Page 49

No, I wasn’t.

Seryu’s strand and mine had been knotted once, tied so closely by fate that we had almost been bound forever. Now I wasn’t sure whether they would ever cross again.

The taste in my mouth was bittersweet, and I swallowed hard, finally answering: “I will be.”

I will be. I pulled myself to my feet and wrung my skirt of seawater. “Come, Kiki, it’s time to go home.”

Sand kneaded between my toes as I hiked across the beach, chasing the rolling hills in the distance, the curved red roofs that peeked out from behind a sprawling wall of pine trees.

Gindara. The palace. Home.

In a few hours, I’d be back. Maybe in time for lunch with my brothers—and Father, whom I hadn’t seen in over a year.

Look! Kiki cried, spying ships. Your father’s sent the navy to greet you!

An entire fleet was assembled behind the sea cliffs, crowding Kiata’s coastline with brilliant red sails and banners.

My throat tightened. I replied in a low voice, “Those are A’landan ships.”

I clambered up the dunes to higher ground and shielded my eyes from the sun, squinting to figure out why A’landan ships were docked on Kiatan shores. But it was impossible to see from so far away.

Nine Hells, Kiki uttered. Has Kiata been conquered?

Six months ago, when I left, relations with A’landi had grown increasingly volatile. Had the situation escalated while I was in the dragon realm?

“It’s too early to make assumptions,” I replied as calmly as I could, but my fists were clenched at my sides. Answers would come once I reached Gindara.

Or sooner.

In the middle distance, a group of men were calling my name. “Princess Shiori!”

The coast’s keen winds distorted their voices, but I recognized their crimson-feathered helmets. I’d grown up surrounded by them.

My father’s sentinels.

Relief washed over me. I straightened my back and squared my shoulders, trying to summon an air of royalty. There was little I could do about the sand clinging to my cheeks or the kisses of algae in my hair, but I could at least stand like a princess.

“Princess Shiori’anma?” the captain asked. He and his men kept their distance, and their hands were not far from their swords.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame him for questioning who I was. I looked like I’d been spat out from the sea, and I still wore the robes of the dragon court. Though they were stained and wrinkled, their gossamer layers were undeniably from another world, sparkling with pearls. And there was that bolt of white in my hair.

“It’s me,” I confirmed. “Shiori’anma.”

At the familiar sound of my voice, the sentinels bowed as one, and the captain relaxed his stance, slightly.

“Forgive us for asking, Your Highness,” he said in a careful tone. “We’ve been stationed here for months to await your return. We were told to expect you, but we didn’t know where or when or…”

His voice trailed, but an unspoken how lingered in the air.

How had I come back, the sentinels were surely wondering, without ship or mount?

And where had I been? The men were striving hard not to stare at my dress, but I could read their bafflement easily.

I put on a smile. “I didn’t have to wait long. Thank you.”

The captain cleared his throat. “We should have found you sooner, but with the arrival of the A’landans—”

“Yes, I saw the ships down by the cliffs,” I interrupted. “Are we at war?”