Page 35 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

“ T here you are!” said Avens, appearing behind me as I made my way upstairs from the laundress’. “I was so worried about you! I heard they threw you in the dungeons!”

“Hello, Avens,” I said, pausing so that he could catch up to me. Today, he wore an outfit of emerald green silk that flattered his slim body and enhanced the brilliance of his eyes. No instrument case bounced off his thigh today. His hair was mussed, his face frantic as he stopped beside me.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Firm fingers touched my arm. I yelped as he brushed over bruises, and he recoiled. “Shit, I’m so sorry?—”

“It’s alright,” I tried to assure him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just bruised. I’m fine, I think?—”

We embraced there and I cried against his green shoulder, trying and failing to keep my tears from staining the fabric.

He patted me on the back and made soothing noises, held me tight until I said I wanted to sit down, right there on the stairs.

He sat beside me, and listened while I told him everything of the dungeons, that I now knew what it was like to fall asleep standing up, that I had no idea what would happen to me next .

“You could always go home,” he reminded me, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. A worried smile strained his face.

Faint lines formed at the corners of his eyes, his mouth. When had they appeared? When had the energetic young bard who graced my summers aged?

Avens was only two or three years older than me, barely past his mid-twenties. We’d spent so much of the last seven years traipsing around court together, getting into all kinds trouble. That he’d lost his youthful essence over a single winter shocked me.

He was thinner, with bags under his eyes, a new tightness to his mouth. Only his full head of fiery hair and dashing grin hadn’t changed.

I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems that I hadn’t realized I wasn’t the only one struggling.

“I can’t leave Ria,” I mumbled.

“I know it feels that way,” he said, his smooth voice like a cool river, rushing over my raw wounds. “But you can. I’ll be returning to Olmstead for the summer, as per usual. You could come with me.”

I shook my head. “Father would have your head.”

“Not if we make something up,” he said, a little too cheerfully. He knew it was a bad plan but played along for my sake.

“No,” I insisted, hiccupping a little.

“Fine. You’re probably right. You know him better than I do. Alright, then, if you won’t return, do you think you’ll be safe here?”

I mulled over my response, tasting the options like flavors. Finally, I said, “I think so. I just need to keep my head down.”

“Don’t you miss being a princess?” he asked, keeping his voice low even though we were alone. “I’d think the arrangements are a little better, personally.”

“I didn’t want to marry an absolute oaf,” I said. “And I have… a sense of purpose here. ”

“But you had the forge back in Olmstead. And plenty of friends and family. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

A part of me wanted to be offended that he dared question my choices, but the reality was that he cared for me, and I valued his perspective. “It does,” I answered. “But this was the first real decision I made for myself.”

He nodded sagely. “I understand that. I remember my first time at court. I chose to spend a winter in Luminden, despite everyone else’s advice, because the pay was good and I thought I’d have an easy time getting there.” He chuckled, a tiny bit morose.

“I didn’t know you ever went to Luminden.”

“Only once,” he said. “The journey was horrific. No one warned me that the mountains were impassable in autumn. I was wildly unprepared. Nearly died on the way there. Then discovered that King Paulin, who had invited me , liked neither my music nor my kind ,” he spat.

“Like he wasn’t fucking his jester. So I spent much of that winter hiding from him, unpaid.

I was extremely lucky that I was able to bargain a ride back to the plains come spring.

Honestly, I thought I would die there.” He sighed, shoulder brushing against mine.

“But I didn’t regret it. It was my choice to go, and I learned a lot about what I needed to avoid in the future. Tocchia doesn’t seem half so bad.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “Not so far, anyway.”

“Just be certain,” said Avens softly. “When the pass closes, you’ll be trapped here.”

“I’ll think about it,” I told him, rising slowly. “Thanks, Avens.”

“Anytime, Miss Arina,” he said, bowing to me, grinning. “I’ll be around.”

With that, he jogged down the stairs, wavering like a blade of grass in the wind.

I watched him go and turned to go upstairs.

Something shifted in the shadows. I froze, blinking furiously, as Prince Marius emerged, icy blue eyes gleaming .

“Nice to see you’re alive,” he said, arms crossed, coattails swishing.

His expression was unusually cold. It made him look crystalline, statuesque—soulless and calculating.

