Page 61 of Artemysia

“True power comes from learning to wield a sword yourself.” - Delphine

T he guests accept me as Marchioness Delphine as easily as they shunned me earlier. Now, they flatter me with their compliments. Prince Toryl informs them that I am the daughter of the best weapons master in the land. They all want to order their armory from my father.

How quickly the tides of favor change in an echelon of society where title and power mean more than anything.

At the Academy, merit dictates status. That is my world. It seems simple; it seems right. But who am I to know anything? My understanding of the world changed completely within the two moonrises of the night.

It’s late. The moons must be setting.

But the vultures seek blood and circle around me, jostling for their turn to capture the prince’s attention. An older gentleman decorated with badges presses his way into the circle of noblemen milling around us.

“When you’re king, will you use the Syf to overtake South Kingdom for their precious metals? We need better weapons, and they have stronger materials in their mountains. Not to mention the gold and silver that could be mined…”

My breath stalls as I await Prince Toryl’s answer

He responds with a noncommittal, “It’s my father’s plan, but it’s not feasible if we can’t cross Artemysia.”

“I say we burn down the forest, kill all the Syf.”

Toryl doesn’t even grace the baron with a look. “Your violence is noted, Baron Sannyo.”

I chime in with gossip I’d heard earlier in the night. “Then where would you get the wood to construct the beds you need for all your mistresses, Sannyo?” My title outranks his, and I put him in his place by not using his.

They all laugh.

A spindly older lord speaks up. “What’s really going on here, High Lord? Your father threatens to send Syf to our estates if we disagree with his policies. Do you also plan on ruling by fear?”

The plump, well-dressed man beside him interjects. “And why isn’t our naval program advancing? We need to expand beyond our lands to support our rapid population growth, and since the forest stops us from southern expansion, the seas are the future…”

These men test the young prince.

I understand why he must act the way he does. To maintain order. He was likely trained to keep his emotions close, perhaps even to hide his true personality to not show weakness.

Unlike Stargazer, or even what little I’ve seen of Artemysia, where a ruler is respected, North Kingdom’s politics come with an undercurrent of dissent, and it’s clear there are many here who wish to claw their way to the top without regard for who they must step on.

I can’t hold my tongue against these self-absorbed men. “Perhaps you could answer your own questions if you left your wine cellars more often. True power comes from learning to wield a sword yourself.” I toss in one of my motivational sayings and imagine Riev rolling his eyes.

“Swords woman , what do you know of politics?” The older lord bares yellowed teeth at me. I don’t appreciate how he emphasized woman as if it meant I was somehow inferior.

I meet his watery gaze. “There’s no power when you’re dead. That’s all I know.”

He appears momentarily stunned by my blunt words. His mouth hangs agape, but he quickly recovers and steers the conversation back to the prince. “High Lord, why weren’t there better-trained soldiers to take down that Syf? Our lives were endangered.”

I can feel the disapproval blaring from my eyes at the entitled, narcissistic demand, but Prince Toryl smiles casually, though his leaf-green eyes glint perilously.

“My father is certain it was one of you who released the Syf, but I refuse to believe any of you are capable of such treasonous drama.”

Ah, that must have been what was in the wax-sealed note, since he hasn’t spoken to his father since the attack.

The older lord clears his throat and adjusts his tie, and the others are subdued into silence.

The string music changes, and the guests break off to find their partners for a dance.

Toryl extends a hand and guides me onto the dance floor. I reach up and place a hand on his shoulder, and he clutches my waist, respectful and light.

“This night is not as dull as expected, thanks to you,” he says, holding back a smile.

“I could say the same for you, but you’d take it as flattery.”

“I have a confession,” he says quietly, his lids heavy with a look I’ve seen before in other men before they say something stupid.

“That you noticed me when I first walked in? Don’t say cliché things like that.”

“No. I did—but that’s not my confession.

” He twirls me twice and we join other guests in a synchronized dance.

Thank goodness, it’s one of the easier ones I learned in Artemysia during the afternoon spent as Throg’s dance partner.

At the time, it did little except get my feet stomped on by Throg.

The Syf instructors acted as if we were hopeless, but tonight, Prince Toryl guides me so that I feel like I know what I’m doing.

“Ha, okay good.”

“I never wanted to be king, but it’s my duty.” The boyish shame of his confession doesn’t shock me. I’d sensed there was more to him.

We are alike.

With his coronation at twenty-two, we are the same age, promoted to a position of power and responsibility. Like me, he has other dreams that can never be. Being a ruthless leader doesn’t suit him.

Just as killing doesn’t suit me.

“I wouldn’t either,” I say.

He pauses midstep with an inscrutable look on his face. “Then you’d be the first person in my life to understand that.”

“You have the bearing of a king. You play the role well.”

“It’s just a mask I wear for the sake of order. To follow my father’s rules.”

“I can see that.” I know it all too well. The hiding behind a mask, the suppression of emotions and dreams, the commitment to be someone else for the sake of duty.

“I plan on installing a queen to rule in my stead. If I marry someone clever and strong, I could leave to explore and discover our world. Our Syf world.”

“That shouldn’t be hard. Every woman here would want to be queen.”

He scoffs, disapproving. “Vapid and greedy, the lot of them. None are skilled or capable of what our kingdom needs. Not the way you are. I don’t want to be king, but I have a duty to protect our kingdom and ensure the survival of mankind.

