Page 32 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

“ I ’m fine ,” said Ria the moment I entered her chambers. “The healer already checked me over.”

I raised my hands and feigned innocence. “Oh, yes, of course, Your Majesty. You weren’t nearly poisoned, so I won’t ask how you’re feeling.”

Ria groaned. She’d shucked her outer layers but remained stuck in her wine-stained corset.

Sitting in her vanity chair, pearl-lined hairbrush in hand, she reminded so much of home that I nearly choked.

Was it really only weeks ago that we’d sat in her bedroom in Olmstead, while she brushed her hair, and I laid spread out on her bedspread like a starfish?

“Fine,” she said. “It’s a reasonable question. I just don’t want to answer it anymore.” Her face softened. “Thank you. As angry and humiliated as I am, I’m glad you noticed.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. I lowered onto the edge of the bed with an exhausted grunt.

Adrenaline coursed through my body, but I detected the underlying weakness in my limbs, the haziness of my mind.

I’d hardly slept and barely eaten. I could fall asleep like this, fully clothed on top of a scratchy, embroidered bedspread, and barely notice. “Sorry I spilled it all over you. ”

“Better all over my dress than in my veins,” sighed Ria. She slouched against the back of the chair, hairbrush dangling from her fingertips.

“Agreed,” I said, fluttering over to her. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

But safety felt fragile and intangible now, a concept so foreign that it became more myth than reality. Dread spiked in my belly.

Days passed, and the would-be assassin was not discovered.

Though King Hergarv threatened to start cutting off hands, no one came forward with information.

I was the only person who had witnessed anything of value, and even my claims were called into question.

I was “interviewed” three times in the throne room, with Ria peering over my shoulder as if our roles had been reversed.

Prince Marius was never far behind, watching with intensity as King Hergarv asked question after question, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble.

Why did he care? Ria’s continued contentment was in his best interest, but I refused to believe this was his motivation.

All this couldn’t be for my sake, could it?

Maybe he needed more help than I’d anticipated. Especially if it was true that no one else was willing to look at his cursed ring.

“You’re sure there was a mole?” said King Hergarv, leaning forward in his throne during my third interrogation. “We’ve found not a single mole on a single ring finger, regardless of the hand.”

“I remember it distinctly,” I said, trying not to fidget. “It was a large mole near the first knuckle of the ring finger on the right hand.”

Prince Marius chewed the inside of his cheek and said nothing. So far he’d stayed silent, a looming presence in the background. With each passing interview, he seemed more concerned. Today, he constantly shifted his feet, as though prepared to step between us.

He made me nervous. The guards showed no interest in me, but I suspected that Marius knew something I didn’t.

“I see,” said King Hergarv with a sigh. “This is the best you’ve got?”

“I’m afraid so.” I clasped my hands and lowered my head, hoping I seemed earnest. So earnest, in fact, that he’d absolve me of all suspicion, and never mention this again.

“You see, it’s beginning to sound like a story to me.

Like something you made up to take the attention off yourself,” King Hergarv continued, looking me dead in the eye.

“I’ve been told you poisoned the glass. That you hoped we might keep you here in Tocchia if you proved your worth.

” He turned toward the window, his voice pondering.

But there was an edge to it, fine as a razor.

Dread filled my belly. “Now why would you be so desperate to stay? Not because you planned to report back to King Amonrew in the spring, hmm?”

Shit. I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath. If I answered this incorrectly, I’d probably be executed. “That isn’t true, Your Highness. My loyalty lies with the Princess, and your court. I’ve no knowledge of poisons, and would never?—”

“Enough of this,” snarled Prince Marius, coming to stand between us, long blond hair flying out behind him.

He smelled of pine and sword oil, of the lemon and mint soaps at the baths.

“Miss Arina has provided the information three times over, as per your request. This is getting ridiculous. Your accusations hold no ground.”

Ria’s simmering anger turned to astonishment. Marius had come to my defense more than once, but there was a fervor to him now, an unfamiliar wildness not unlike that of a bobcat. I half-expected him to bite.

Guilt churned in my stomach. I’d put myself in this position. Marius chose to raid the castle, but I chose to sneak into the back of the wagon, and complicate Ria’s life. I’d never live down the regret.

“You know as well as I do that the help likes to lie,” said King Hergarv, with the exasperation of someone forced to explain something for the twentieth time.

