Page 39 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

T here was no news. The atmosphere at the palace grew grim and tense. The royal family was nowhere in sight. The remaining nobles were granted permission to remain in the palace so that they didn’t risk travel through a land on the brink of war.

Avens accompanied Ria and I on long walks through the gardens, chattering away in Prince Marius’s absence.

Privately, I wondered if this was a good idea.

If Marius was incredibly jealous whenever Avens spoke to me, then how he would he react when he learned the bard had spent so much time with his betrothed?

But Prince Marius was locked away in the war room, not even surfacing for meals.

More representatives arrived. Some rode in great carriages that sloshed sea water across the lawn, others flew down from Liridin, which had anchored itself over the palace, casting us eternally in shadow.

The glittering white bridge spiraled down from the rocky edge of the island.

A court sorcerer created the illusion of trees around the base, so that no one could quite make it out without approaching.

Soldiers made this next to impossible. The grounds were absolutely crawling with guards .

Today, Avens, Ria, and I were on our third lap around the gardens. I could just barely make out the conjured trees beyond the hedges and felt a wave of frustration. “Do you suppose,” I wondered aloud, “that this is… an overreaction?”

Avens winced. Ria pursed her lips.

I knew it was a risky question. But the frustration beneath my skin was beginning to itch, and I could no longer stand it.

“Perhaps the phrase ‘an abundance of caution’ might be more appropriate,” suggested Avens lightly. “And perhaps we might say that the caution is, indeed, abundant.”

“Like pollen,” said Ria ruefully. Come summer, she would be caught in the relentless grip of hay fever. Prince Marius would spend his honeymoon surrounded by discarded hankies, listening to an endless chain of sneezes.

“Or rabbits,” said Avens, brows wrinkling as a pale hare ran past. “I wouldn’t worry unless the Sky Kingdom is still anchored here next week.”

“Is it true that this is the only one in the world?” I said. “The only Sky Kingdom, I mean?”

“Oh, yes,” said Avens, brushing a fleck of dust from his jacket.

“The others, well. They’ve been gone a long time, I think.

They’ve certainly been lost from the common folklore.

” He hesitated, then examined our surroundings.

Satisfied we were alone, he continued, “Do you remember that song I used to sing? About the maiden and the warrior who fell to their deaths?”

I nodded.

“There’s a much older variant of that ballad.

It was banned by King Gallaprinas of Nemonia over a century ago.

It isn’t actually about a couple going over a waterfall in a rowboat.

It was about a couple fleeing the demise of the Sky Kingdom of Quile.

” He waggled his brows. “A great epic tragedy. Over fifty verses.”

“Oh,” I said, stunned. “Do you know the song?”

Avens grinned. “I might. But I couldn’t sing it here. It’s still banned. ”

“Why?” scoffed Ria. “Sounds like there isn’t a good reason.”

“There isn’t anymore,” said Avens. “But to sing it would cause quite a scandal. A pity, because it’s quite a good song. Love, war, loathing, something about a ring, and of course, lots of awful, tragic, romantic deaths.”

“A ring?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral, so that Avens wouldn’t grow suspicious.

“Oh, yes . A powerful, enchanted ring that could fell kingdoms. I admit, it’s a little funny. Seems out of place in a ballad about love and loss.”

“Perhaps the writer simply liked rings,” said Ria, shrugging her delicate shoulders.

“It’s more than that,” said Avens, chewing the inside of his cheek. His demeanor changed from carefree to stiff and worried. “When is the wedding again, Princess Valeria?”

“Ugh.” Ria made a gagging sound. “This is the worst change in subject ever .”

“I’ve forgotten, and there are guards nearby ,” hissed Avens.

I glanced to our left. The hedges were thick, and I could barely make out shining steel through a gap in the leaves. Avens was right.

“Fine,” Ria grumbled. “It’s in one month. Are you happy?”

“Quite, my dear,” said Avens, bowing. “And would you perhaps like to discuss the song list? Of course, the Queen will have final say.” He made a face. “But I’m quite happy to include any suggestions.”

“Songs?” Ria sighed. “I… I’m afraid I don’t know many songs suitable for a wedding. I’d demand The Prizefighter’s Wife, but we all know that would be grounds for divorce.”

“Or a civil war,” I chimed in.

A laugh sounded through the hedges.

“ The Prizefighter’s Wife is again in strife ,” Avens sang softly, laughter seeping into his voice.

I rolled my eyes.