” A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “I’m eternally torn between obligation and what I desire. ”

The music changes. His grip on my waist tightens, and we’re pressed closer together as the crowd crams onto the dance floor. This slower song seems to be a favorite.

His voice lowers, rumbling deep in his throat against my cheek. “Someone like you should be a ruler. What if I offered you a role as my advisor, bestowing the title of queen one day?”

I almost stumble, but he steadies me at the hips.

“You’re that desperate to give away the title? You don’t know me.”

“I’m to choose a future queen in the next year and take over for my father the year after that—it’s the law. I follow my father’s rule, so there you have it.”

“I could take advantage of the position. I could only want riches and status.”

“You wouldn’t. You’re sensible and you do the right thing.”

“I wouldn’t love you.”

“I don’t need love. I don’t need that kind of attachment. Not in a world so unpredictable. I want to explore the world, discover what is beyond our borders, and fuck who I want, unattached. I think you understand that, somehow. You have your reasons for staying unattached, too.”

“You’d be okay living a loveless life? So you can have someone play politics and rule while you are off chasing your passions…”

“Love is a luxury. It’s a trade-off. I need to do what’s best for the kingdom,” Toryl says.

“A luxury?” I echo with disdain. He’s too young to be so jaded, but he’s a realist, like me.

Don’t I tell Throg all the time that love is deadly? I see myself in Toryl. And yet, we are different in one regard. “You’re doing what is best for yourself.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

I don’t want to be like him. “Wouldn’t it be in the best interests of North Kingdom for you to try to be less spoiled and learn to be a better ruler?” I reply, my tone chiding.

He cocks his head. “I’ve never met anyone as impressive as you. Someone like you is what the kingdom needs. You strategize and defend. Pursue diplomacy when needed. Play the game and win. Think of this as a job offer. It’s an appointment, not an offer of love.”

“Job offer. I’m kind of flattered, but also kind of creeped out. My instincts are to knee you below the belt and run away, except I mostly understand your intentions, so your balls are safe.”

His composure collapses and he laughs, throwing his head back. From the dais, the King of the North watches us intently.

Toryl catches his father’s eye and nods.

“He was hoping I’d have chosen by tonight, so he could make an announcement, but I couldn’t.

You’re being offered an opportunity to make a difference.

For an entire kingdom. For all of mankind.

What we’ve learned in the last two decades can change our position in the world. It all depends on how we leverage it. ”

It’s ridiculous, but the chance to make a difference resonates deeply in my heart.

He goes on, taking my hesitation as an opening. “I need someone like you by my side. Fighting, strategizing, planning for the future. You can still have your boy toy Riev on the side. I wouldn’t mind.”

I’d never consider such an extreme act, marrying him to be queen, but that kind of power could mean great change. Instead of killing one Syf at a time, fighting for my life on a daily basis, I’d make decisions that might save both kingdoms.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing to consider.

The prince curves over me so he whispers against my ear.

“We both understand the responsibilities we carry. To be someone else for the sake of others. To be something on the outside that is nothing like who you are on the inside. To sacrifice what you want for the lives of others. You understand me. Beyond the stiff prick everyone else sees.”

My heart softens, just as the music changes, and he spins me around before pausing in place, as if waiting for my answer.

I do understand him. Only in simplified children’s stories are people entirely altruistic or entirely selfish.

That’s not how it works. The world is more complex than heroes or villains, “good” kingdoms and “evil” kingdoms.

He’s still learning. And there’s hope in that.

He rests his chin on my head, and I return his embrace to soften the rejection.

“I understand your intentions, but I can’t be queen. If you understand me , you’d let me return to Riev,” I say.

He grasps me tighter for a brief moment before letting go completely.

His large hands clasp my shoulder. “Think about my offer,” he says solemnly. “It doesn’t have to be now. Perhaps you’d work for me, and in a few years...”

“Perhaps for people like us, we must overcome our fears and strike a better balance between our hearts and our brains? I’ve considered your job offer, but I must decline.”

His gaze dips to me, melancholy in expression, his lips pursed—but his eyes are kind and lovely, a spring green in the golden ballroom.

I offer an apologetic smile and a small curtsy.

Before he can say more, I twist away to exit the ballroom, and he doesn’t move to stop me.

When I find the stairway that leads up to my room to find Riev, I bound up the steps two at a time. Riev is what I want. As the prince said, I was offered a position of a lifetime. Where I could make the most difference.

It’s been my entire life’s work to make my actions matter. To save lives.

I couldn’t do it, though. Not in exchange for a loveless life.

Toryl’s offer helped me realize what I want most.

Curse the demons, I’d said it myself—

We must overcome our fears and strike a better balance between our hearts and our brains.

I’ve sorted out my feelings, and I can’t imagine being with anyone else.

Love isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity.

I need him. I need Riev.

Half a dozen red-uniformed guards line the double doors to my bedroom, three to a side.

Their helmets dip in a polite bow as I pass, acknowledging my approach.

The red guard closest to the bedroom moves forward with a ring of keys.

He lets me in before shutting the doors behind me.

I hear a click and the jangling of keys from the outside, and I’m locked in.

The bedroom is completely dark, the heavy gold curtains drawn. As my eyes adjust, I find the nearest gas lamp, turning the knob halfway to light the room in an amber glow.

The bed is empty.

Riev is gone.