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“Well, we can’t have that.”

Curtis took my hand in his. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Word spread fast, helped along by Comfort. She and I sat up all night, analyzing and re-analyzing every word, every moment, that I told her about. Just as I knew she would, she was eager to abuse Aria for making a play for Curtis. “Just because she is going to be a queen doesn’t mean she is queen of the world!”

She gushed over Curtis’ standing up for our relationship, to Aria and again to Father. She said I had found my knight in shining armor. Then made me tell the story of our first kiss at least a dozen times. I didn’t mind. I loved remembering it.

We were the sole topic of gossip for weeks. Everyone said that they knew it was only a matter of time, that they had already thought we were a couple, that it didn’t surprise them in the least. Busy as he was, Curtis would always clear his schedule after dinner each evening so he could spend time with me. We would go on long walks around the moat, or through the gardens, or would ride our horses to secluded areas so we could be alone.

Each day seemed like a dream. Everything fell into place and seemed so perfect. I had a happy home life; my parents adored each other and loved us girls. Comfort was the best sister a girl could wish for, always willing to stay up late and giggle with me or help me fix my hair, and always took my side. Due to Father’s status, our family was respected, financially well off, and wanted for nothing. I was on a trajectory to have a successful career. I was in a relationship with my best friend, a prince no less! Curtis constantly bragged about me and made me feel like I was the best part of his life. When we weren’t studying or traveling together, we were playing pranks on Hubert, or sneaking in kisses when no one was looking. It seemed like nothing would ever go wrong.

PART 2

CHAPTER 13

“Make sure your elbow isn’t too high!” the archery instructor snapped.

Everyone on our row adjusted their arms. Sweat trickled down my back as I held my bowstring taut, waiting for the command to release my arrow. It was summer again. A full year had passed since I had been granted a position as court linguist. It had been the best year of my life. I was confident in my translating abilities and traveled with Father and Curtis constantly. Comfort had finished her final year of finishing school and was a highly sought-after tutor for music, dancing, etiquette, and sewing. She and Mother were lauded as the epitome of ladylike class.

Despite Hubert’s constant cynical predictions that we would break up, Curtis and I were still crazy about each other. Even Father, who had initially vowed to distrust any boy that showed interest in me, would routinely go fishing with Curtis on the short days of travel between countries. It always warmed my heart to see my two favorite men in the world getting along so well. Curtis also became just as familiar as one of the family; in the evenings, he would sit beside me on the sofa as we recounted the day’s events, listen as Father told stories, would join his tenor voice to my alto and Mother’s soprano as Comfort plucked at her harp.

The only thing that had changed was that Aria’s betrothal to Hubert had been pushed back several years, and we were now required to travel with an entourage of guards every time we went into Avivia. Locals near the borders of our countries were growing increasingly angry about the other side of the border’s residents encroaching on their territory, and claimed that they were being cheated out of land and resources. There had been several scuffles and even a few casualties. But the Council was optimistic that a goodwill trip to deliver supplies and offering to listen to their struggles would solve the entire matter.

“Release!”

We all fired our arrows. I was no archery master, but I could hit a target well enough.

“My muscles are all seized up,” I complained to Curtis. The archery instructor was notorious for having us hold the ready position for an outrageously long time.

“Does that mean I get to give you a shoulder rub later?” Curtis asked, a sly, playful expression sliding over his face.

“Quiet over there!” the instructor barked.

“Lovebirds,” someone else in the class muttered, but Curtis and I heard. We grinned at each other.

Our instructor kept us hard at work until every second of his class time was exhausted. As I put away my quiver and bow, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension. “Why do they even teach girls archery when we can’t compete in tournaments or go on the hunting trips?” I asked.

“In case we are under siege,” replied Curtis knowingly. “Just imagine, if us menfolk ever were to fall in battle and an army came to take over, they would then have to deal with an angry horde of women armed to the teeth.”

I tried to imagine Mother ever ducking out from behind a window, rapidly shooting arrows at an oncoming legion. The idea was preposterous. “Well, you better never fall in battle!” I said. “I like having you around.”

Curtis grinned at me. “Don’t worry. I will make sure you never have to use those arrows to defend yourself. I am here for that.” We held hands and walked back across the grounds.

CHAPTER 14

Our next trip to Avivia was to be one of service and goodwill. Aria was determined to appease her restless subjects by the border. She was preparing in earnest to take the throne and wanted to win their allegiance. I felt like she was a highly competent leader. She cared about her people and wanted the best for them. She worked tirelessly to ensure that all her subjects were employed and fed.

Father had suggested a tour of the kingdom during which Aria and Islandrians together showed a unified front and gave out supplies to the villages. It was a common practice in our country, usually undertaken by Curtis. It was one of the primary reasons that he was so popular.

When Father, Curtis, and I reached Avivia along with all the guards, we found Aria in good spirits, excited that she would be able to reach out to her people and show some support. We had wagons packed with food, clothes, tools, and gifts for those we met, and looked forward to being able to listen to their concerns. Knowing what success these trips had in Islandria, we were confident that the people would be overjoyed to see us and receive the gifts.

Curtis, Aria, and I traveled at the front of the caravan, with Father, several delegates, and another translator bringing up the rear. The guards would follow further behind to show that we were friendly. We certainly didn’t want to give the idea that we were trying to use an army to look intimidating. Our first stop was at a small fishing village near the castle. Curtis was eager to talk with the locals, and his dreadful Avivian grammar coupled with his heavy Islandrian accent made him most popular with the small children, who crowded around him, giggling about his pronunciation and trying to get him to say complicated words.

Aria discussed the current issues with the adults. Many expressed concerns about the growing population and limited land, and about the Islandrians being hostile toward their families and friends closer toward the border. But being far from the border, close to the castle, and after we had distributed some gifts, everyone seemed content with our presence.

Our tour of the kingdom was to take a week, and as the days slowly passed, I noticed a trend. The closer to the Islandrian border we got, the less receptive the locals were to us being there. Aria and the other members of the Avivian Council had to head up the procession, since the Islandrian lighter skin earned us dirty looks and fists shaken at us. With every village we left, my anxiety grew. But we were nearly done. Just three days left, and we would be able to go home. Just two more days. One more day, and we would be able to leave and go back to Islandria where I would feel safe again.

I will never forget the dreadful last day of our trip. We were on our way to visit one of the last towns early in the morning, with Curtis, Father, and I bringing up the rear of the wagon train, when we heard yells and screams from the front of the caravan. Father spurred his horse into a gallop, and raced to the front to find out what was wrong. It didn’t take long for me to find out.