Page 36

Eight Years Ago

Nina, Age Eleven

Nina bounced on the balls of her feet in Bergspeer’s entryway, hands on Bryn’s shoulders. The hair spilling over Nina’s arms caught the sun streaming through the high windows, fire to her sister’s gold.

For the last few years, the Forest Ball had been better than any of the ones before it. Nina still didn’t know Fal’s real name, but she was always excited to see him. To talk with him. And she was growing impatient with waiting.

“Excited much?” Bryn teased.

“What gave it away?”

“The constant movement might have.” Bryn laughed before tensing. “And the death grip you have on me.”

Nina sprang back, forcing her hands to her sides. Though her feet were now still, her pulse picked up the slack. She wanted to leave now . She and Bryn were the first ones ready, and she didn’t care to wait for the rest of the family. Not this time. Fal was waiting for her. Was he as excited to see her as she was him? The thought made her giddy.

The more time passed, the more Nina realized she was definitely crushing on Fal. Nina had thought she might get the way Bryn got around crushes—awkward and quiet. Even fierce and eldest Willa had gotten that way around the soldier, Anselm, more than once before he’d left. But Nina never got that way with Fal. He made her bold, not flustered. But he also made her warm and happy. Soft. Some mix of strong and weak. Well, not weak. More like . . . vulnerable. Strong and vulnerable at the same time. She kind of liked it.

“What about you?” Nina said. “Are you excited?”

“Well . . .” Bryn smiled shyly. “There’s someone I met at the Ball last year. I hope to see her again.”

Nina clapped. “You have to find her!”

Bryn forced a laugh. “I don’t even know if she, well, you know.”

“So? I don’t know if Fal likes girls.”

“From everything you’ve told me, I think he likes girls.” Bryn leaned in and whispered dramatically, “It sounds like he’s smitten with you.”

Nina wrinkled her nose. That was the word her parents used for her older sisters and their suitors.

Still, Nina’s stomach erupted in flight. Fal did have a penchant for turning red around her. But he had grown more confident talking to her over the years, which Nina liked.

And she liked that he was still hers . None of her family had met him; she didn’t think they’d even seen the two of them together. It was her and Fal against the world, at least for a little while each year.

“What do you say we sneak out there? I’ll find Fal and you’ll find your mystery girl.”

Bryn blanched. “Sneak out? What about the others?”

Nina was fairly certain Bryn’s reluctance had more to do with rule breaking than waiting for the others. And maybe the reality of seeing her crush again.

“Live a little!” Nina pulled Bryn toward an attendants’ hall. “We see them every day. What does it matter if we leave a little earlier than them?”

“I don’t know . . .”

Nina stopped, twirling to face Bryn. Nina stopped herself from getting mesmerized by the way the light caught her green dress, shimmering beautifully and ghosting against her legs. It was even more beautiful than the one she’d worn a few years before. Would Fal notice?

“Won’t it be easier to sneak away and do what we want to before everyone’s out there?” Nina argued.

Bryn toyed with her lip between her teeth and smoothed down her pretty lilac dress. “I guess so.”

“Great! Then let’s go.”

At the end of the hall, Nina pushed open the door and led Bryn down a path to the Forest Ball. The smell of pine needles and fresh water from the Lake of Unity mingled with that of the usual spread of food while the tinkling of laughter bubbled from the glade, but it was all background information. All Nina wanted was to find a certain familiar face.

She cast her eyes around as soon as she and Bryn entered the glade, few people paying either girl any attention. It was a perk of the Forest Ball—outfits didn’t denote status, and without their parents and ten sisters around, most adults weren’t about to put much thought into the arrival of two young girls.

Despite the lack of resistance from those around them, Nina still didn’t find Fal. The promise of dancing and good conversation made her search twice as hard, especially once Bryn stepped away. Maybe this year Nina would tell him who she was. Her neck heated, palms turning slick. She typically didn’t get nervous, but the thought of him treating her differently because of who she was did. Every unintentional snub at the hands of those she’d wanted to be friends with over the years stung like hundreds of bees. Fal treated her like anyone else. He didn’t shy away from her or stop himself from teasing her for fear of saying the wrong thing to a princess.

Would that stop if she told him?

Finally, Nina located Fal. He stood off to the side, away from the crowd. He perked up when he spotted her, shoulders straightening as he gave her a little wave. His limbs looked longer, stretched. He must have grown in the last year. Though they’d always been similar heights, the closer she got to him, the more she noticed he was taking the lead. He bowed, causing her to giggle.

“Hi, Kit.” His voice hadn’t really deepened, but it sounded more mature.

Nina beamed. Even if she revealed who she was tonight, she liked the sound of her nickname.

“Hi, Fal.” She never tired of the nickname she gave him, either. Though his namesake could fight, they could be peaceful creatures, gentle. Like him.

His smile grew.

She still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t provided his real name. Her theory was still that his family worked for the Cunlaran crown and their exact position was something he was embarrassed of. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, since every member of a royal household was invaluable, but she wasn’t about to push Fal into revealing anything he didn’t want to.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

She curtsied. “It would be a pleasure.”

He led her deeper into the trees, close enough to hear the music but far enough away to not be disturbed. Unlike previous years, the weight of his hand in hers sent a tingle straight to her spine. She became hyperaware of her body. Were her feet working properly? Was she blinking too much? Did she have chocolate on her cheek from her pre-Ball snack?

She tightened her muscles as though it would help the feeling, her arms stiffening. This was a new type of vulnerable she hadn’t been prepared for. Her hand was still slick in his. Did he notice? By the Faith, was this what Bryn felt around crushes? Nina wasn’t sure she liked it.

Fal spun her, making the skirt of her dress sparkle, and he laughed. The sound pulled an immediate response from her.

