’t young Lord Mario. You are looking more petulant and disagreeable than usual.”
“Hush, Donaigh,” Firra said. “It’s not kind to mock the stupid.”
Briar almost laughed when she realized the pair had cornered the unpleasant young man Isaia had rescued her from.
“Is everything alright, darling?” Princess Alessia asked, her forehead wrinkled with worry as she approached her. “I saw Sir Isaia react, and Mage Donaigh and Mage Firra seem rather…provoked.”
“Everything is fine, Mother.”
Princess Alessia’s delighted smile warmed Briar and motivated her to call her mother by the title more often. “I’m so glad you’re having fun. Come, tell me with whom you danced!”
Briar let her mother pull her away, though she turned around to smile at Isaia.
Isaia acknowledged her with a bow.
He wouldn’t completely wall himself off from me—not when he knows how strange this all is. And he’s too honorable to only pretend to be my friend, so his affection, even if it is merely friendly, is real. So why does he act detached?
Briar shook her head to clear her thoughts. I’ll get him to crack. I have plenty of time, too. Feeling a little better, Briar listened to her mother chatter as she tried to get a glimpse of Donaigh and Firra’s act of vengeance.
Isaia rested a hand on the hilt of his sword as he watched Princess Alessia lead Briar away. No, Princess Rosalinda. A muscle in his cheek twitched involuntarily.
No matter how he tried to mentally—and physically—call his childhood companion by her proper title, he couldn’t do it. She was Briar Rose. The prickly but beautiful name suited her, as opposed to the candy-sweet taste of Rosalinda.
He didn’t pull his eyes away from Briar, even when Franco sidled up to him and clasped him on the shoulder.
“That was a good save, there,” Franco said. “Mario is filled with poison; whatever he was saying to her couldn’t have been kind.”
Isaia momentarily swung his gaze from Briar to the sniveling lord whom Donaigh and Firra were still raking over. “We should watch him.”
“Was he holding the princess too close for your liking?” Franco asked innocently.
Isaia stared his fellow knight down.
“Sorry, that was insensitive of me. But I don’t think his family has any connections with dark magic. He’s just a puffed up noble.”
“Forgive me, but I am not convinced.” Isaia returned his gaze to Briar.
“In any case, I think Princess Rosalinda has managed to win over a few hearts,” Franco said. “That bodes well for her—even if they don’t realize what a smart girl she is and only value her for her beauty.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he too considered Briar. “I think she’ll do well. I had written off half of your descriptions of her, but she has proved my assumptions incorrect. She is quite charming. I will find it an honor to serve her.”
When Isaia yanked his gaze back to Franco, the younger knight rolled his shoulders, then noticed his scrutiny. “Don’t give me that look. You know I’d never have any designs on her—she’s too young for my tastes.”
Isaia never thought he would be grateful that angel-face-Franco always angled after older women, but the time had arrived. (Franco’s particular tastes were especially lucky considering he was exactly the sort of man Briar would have aimed to marry as part of her desire to secure an Easy-and-Carefree-Life.)
Franco hadn’t noticed Isaia’s dismissal and instead sighed like a lovesick-fool. “Now her mother, Princess Alessia? There is a woman confident in her beauty and grace.”
Isaia made no effort to reply and instead saluted when he saw another Magic Knight of Sole—a legendary knight no less—approach them. “Good evening, Sir.”
The knight, Sir Virgilio, the Legendary Knight of the Lance, grinned. “Evening, boys.” He stepped between Isaia and Franco, dropping his arms over their shoulders. “Quite the celebration, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” Franco said. “Everyone appears to be in high spirits.”
“But you two are not?” Virgilio asked.
Franco glanced up at Isaia, who reluctantly spoke. “Though the occasion does call for celebration, I am not certain everyone realizes the worst has yet to come.”
Virgilio nodded. “Indeed. We have to get through the princess’s eighteenth birthday before we can take a holiday. But perhaps her situation is not as dire as you think. Princess Rosalinda does have you, her dog, to watch her, eh?” He smiled with his teeth, but Isaia knew the words were meant to be chiding, not malicious.
He had borne the nickname of “the princess’s dog” since the summer after he was knighted. He hadn’t done a particularly good job veiling his affection for Briar and had been relentlessly ribbed by older knights ever since.
So, Isaia ignored the mock with the ease of familiarity. “She had me to watch her back in the forests, too, and the hellhound still got to her.”
Virgilio’s smirk dropped from his lips, but his humor was still high. “Perhaps, but now she is safely absconded in Ciane. With the majority of us Magic Knights present, and with a veritable fortress caging her in, I believe she is safe. We’ll keep her safe.”
“Yes, sir,” Isaia and Franco chorused.
Virgilio renewed his smile. “Chin up, boys. Only a few months, and then we’ll be through with this.” He smacked them both on the back, then walked on.
Franco rubbed his shoulder. “I believe I’ll take my leave here. I see a particular beauty I wish to praise.”
Isaia glanced in the direction Franco was fixated on. “That beauty is Sir Lucio’s aunt.”
“Indeed. Try to have some fun, Isaia. You don’t have to watch the princess the whole time.” Franco smiled innocently. “Or, if you are so intent on her safety, you could always ask her to dance.”
A frown twitched on Isaia’s lips, but he mutely watched Franco sally off—full of smiles and good cheer.
Unlike Franco and Sir Virgilio, he was not so easily reassured—but not because he feared an evil mage would pop out of the shadows and jab Briar with a spindle. He was more concerned about her new life. Briar was beautiful, charming, and headstrong. While he was deep enough in love to think of such a characteristic as one of her many charms, he knew it was unlikely the nobles would feel the same.
Briar already had enough trouble with the curse looming over her. Facing disapproval and disdain from her courts was a trial he wished to spare her.
But what could he do? He was a magic knight—esteemed, but not powerful enough to shield her in any way except physically. If they were married…but no.