Page 26

Showing uncharacteristic consideration, Mirryn jumped to her rescue and said, “I’d much rather hear about your abduction last night. I can’t believe no one came to get me — I missed hearing all about it.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to ask,” the queen said, concern in her gaze as she peered at the side of Kiva’s face. “How’s your head feeling today?”

“Much better,” Kiva answered.

“Those Silverthorn healers are worth their weight in gold,” Ariana said.

“Speaking of gold,” Mirryn said, her eyes lighting with passion as she turned to her mother. “I’m thinking blue and gold as the color scheme for my party. What do you think?”

Kiva felt as if she’d missed a step, but the queen was nodding slowly, a thoughtful look on her face.

“I’ll tell the decorators,” Ariana said. Seeing Kiva’s confusion, she shared, “It’s Mirry’s birthday in just under a fortnight. She’s having a masquerade here at the palace to celebrate.”

“The weather kept us trapped in the mountains longer than expected,” Mirryn told Kiva. “I’ve been running around like a headless chicken since returning, organizing all the details.”

“You haven’tonlybeen organizing the party,” Ariana said with a sly smile. “I hear you’ve also been staying up until all hours writing letters to this mystery girlfriend of yours. Will we finally get to meet her for your birthday?”

Mirryn brushed crumbs off her lap. “Since she’s not answering my missives, and her last one said she thought it best if we break up, I can only assume she won’t be coming.”

Ariana’s face fell. “Oh, Mirry. I’m sorry. I know how happy she made you.”

“Only fools find their happiness in others,” Mirryn said, her expression hard, but Kiva could see how hurt she was. Ariana saw it as well and moved to sit beside the princess, reaching for her hands.

“Be that as it may,” the queen said quietly, “there’s someone perfect out there for you, my beautiful daughter. I promise you that.”

Mirryn looked away, but not before Kiva saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “And now I’ve lost her.”

“Darling,” Ariana whispered, leaning forward to hug her daughter.

Kiva averted her gaze, fighting the sting of jealousy, oflonging. It had been over ten years since she’d felt the loving touch of a mother. Seeing Ariana embrace Mirryn left a tightness in her chest, along with the painful knowledge that she would never have that again.

Mirryn cleared her throat and pulled away, wiping under her eyes and reclaiming her teacup. Not looking at anyone, she declared, “I think we should use Chef Laveau for the catering, but I want the cake to come from Euphorium. Nuru is a master when it comes to flavor and design.”

Seeing how much her daughter was struggling with her lost love, Ariana allowed the change of topic and simply said, “I agree. They’ve both proven themselves highly capable at our past celebrations.”

Together, the queen and princess launched back into discussing the masquerade, brainstorming ideas for decorations, music, and menus. Kiva remained mostly silent, resolutely ignoring the sympathy she felt at seeing the sadness lurking in Mirryn’s eyes, and answering any questions with whatever she thought the royals wanted to hear. She was just considering how best to remove herself from the discussion when the door to the River Room opened and a burst of activity flew inside.

Two bursts, actually.

Tipp and Oriel, on a break from their studies.

Behind them walked Caldon, Naari, and Jaren, the latter of whom looked particularly good in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his corded forearms drawing her shameless attention.

“You’re h-here!” Tipp cried, running straight for Kiva and interrupting her blatant staring.

“Tipp,” she chided when he bounced onto the couch beside her, “remember your manners.”

“Oh, r-right,” he said, jumping back up to his feet, before sitting down again much slower.

“That’s not what I —” Kiva broke off with a sigh. “Never mind.”

Everyone over the age of eleven chuckled, but Kiva’s attention was snared by Prince Oriel when he shyly held out a flower — a snowblossom.

“For me?” Kiva asked.

Oriel nodded at the ground, his cheeks pink. “I’ve been practicing my magic, and Jaren said they’re your favorite.”

Kiva glanced up to find a soft smile on Jaren’s face. She’d only shared her love for the winter-white flowers after they’d escaped Zalindov, during a moment of reflection when she’d considered the one he’d created out of nothing down in the tunnels. To this day, she couldn’t remember if she’d favored the blossoms before then, or only afterward.