Galo covered a laugh with a cough. His mother let out a deeply annoyed sigh and strode back inside.
“I’d better go,” he said, grabbing his sword and handing it to Galo. He snatched his coat from the ground, shaking the dirt out.
“Good luck,” Galo said, then frowned. “Is that the appropriate thing to say in this situation?”
Cas lifted one shoulder. There wasn’t much to say to someone who was headed out to meet the woman he’d been ordered to marry. Try not to vomit might have been the best choice.
He gave Galo a tight smile and hopped up the steps, grabbing the handle of the tall wooden door. He threw it open, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting in the staff dining room. To his left, a boy backed out of the kitchen door, the sound of clanging pans and yells drifting in from behind him. He held a tray of pastries, and he came to an abrupt stop when he spotted the prince.
Cas nodded at the boy, striding past him through the far door and into the hallway. Sunlight streamed in from the wide windows to his right, and the walls in this corridor were almost pink in the afternoon light. Later, they would look red. Every corridor was painted a different color, and when he turned a corner he found two staff members arranging bunches of yellow flowers against the bright-green walls.
The castle buzzed with noise as he walked into the foyer. More flowers lined the banister of the staircase, and a staff member was wrapping blue ribbons around them. The air was full of anticipation and excitement as the castle staff prepared for the arrival of the new princess. Their bright faces just filled Cas with more dread.
His mother and father stood in front of the door at the main entrance, and he stopped next to them.
“You’re all dirty,” his mother said, taking his jacket from him. She beat at it with her hand, trying to remove lingering dirt. “Did you have to spar with that guard before she arrived?”
The king clapped his son on the arm. “He’s just nervous. Working off some energy.”
“I am not.” Yes, he was.
Maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Cas had always known he’d marry someone his parents chose. He’d known, yet he hadn’t quite prepared himself for how it would actually feel. Like his stomach was going to drop into his feet and his head would explode from the pounding.
What was the word for that?
“This is as good as it’s going to get,” his mother said, handing him his coat. He slipped it on.
“Try and talk to her?” the king said. “It makes people uncomfortable when you just stand there quietly.”
“I don’t always have something to say.”
“Then think of something,” his father said, exasperated.
The queen walked to the door, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on. Both of you.” She let the king slip past her and put a hand on Cas’s arm. “Don’t worry, Cas. I know she will be quite taken with you.”
He shook her hand off but tried to smile like he believed her. Quite taken with you. How ridiculous. It was a treaty marriage, and Mary knew as much about him as he did about her. Nothing.
They marched outside into the sunlight, Cas trailing behind his parents. About ten staff members and several members of Cas’s guard were waiting in two neat rows.
He walked down the castle steps and took his place next to his father as the gate began to open. He clasped his hands behind his back, then pulled on each finger of his left hand until he felt the knuckle crack. His heart was pounding so loudly it vibrated in his ears. He tried to fix his face into a neutral expression.
A dirt path ran from the castle to the front gate, flanked on either side by lush green grass and perfectly trimmed square hedges. Two guards pulled open the iron gate, scurrying out of the way as Lera’s royal escorts came through on their horses.
Behind them was a small carriage that had seen better days. Dirt and mud stuck to the wheels, though that was to be expected after the journey through the Lera jungle. The body was plain gray, with a glass window on either side. The windows were open, and the one closest to Cas looked like it might fall off its hinges at any moment. A curtain had been pulled over the open space, obscuring the inside from view.
A young man in a Vallos uniform sat on the seat at the front of the carriage, reins in hand. Cas expected several more guards to follow him, but he was the only one in Vallos yellow. Strange. Cas always took several guards with him when he traveled.
The Vallos guard pulled the horses to a stop and jumped off the carriage, tugging on the ends of his jacket. His hands were covered in scars, like he’d been burned, and Cas tried not to stare as the man opened the door to the carriage. He’d never seen flesh that mangled before.
A hand emerged from the carriage first, and the guard took it, stepping back as a dark head appeared.
Princess Mary jumped out of the carriage, disregarding the step and kicking up some dirt in the process.
She was tall with long legs and wore a yellow dress that stretched tightly across her chest. It was also too short, revealing a bit of ankle, and Cas wondered if she’d recently grown taller or just had a terrible seamstress. A few strands of her dark hair had come loose from their tie, giving her a wild, disheveled look.
“Rumors of her beauty were . . . exaggerated,” his father muttered.
Cas actually had known one thing about Mary, as her parents had written before they died, saying she was “beautiful” and “lovely” and “so pretty and delicate.” But the girl in front of them wasn’t any of those things. She was sharp angles and hard lines. Nothing about her seemed delicate at all.
The guard sort of waved his hand in Mary’s direction. He clearly wasn’t the one who usually introduced her. “Princess Mary Anselo of Vallos.” Cas had thought they might refer to her as “Queen Mary,” but technically she hadn’t ascended to the Vallos throne following her parents’ death. Vallos belonged to Cas’s father now.
Mary’s gaze immediately slid to Cas. She had dark, intense eyes, framed by long lashes. The skin beneath them was a bit dark as well, making her look either tired or angry. Maybe both.