“I was beside her the entire time. I would’ve noticed if she poisoned the wine,” said Marius. His hands balled into fists at his sides. “There’s no point in poisoning the glass just to orchestrate a rescue. And Fallamor?—”

“Fallamor will do anything for a pretty face,” snapped King Hergarv. He drew back as soon as he spoke, unruly beard trembling.

“I think the people of Plinath might not like to hear that,” said Prince Marius, eyebrow raising high.

King Hergarv released a long, whistling sigh. “You’re right. They wouldn’t. The fact remains that I don’t trust your judgment.”

I focused on breathing slowly and staying still. Any squirming might be taken as a sign of guilt. My heart was in my throat, threatening to hammer free. Every passing second was torturous. Would they kill me? Or would the king see reason?

“You’ve never trusted me,” said Prince Marius, gesticulating wildly, fury written plainly across his face. “Not once in my life! Not a single thing I’ve ever said has been enough for you! I’m sick of it! Miss Arina is important to my betrothed?—”

The king sucked in a furious breath through flared nostrils. His lip curled to bare yellowing teeth. “ You are prone to flights of fancy, and your betrothed would do well to learn that!”

Ria took a step back, mouth open, clutching the fabric of her skirt so tightly that it would surely wrinkle. She looked to me, then to Marius, whose face had turned to a snarl. A blue vein bulged in his forehead. A muscle spasmed in his jaw. “You would never say such things to Gavin.”

“No!” spat King Hergarv, leaning forward like he might leap from his throne. “ You are not Gavin. He does not need to be reminded of such things!”

“You think I’m weak,” Marius challenged, stepping closer.

I thought I was about to witness a regicide. Prince Marius breathed heavily, muscles cording in his neck. He was always armed and today was no exception—there was a sword on his hip, a knife visible in his boot, and probably more blades hidden in other places.

I shivered at the thought of hunting them down, plucking them from beneath his clothes, feeling taut, shivering muscle beneath my hands as I sought blade after blade…

Then I stopped myself, appalled. Where had that come from?

“You are weak!” King Hergarv growled. “You’ve been sick since you were born! Do not challenge me now!” His chest heaved. “I know you’re itching for a fight, but you don’t want to find it in me, boy. I could destroy you without a second thought!”

Prince Marius’s astonished expression deepened into something thunderous. “You wouldn’t dare .”

“I’d do a lot worse than dare,” King Hergarv bellowed.

Droplets of his saliva landed on Prince Marius’s face, his collar.

“You foppish rat! You dare challenge me, after everything I’ve done for you?

I’ll kill the maid, then. See if I care what kind of a start your marriage gets off to. After everything I’ve done?—”

“No!” Ria screamed, shoving her way between Marius and the King.

Hands landed on my shoulders. One belonged to King Hergarv’s knight, the other to Prince Marius.

“No, no, no!” Ria shrieked. Her foot stamped down, dangerously close to the toes of King Hergarv’s boots. “If you do this, I will ensure that Olmstead has no future cooperation with you! I will break the betrothal, I will set our armies on you?—”

I felt faint. Too stunned to fight off the heavy, gauntleted hands wrapping around my wrists like frozen talons.

What buttons were sewn into my blouse today?

One for maintaining my hair color, another for tracking down Prince Marius, which burned like a brand against my breast. And what was the third one… ?

“Release her,” Prince Marius demanded, voice frantic in a way I’d never heard before. “Release her, you must release her?—”

“Little princes would do well to learn their place,” said one of the knights, hands tightening painfully on my wrists. “I can’t take your orders over the king’s, Your Highness.”

Ria still screeched in the background. I glimpsed King Hergarv’s face. Equal parts enraged and bewildered as this quiet, skinny princess screamed in his face, arms waving, hair coming loose from its bun. A guard approached to intervene, and King Hergarv waved him off.

Then it happened. “Silence!” he roared, saliva spraying across the room.

Everyone fell quiet.

King Hergarv’s gaze fell upon my disheveled figure. One shaking finger raised to point at me. “Who the fuck is she?”

Ria shrank back.

Prince Marius froze in his tracks, and wiped a bead of moisture from his cheek, making a face of disgust. “Am I in a fucking rainstorm right now?”

I started to laugh, and couldn’t stop.