I saw Prince Marius for the first time in a long while that evening. I slinked through the dark halls, hoping against hope that I’d be allowed inside the library when I arrived. I hadn’t dared try since the messengers arrived, but I was restless tonight, and mentally prepared for rejection.

As usual, he stepped from the shadows, blending in perfectly despite his moonlit hair and pale skin.

I yelped and stumbled backward. “Gods!” I cried, pressing against a marble pillar. “What are you, a cat?”

“Something like that,” said Prince Marius, so pleased with himself that he practically purred. “Are you on your way to the library?” There was something like hope in his voice as he looked me up and down.

“I might be,” I said. Chin high, I continued down the hall.

“Oh, good,” said Marius, following. “I’ve been dreadfully cooped up these last few days.”

I bristled. “I’m sorry to hear that.” After the way he’d treated me last week, I had absolutely no sympathy for him.

Why was he following me? I couldn’t do anything to stop him, but Ria’s anger was fresh in my mind. I would never earn back her trust if Prince Marius insisted on inserting himself into my life like this.

“I suppose sarcastic condolences are condolences nonetheless,” sighed Prince Marius. “I shall accept them.”

Since the hallways were poorly lit, I decided to indulge myself, and rolled my eyes. “How generous of you.”

“Indeed. And I think you owe me a favor, since I’ve been so generous.”

I fought the urge to groan aloud. “And just what is that?”

“It may come as no surprise to you that I need help with a few things. Things of… a certain nature . Can I count on you?”

“A certain secretive nature, I assume? ”

“Yes,” said Marius. We rounded a corner and found ourselves at the entrance to the library. As I’d feared, it was far emptier than usual, but its doors were still open, meaning I’d hopefully be allowed in.

“Fine,” I snapped. “But we need to make it quick.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Are the bodice-rippers calling to you?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

I wanted to slap it off his face.

“What I do here is none of your business,” I snapped. Telling off a prince was risky, but I was too tired, and too stressed, to apologize.

But when I looked at his face, I saw only stunned incredulity. “No one talks to me like that,” he said, utterly delighted.

I had no energy for his nonsense. “Listen,” I said, kneading my temples. “Your betrothed is very jealous, and I’ve no intention of upsetting her further. So I need you to—to rein it in a little bit. Alright?”

“Jealous,” he repeated, abruptly serious. “Princess Valeria is jealous ?” His voice echoed down the hall.

“Keep it down!” I hissed. “Yes, she’s very jealous. Don’t tell anyone I told you. Please,” I added, because he was royal, and I should probably be more polite.

“I find that hard to believe,” he said, waving to Jorg as we stepped inside the library. “I see her nearly every day.”

“Have you ever talked to her?” I asked pointedly.

“We speak.” Any leftover amusement fizzled away. He scowled down at the ground.

“What’s her favorite animal?”

He only shrugged, the creases on his forehead deepening.

“What’s her favorite color? Her favorite flower? Her worst nightmare? Do you know any of these things?”

“No,” he admitted after a long moment.

We crossed the first floor and climbed a staircase. “That’s the problem,” I said .

“I don’t know those things about you, either,” he pointed out. “So she’s no reason to be jealous, even if I’ve… admittedly failed to learn about her. I’m sure she couldn’t tell me the same things about myself.”

“It isn’t too late to change that,” I said, even as my heart clenched.

I didn’t want Ria and Prince Marius to get to know each other better.

I wanted them both to myself in different ways.

Ria as the wonderful sister I’d always had, and Prince Marius…

well, I could never have him, but I wanted him, regardless.

By my side with entirely too many ruffles at his throat, rolling his eyes, making exaggerated gestures and snide comments, watching me with that strangely soft gaze…

All things I’d never have.

“I suppose not,” he said. “Although I’m afraid I really can’t afford to focus on that right now. I need some assistance, and I was hoping you would be willing to help.”

“Fine,” I said, abandoning all hope of a peaceful evening with a new book. Queen Tarra had ordered me to help him. Besides, I was more than a little curious what he might need.

We arrived on the third floor, before a line of shelves resting against the stone wall. Marius spent a few minutes scoping out the area, then said, “Don’t tell anyone about this.” Wearing an expression of intense concentration, he fumbled on the side of an old, scuffed bookcase.

There was a click. Then a grinding noise.

Marius straightened, grabbed at the edge of the shelf, and gave it a yank.

With a groan, the entire bookcase swung open like a door.

It was a door, I realized, astounded.