Cas bowed his head slightly in greeting, then focused his attention on the trees in the distance. He was less likely to jump out of his skin if he didn’t make eye contact.
The herald stepped forward and swept his arm out toward the king. “His Majesty, King Salomir Gallegos. Her Majesty, Queen Fabiana Gallegos. And His Highness, Prince Casimir Gallegos.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mary,” his mother said, bowing her head, then stepping forward and clasping Mary’s hands in her own. The girl seemed surprised by this, and she leaned back, as if she wanted to run away.
Cas couldn’t blame her. He was contemplating running himself.
“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” Mary said quietly.
The king beamed at her in that way he always did with women. “A pleasure.”
One side of Mary’s mouth turned up in something like a smile. Or a grimace. Cas found it difficult to read the expressions on her face.
“This is my guard, Aren,” Mary said as the young man took a step forward.
“Did you bring only one?” The king’s tone held a note of suspicion.
“Many of the Vallos guards have been sent to hunt down the Ruined,” Mary said. “A few more escorted me to the Lera border, but I thought it best to send them back where they were needed.” Her lips did something that still wasn’t quite a smile. “You have so many excellent guards here in Lera.”
“How true.” The king grinned broadly as he beckoned to Julio, the captain of Cas’s guard. “Take Aren inside and show him his quarters.”
Aren threw his bag over his shoulder and followed Julio into the castle.
Both his parents turned to Cas, like they expected him to say something, and his mouth went dry.
Mary stared at him as if she expected something as well, and he had the sudden urge to never speak again. He squarely met her gaze and immediately felt as if they were having a competition to see who wo
uld become uncomfortable first. Cas was confident he would win that competition, every time.
“Excellent,” the queen said. The king widened his eyes at his son. His mother extended her arm, slipping it through Mary’s as she steered her toward the castle. “Will your things be along shortly?”
“Everything I have is in that carriage.” She didn’t say it like she was ashamed of it. Cas took another glance at the small carriage. There couldn’t have been more than one trunk in there.
“That’s all right, it’s nice to start fresh,” the queen said smoothly. “I’ll have someone sent up immediately to get your measurements. I heard you’re very fond of dresses?”
“Who isn’t?” Mary asked.
Cas watched as they climbed the front steps and disappeared through the massive wooden doors. He’d said nothing to her at all, he realized. Maybe he should have at least asked her how her journey was, or if she needed anything.
The king sighed. “I suppose you could have done worse than Mary.”
“We should ask the priest to say that at the wedding,” Cas said. “‘And now we unite Casimir and Mary. They both could have done worse.’”
THREE
A KNOCK ON the door made Em’s eyes fly open. She gasped and scrambled upright, the sheets tangled between her feet. She rolled off the bed, yelping and hitting the ground with a thud.
She winced, pushing her hair out of her face. She was surprised she’d fallen asleep at all. She’d still been awake when the sun started peeking through the curtains, unable to sleep in a castle full of her enemies. She’d spent almost a year planning to infiltrate the castle, but the reality of being surrounded by people who would kill her if they discovered her true identity was more unsettling than anticipated.
“Your Highness?” a voice called from behind the door.
She got to her feet, straightening her nightgown. “Yes?”
The door opened to reveal Davina, one of her maids, carrying a tray of food. One of her maids. The life these people led was ridiculous. Em’s mother hadn’t employed maids.
A maid is a potential spy, her mother used to say.
Davina held up the tray. “I brought your breakfast, Your Highness. And the queen has requested your presence.” She put the tray on the table in the corner and turned back to Em, a smile on her young, pretty face. There was one knife on the tray, and Em studied it, trying to judge how sharp it was. Three quick steps across the room and she could reach around Davina for the knife to jab it in her throat before she knew what was happening. Five seconds, tops.
Em shook the thought away. She didn’t need to kill her maid at the moment. “Requested my presence for what?”
“The wedding dress fitting, Your Highness.”
“Oh. Right.” She tried not to look like the thought of her wedding dress made her want to throw up.
“And the Union Battle is this afternoon,” Davina said. “The queen wants to do the fitting first.”
Was she supposed to know what the Union Battle was? It didn’t sound good, whatever it was.
“Of course,” Em said. “I’ll get ready quickly.”
Davina made a move like she was going to stay and help, and Em shook her head.
“I’m fine for now. I’ll call you in when I’m almost ready?”
Davina hesitated, then walked to the door. “I’ll wait right outside?”
“Yes, please,” Em said.
Em sighed as Davina disappeared through the door. The maid had left tea and a thick slice of oddly colored bread on the tray. Em broke off a chunk and popped it in her mouth. It was sweet and delicious, and she quickly finished the whole piece. She hadn’t had much good food for the past year.
She looked around her room. She’d rarely even had a bed for the past year, and now she had a sitting room, an office, and a bedroom. The large window on one wall showed off a lovely view of the gardens. The room had been decorated in blue, Lera’s official color. The chair in the corner was blue, the tapestry on the wall was blue, and the sheets on the bed were blue.
It was all pristine and beautiful, and Em wanted to rip it to shreds. They lived like this while the Ruined were forced out of their homes and had to move camp every few days just to stay alive?