A chill flared down my spine, racing to my still aching tailbone. “Yes, I believe I must thank?—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving his hand lazily as if batting a wayward wasp from his drink, as I’d seen him do so many times before in the garden. “Anything for Princess Valeria.”

Why was he acting like this?

But then, he’d grown cold and distant the first time he saw me with Avens, too. Was he jealous ?

The corners of his lips quirked into something halfway to deranged.

My instincts screamed at me to leave, but I could not stop staring at him—spine ramrod straight, his gaze piercing, pink lips parted to reveal white teeth, cheekbones high and proud, jaw tight, coattails trailing behind him like the proud wings of a moth.

At his throat, the strange stone rose and fell with each breath, on full display today thanks to his shirt, for once devoid of lace.

He was heartbreakingly, achingly beautiful even in fury and he would never, ever be mine.

A pang of loneliness and loss coursed through me. My stomach twisted into a sailor’s knot. Heat burst into my cheeks, and tears burned at the corners of my eyes.

“I think—I think I ought to return to work,” I mumbled, looking down at the marble floor. “Good day, Your Highness.”

And I fled, ignoring the way that he watched me with something that couldn’t be disappointment.

Ria was silent and sullen at dinner. When I tried to ask her what happened, she snapped at me, then apologized, citing a long day .

She didn’t ask about the dungeons. I didn’t volunteer any information, but I was hurt. Didn’t she want to know what happened?

But all I got from her was a clipped, “I’m glad you’re all right,” as I left that first night.

The next two days were quiet and dull. Fallamor and Toral both offered their condolences to me over breakfast, easing some of my resentment. At least someone cared. Even if their words were purely diplomatic, I appreciated them, anyway.

Prince Marius ignored me with the fervor of a scholar driven mad by research, swirling dramatically past me at every opportunity, nose high in the air, every bit the distinguished and snobby royal.

My dismay grew. Marius and I were never friends, but I thought we got along well enough considering the circumstances. What had changed?

I’d made sure to bathe since my night in the dungeons. And while my face was a little sallow, my eyes a little sunken, I looked and smelled fine. I did my job with the same diligence as before.

Marius had fought the King over my sentence, arguing that there was no need to throw me in the dungeons, that there was no proof I’d done anything wrong. He’d spoken with passion, even rage.

If I was worth that kind of effort only a few days ago, why wasn’t I now?

Prince Marius was less attentive to Valeria, eschewing her gaze, responding only in clips and monosyllables. Ria wasn’t the least bit perturbed by this, and carried on as usual, but his mood grated on me.

On the fourth day, I could stand it no longer. While readying Ria in her chambers, I gave in to my curiosity.

“What happened between you and Prince Marius?” I asked, twisting a lock of her hair, and pinning it in place .

“What do you mean?” she asked, giving me an exaggerated pout in the mirror.

I laughed at that and pinned a piece of hair into place. “He’s been so quiet and angry lately.”

“Oh.” She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I don’t know. I… We had a fight. After they took you away.”

A chill wrapped around my throat like a cold hand. “What happened?”

“King Hergarv threatened to have Marius thrown in the dungeons for aiding and abetting. I tried to calm him, but he was… uncontrollable. Angry like I’ve never seen him.” She sighed. “But it’s not as if I know him. He’s always been a bit of a mystery.”

Oh . I’d assumed that he must have opened up to Ria. If anything, he claimed he wanted a pleasant marriage and seemed willing to put forth the effort. I was surprised that he hadn’t said anything.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and adjusted a wayward curl. The updo was coming along nicely, Ria’s dark hair piled elegantly atop her head.

“Anyway, I thought he seemed…” She chewed her lower lip, gaze flickering to me. “I think he might… prefer you over me. And I confronted him.”

“ What ?!” I squeaked, shrill enough to crack glass.

Ria winced and covered her ears. “Goddess, Talina! Are you trying to deafen me?”

“Sorry,” I said, lowering my arms. My hands were numb. Blood thundered in my ears. “But isn’t that preposterous? How could he possibly prefer?—”

“He’s hardly blind, Talina. And unlike me, he isn’t deaf, either,” she grumbled, rubbing at the lobe of her ear.

“That’s not— that’s impossible.”

“I think there’s more truth to it than any of us would like to admit,” said Ria bitterly. “I think you like him back.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I know you met with him a few times. ”

“I—” My face flushed. There was no denying it. “He said he needed an artificer.”