Page 30 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

“ Y our missing heir,” said Gavin to the representatives of Liridin hours later, after the wine flowed, and everyone danced in its river, drunk and laughing.

A bright moon hovered overhead. The band played loudly, and the gardens overflowed with guests, drunk and giggling, unsteady on their feet as they made their way to the dance floor. “I’m still shocked he hasn’t appeared.”

I was at Ria’s side, too exhausted to do my job properly, hoping that my presence alone would deter any potential problems. My backside ached fiercely, and my temple still stung. Though the healer had dulled the pain, she hadn’t repaired me.

That wasn’t the point of a healer, of course. I didn’t expect every wound to fully close. That would take a tremendous amount of energy. Not something likely to be wasted on a maid, even one escorted by Prince Marius.

I perked up at the mention of the missing heir. This was not a scenario that would be entertained by the royals in Olmstead, or any neighboring kingdoms. If an heir went missing, there would be a manhunt. If it was unsuccessful, the throne would then pass to whoever was next in line .

Unless there was no one to pass the throne to. I shivered at the implication.

“Yes,” said Fallamor, one of representatives of the Sea.

Tonight, he wore his hair in a long, loose braid.

Tiny, spiral shells were pinned to it. He was stunningly handsome, and I repeatedly found my gaze drawn to him.

If he noticed, he never let on. I was grateful for his discretion; certain I couldn’t stomach the embarrassment if he’d chosen to say something.

“Do tell us more about that. I can assure you that in Plinath we would never wait so long.”

“There’s a prophecy,” pointed out Toral.

Like yesterday, he wore black, but tonight, his clothes were far more appropriate for a banquet.

Hundreds of tiny, shining scales were sewn into his shirt and pants, so that he shimmered everywhere he went, not unlike a dragon.

His massive, black wings outshined his outfit, and caught the light from the chandelier.

I couldn’t stop looking at them, amazed by their sheen. “It says he will return. So we wait.”

“A prophecy?” asked Ria, brow furrowing. She swilled the wine in her goblet, but did not take a sip. Already, she was slurring her words. “And that has merit?”

“Liridin is known for the accuracy of its prophecies,” said Prince Marius, draining the dregs of his wine.

A new goblet appeared in his hand almost instantly, replaced by a servant who disappeared as quickly as she arrived.

He must’ve been rather tipsy, because he seemed confused as to how it got there.

“You can ignore a prophecy from the mainland without much consequence, but it would be unwise to do so in Liridin.”

“I see,” said Ria, setting her nearly empty goblet on the table.

No servant came to give her a new one.

“That’s true,” said Halin, nodding. He plucked a slice of cheese from his plate and rolled it around a tiny sausage. “Our prophecies have earned a reputation among the continent. And this one is no different from the others. Would you like to hear it?”

Ria frowned. “Is it relevant? ”

The table burst into whooping laughter and guffaws.

The sound echoed across the lawn, drawing the attention of Queen Tarra, who glared at us.

Toral laughed so hard that he looked halfway to tears, while Marius and Gavin dissolved into sniggers that would’ve been more befitting of schoolchildren. Even Fallamor joined in.

“Yes?” Halin ventured. “I think it is very relevant.”

Ria’s cheeks were red as apples, from both wine and humiliation. “I-I didn’t mean any offense,” she stammered.

Prince Marius took a massive gulp of wine and sprayed it all over the table when Halin climbed on top of the bench, mug in hand.

He wavered about, sloshing ale as he began, “It goes as such: The first and only heir of the Ice King will vanish in a torrent of wind and frost, only to reappear on the wings of a moth, fleeing the fires of war.” He had to shout to be heard over Prince Marius’s gasping laughter and Ria’s sputtering.

I hung onto every word, eager to hear more.

Fallamor turned to me, his brilliant, sea foam green eyes meting mine. “There you have it,” he said. “The infamous prophecy.”

“Is Liridin on the brink of war?” I asked, watching as Halin wobbled on the bench. Toral was quick to help him down, a disapproving scowl on his face.

“No,” snorted Fallamor. He observed as Halin fumbled to his seat, grin a little too sharp, on the verge of mocking. Then his gaze flitted to me, hard and critical. “But hope springs eternal.”

I thought there might be a second implication there, so I looked away before my embarrassment could flare.

Of course I’d never pursue a prince of the sea, but Fallamor was impossibly beautiful, his face carved from the finest marble, his jawline strong enough to cut diamond, perceptive eyes constantly scanning the room.