She supposed, if it meant being around Fal, the feeling could stay.

“I know we haven’t talked much about deep things before,” Fal said in a slower moment a few songs later. “Just little things like our favorite stories and music, or what we sometimes dream about.”

“Those are nice things to talk about, though.” And not little at all, in her opinion. But his blush suggested he was being cautious with his words.

“I agree! I don’t have many people to talk to about things I like or want. And you’re sort of my favorite of them, anyway.” His blush deepened at the confession.

Nina squeezed his hand. She understood. Even though she had people to talk to—all of her sisters would listen if she asked—she didn’t have many who were truly interested in what she had to say. Bryn, yes. Kat, most of the time. Her parents, sure, but they didn’t count, and sometimes didn’t understand her ramblings. There was something special about talking to Fal. Something no one else could provide.

“Can we sit?” Fal asked.

“Sure.”

He led her to a fallen tree. They had to jump to sit, their legs swinging in the air.

He stared at his feet. “I’ve really wanted to tell you about my family, and specific things about my life, and I can’t do that anonymously.”

His cute awkward side was showing, but Nina couldn’t appreciate it like she usually could. Would he want her to reveal herself if he did? Now that the moment was here, she wasn’t so sure about her earlier desire.

“Is it alright if I tell you?” Fal asked.

Before Nina could respond, a girl she’d never seen before ran up to Fal. She didn’t give Nina a second look. Her blond hair was pulled into a pretty updo Nina could never manage with how thick her own hair was.

“Dàibhid, you promised you’d dance with me!”

Nina’s gaze whipped to her friend. Dàibhid? She fought to keep her mouth shut even as her mind raced. There was more than one Dàibhid in the world. Certainly more than one in Cunlaran.

His face grew redder. “Yeah, um, yes, I did. Just, just give me a minute.”

The girl crossed her arms. “Fine. But Da says a prince honors his word. So be fast.” She turned and fled to the glade.

With the girl, who had to have been Princess Bríghid, gone, Nina sagged out of sheer relief. “You’re Prince Dàibhid ?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I just . . . I don’t know. It was nice having you not know.”

She almost laughed. She’d thought his family worked for the Cunlaran crown, but they were the Cunlaran crown. Revealing herself was going to be so much easier. They could maintain a normal friendship outside of the Ball, and maybe see each other more often. She practically vibrated with joy.

Dàibhid frowned like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I, uh, think I might know who you are, too.”

“Oh, really?” Nina’s mouth quirked, intrigued.

“Well, you have danced with eleven other girls, and there aren’t many people I know of with that many siblings.”

Nina palmed her forehead. “I hoped you hadn’t seen that.”

“So I am right!” He playfully pushed her, and her cheeks flushed. What if Dàibhid did like her. Like, liked her liked her?

“Can I keep calling you Kit?” he asked, once again turning a little shy. “Not that I don’t like your name, I just like the ones we came up with.”

He liked her name. Nina didn’t even like her own name, but it was sweet, hearing him say he did. And he wanted to keep calling her Kit? Fine by her.

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said. “Although if you want to meet my parents, or my sister, I guess, I’ll have to introduce you as Brynhild.”

Nina froze. As . . . Brynhild?

“You . . . are Princess Brynhild, aren’t you?”

It was like he’d punched her, but Nina wasn’t quite sure why.

“I’m Nina.” She fought the urge to cross her arms. She wanted to see what he’d do first.

A hundred bee stings didn’t compare to the tearing she felt when his focus sharpened, his brows creasing in what had to be either horror or disgust. “The youngest?”

That was what had created the punched feeling. The youngest , he’d said, like it was the worst thing she could be. In all her worrying about him treating her differently for being royal, she’d bypassed the potential to be seen as little. To her family, she might have been the baby, which she hated enough as it was. But with others, her anger was more acute; she deserved to be seen as a person, not an age. She couldn’t always be seen as the youngest. She couldn’t . Especially not to Fal. Dàibhid .

But now that Dàibhid knew, it was clear he felt different about their whole friendship. He was even leaning away from her like she’d infect him. She felt ridiculous. He’d thought she was Bryn. Yes, they shared some features, like the curve of their noses and the shape of their eyebrows, but a lot wasn’t shared. And Bryn simply looked older. She already had proper curves at thirteen. Dàibhid’s age. Not Nina’s.

Nina shot to her feet. Dàibhid was more apprehensive than anything now, but his reaction still stung beyond belief. This was so much worse than any friendship rejection she’d experienced before. One she wouldn’t be able to get over, ever.

“Yes, that one. I’m sorry I’m not Bryn. I’m sorry I’m younger than you.” Despite the words, she sounded anything but apologetic. She sounded bitter. Good. Her mother would be horrified to hear her speaking like this, but the tone was justified. Dàibhid hadn’t apologized, or even said anything, which meant he didn’t want to fix this. There shouldn’t have been anything to fix, but clearly, something had cracked. And Nina wasn’t about to make the first move to mend it.

When he still didn’t say anything, she squeezed her hands shut to hold in the anger. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

She walked away before he could stop her. She didn’t think he was about to, though. What thirteen-year-old boy wanted to be around an eleven-year-old girl, one he wasn’t even related to? Nina was the same age as his sister, if memory of her lessons served, which had to make it worse to him. Dàibhid had to hate the idea of being around her now.

Nina was right—he didn’t come after her. Perhaps Bryn was wrong, for surely if he liked her like that, he would have followed. All the stories Nina had read taught her he would.

She just wanted to feel special. Dàibhid had made her feel special, like she belonged just by being around. She wanted that feeling back, beyond the version she got from her family. She wanted it with other people, who could love her for her without any hindrances around age or status. The fact that it couldn’t be Dàibhid hurt. But she’d find it again. Somehow.

She refused not to.