She’d have to make sure to burn down the castle before she was done. She could still smell the smoke from the day the king had burned her home to the ground, killed her mother, and taken her sister. It was only right to repay the favor.
She drained her tea and pulled out a hideous pink dress of Mary’s. The weather in Vallos was much cooler than Lera, and the people were often completely covered from neck to toe. Mary’s dresses were long-sleeved, stiff, and made more for function than fashion. They were wildly depressing.
Like the dress she’d worn yesterday, this one felt too short and tight as she pulled it on. But the fullness of the skirt hid the ill fit well enough.
Her necklace hung in the center of her chest, and she closed her fingers around it for a moment. The silver O was for Olivia, and she’d considered leaving it behind when she became Mary. But she’d worn the necklace every day since returning to the remains of her castle and finding it among the rubble. If she ever found Olivia, she would return it to her.
When she found Olivia. She didn’t know why the king had taken her sister instead of simply killing her, but nothing would stop her from figuring it out and rescuing Olivia.
She let go of the necklace, the pendant falling against her chest. If anyone asked, she could simply say it was a circle. A gift from her parents.
She pulled her hair back, looping it into a simple knot behind her head. Davina returned and buttoned the back of the dress, then escorted her out of her rooms.
Aren stood near her door with two guards, outfitted in a blue-and-white Lera guard uniform. She had to resist the urge to rush over to him. Aren had been by her side constantly for the past year, and she felt as though she’d lost a limb without him nearby.
Em wanted to ask him how he was settling in, if he’d found out anything, if anyone suspected something odd, but Davina quickly brushed past him and the other guards. The maid did take a quick glance over her shoulder at Aren, a blush creeping over her cheeks when he smiled at them. Em suppressed a laugh. The list of girls blushing over Aren never ended.
Em and Davina rounded several corners, and Em immediately lost track of where they were. The hallways were all the same except for the vibrant colors on the walls that changed each time they turned. The castle was laid out in a square, so at least it was a comfort to know that when she inevitably got lost, she could keep turning corners and end up back where she started.
Deep blue rugs ran down the center of the floors, and light spilled across the floors from the large windows. The windows were open and faced the east, so the ocean was barely visible. A cool, salty breeze blew through the hallways. Lera was much warmer than Vallos or Ruina, the sky completely cloudless. She could see why the people of Lera had forced out the Ruined generations ago so that they could remain. She wouldn’t want to leave this place either.
Davina stopped and rapped on a large wooden door. It was quickly opened by a young woman, and the maid scurried away.
The woman escorted Em inside. The queen stood in the center of the room, her bright-red gown in contrast to the cream-colored outfits the two women next to her wore.
The large room featured racks of dresses, pants, blouses, and a wall entirely of shoes. The queen’s closet. She couldn’t help but hope that she’d get to experience that kind of wardrobe during her stay. If she had to deal with these people, she could at least wear some beautiful clothes while doing it.
Em scanned the room for weapons. A mirror was attached to one wall, but it was too large for her to break. There was a large platter of fruit on the table, and the white ceramic plate was likely sturdy enough to do some damage when smashed against a skull. One, three, six steps and she could weave around the maids to get to the far corner of the room—grab the plate, duc
k a maid, smash it against the queen’s head, spin around and push a maid away, use an edge of the broken plate to cut a jagged line across the queen’s throat. Dead.
“Mary,” the queen said, extending her arms to her.
Em clenched her fingers into a fist, fighting back the urge to scream. She hadn’t counted on how difficult it would be to stand in the presence of the people who had destroyed her life. When she’d stepped out of the carriage yesterday, she’d almost grabbed Aren’s sword and swung it at the king’s head.
She took in a slow breath. Calm. Steady. Her mother was the scariest woman she’d ever known—the scariest woman most people had ever known—and it was partly because she never lost her temper. If she wanted to kill you, you didn’t know it until the knife was already in your gut.
Em needed to be like her mother right now.
Perhaps the queen realized Em didn’t want to be hugged, because she took both of Em’s hands instead and squeezed them. When she smiled, the small half-circle scar on her left cheek moved. It was the only interesting thing on an otherwise boringly beautiful face.
“How was your first night? Were your rooms adequate?”
“They were perfect, Your Majesty,” Em said.
“Please, call me Fabiana,” the queen said, dropping Em’s hands. “We’ll be family soon.”
“Of course.” Fabiana was a terrible name, so Em would be happy to call her by it.
“What do you think of Lera so far?” the queen asked. “Different than Vallos, isn’t it? Less dreary.”
“Much less,” Em said, noting the subtle dig at Vallos. “And how does Lera compare to Olso? I hear it’s cold there.”
Fabiana barely lifted one eyebrow. “Lera is less . . . rigid.”
“I’m sure it is.” Em had never visited Olso, but she knew the warriors—the group of men and women who protected the country—well. Fabiana used to be one of them, before she defected to Lera, bringing secret information with her. She was probably the most famous traitor in all of Olso. Em had reminded the warriors of Fabiana’s betrayal when she approached them about partnering with her. They’d happily agreed to join Em’s mission.