“‘ The first and only heir ,’” I mused, eager to change the subject. “It’s a miracle the Sky Kingdom hasn’t been attacked. ”

Fallamor shrugged. “They’ve protection from Plinath and from Tocchia. And hardly anyone believes they exist, which is certainly helpful. Few kings will waste resources attacking a mythical kingdom.”

“Don’t underestimate their greed,” I said, watching as Prince Marius frantically mopped up the spilled wine, contrite under Tarra’s chilling stare.

“Tocchia is difficult to reach. Most realms are content to allow Tocchian representatives to come to them. It makes things easier for Liridin.” Fallamor yawned, revealing pointed teeth.

I’d noticed them before, of course; it wasn’t as if the prince never spoke or opened his mouth.

But I hadn’t realized just how sharp they were, or how many fit into his mouth, which was suddenly impossibly wide, stretching like a snake’s.

I could see all the way past his tongue, and down the back of his throat.

Fallamor’s jaw snapped shut, and he batted his eyelashes innocently at me. “Stick to Marius,” he murmured, so that only I could hear him. “I bite. He doesn’t.”

His laughter echoed in my ears as I recoiled, shame and anger flaring in my chest.

Prince Marius caught sight of my expression, and his eyes narrowed. Before I could move, he plopped down on the bench between Fallamor and I.

“Educating the Olmsteadians, are we?” said Marius to Fallamor, practically purring.

Ria frowned between Marius and I, clearly wondering if she’d missed something.

I shrugged. I wondered the same.

“Someone has to,” said Fallamor innocently. “I don’t think your new wife’s bodyguard knew I was of the serpents.”

“Ah,” said Marius, not bothering to mention that he wasn’t married yet. “In that case, I can’t blame you.”

A pointed tongue poked between Fallamor’s pointed teeth as he smirked. “I don’t condone their ignorance. Nor can I accept it. ”

“Naturally,” agreed Prince Marius, sipping more wine. “I imagine this is a rather miserable affair. Forced to educate the ignorant when you could be riding the waves and hunting sharks.”

My face heated.

“It is a nice change of pace,” said Fallamor, shrugging. “Even the sea grows dull sometimes.”

“I am well aware,” groaned Prince Marius, feigning a swoon, dipping backward so that his coattails brushed against the cobblestone pavement. “I seem to be forced to entertain you whenever you’re bored.”

Fallamor beamed smugly.

“You are a very dramatic drunk,” I complained, scooting away from Marius, until my hips were flush against Ria’s.

“I am dramatic most days,” he informed me, lifting his goblet in imitation of a toast. Wine sloshed. “Drunk or not.”

What lovely, stable rulers Tocchia would one day have. I wished Queen Tarra and King Hergarv longevity. If not for their sakes, then for the sakes of their people. I couldn’t imagine the nonsense Marius and Ria would condemn the kingdom to.

But maybe that was unfair. Yes, my sister was moody and grumpy more often than not, but she understood diplomacy, at least in theory. Prince Marius’s understanding of the subject remained to be seen.

“You’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met,” Gavin scoffed. He sipped from his mug of ale, and wiped foam from his lips. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

“I didn’t,” Prince Marius huffed. “Which you would know if you were paying attention. Besides, Miss Arina is not so easily fooled.”

“I guess that’s true,” said Gavin, though there was something dissatisfied in his expression. Suspicion? Doubt?

“Is she the maid or the guard?” asked Halin, his strange blue gaze landing on mine.

“Both,” I said, straightening my shoulders .

“It’s a unique position,” said Ria with a practiced air.

I nodded, trying to project a confidence I didn’t feel.

Gavin watched Ria from across the table. The way she sipped her wine. The way her delicate fingers, bare of rings and adornments, tapped against the table when she was restless.

He’d had just enough ale to have forgotten himself. I kicked his shin under the table. When he startled, I shot him a warning glare.

He gave a slow, careful nod that only Fallamor and I saw. I’d not spill his secrets, but it wouldn’t do to lust after my sister so openly.

Or was it lust? They spoke often, quick jibes and brief greetings, nothing particularly notable. But sometimes I caught Ria grinning to herself long after Gavin waved to her in the hallway, and I wondered.

A servant replaced Ria’s goblet, slipping behind me so silently that I almost didn’t notice. I glimpsed a pale hand with a dark mole, and then it was gone.

How long would it take me to reach that level of expertise? Where I could glide between people like nothing more than a breeze?