Page 54 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

T he next few days passed much the same. I met Marius in the evenings, and we tried to summon visions. Sometimes we scrutinized the ring or the box, but we found nothing.

The wedding loomed, only two weeks away.

King Hergarv returned with his Tocchian advisors, tired and disheartened.

There was no sign of Toral and Halin. Marius and I made frantic love nearly every night.

Although I was exhausted, dragging so badly that even Ria noticed, I felt rejuvenated.

Gone were the days when I languished around Olmstead with only a dull husband and the occasional new shipment of dresses to look forward to.

Running about the palace with Marius gave me renewed purpose, and I was eager to indulge.

I visited the apothecary and began taking a single sip of potion nightly. The servants jested and laughed, but no one dared suggest that it was Prince Marius’s child I hoped to prevent, so I took their jokes with ease.

The news broke one morning over breakfast.

Once everyone was seated, King Hergarv rose from his great chair and cleared his throat.

Instantly, all eyes were on him. Even the servants stopped in their tracks.

“Good morning, everyone. It is our greatest…” He paused, mustache twitching as he sought his next words.

“… honor to announce that King Amonrew of Olmstead will be joining us for the union between my son, Marius, and his betrothed, Princess Valeria.”

I kept my face impassive, careful not to let anyone believe that I had reason to fear, but Ria’s shoulders tightened. Beside her, Prince Marius choked on a sip of wine.

“We are delighted to welcome them to our court,” continued King Hergarv, sounding anything but. He glared at Marius, who was still coughing, and gestured to a guard, who thumped him on the back. This seemed to fix the problem, and Marius sat up, red-faced.

Ria glowered at him.

Did she know? Marius probably didn’t, but had Ria kept this a secret?

Occasionally, she received letters from home, and I was allowed to pore over them like textbooks, eager to glean any piece of Olmstead from them.

Our brothers were fine—bored, but fine. Father was angry, overwhelmed by shifting trade routes and shady wine sellers.

In a completely uncharacteristic display of diplomacy, even Queen Elberia inquired as to Ria’s welfare.

But I’d seen no hint of an impending visit in those letters.

The rest of the day passed in chaos. The guest rooms had to be prepared, and quickly. My father and brothers were only a week out at this point, probably nearly halfway down the pass.

Unfathomable. Dread crept up my spine.

Avens sought me out, frantic. “Miss Arina!” he whispered, whisking me into a room empty of everything but a desk and bookshelves. I had just dropped off the laundry and was mercifully empty-handed. I’d hate to be accused of absconding with Princess Odalla’s linens. “You need to leave!”

I tried to smile. I felt like my face cracked in half. “I can’t. Where could I go?”

“I’ve enough coin for a room in the city,” insisted Avens.

Today, he wore a pale blue doublet that washed out his freckled complexion.

“Listen, you can hide there for a few nights. After the wedding, we’ll leave.

Get a head start toward Olmstead, eh?” His twitching eye betrayed his angst, ruined his most dashing grin that he always threw at the patrons of taverns and royal courts (and now, apparently, me ).

“I can’t go,” I mumbled, staring at the ground. I noted with detachment that it was in desperate need of a good sweeping. Dust and dirt gathered in the cracks between stones like a grout of filth.

“Why not?” he demanded. “Princess Talina, do not, I repeat, do not ask me to witness your execution. You are one of my oldest friends, and I won’t abide by it. Let me help you.”

“I can’t,” I said, forcing myself to meet his eye. “If I leave now?—”

“Valeria will be fine!” he howled, throwing his arms up. “It’s you I’m worried about. If the Tocchians finds out who you are?—”

The door swung open behind us. Avens and I both gasped, leaping away from each other.

Marius sauntered through the door, like it was completely normal for a prince to spend time in what I now realized was probably a scribe’s office.

“ Tocchia is already aware,” Marius said, straightening his cloak around his shoulders. He didn’t make eye contact with either one of us. “Or, well, part of it is.”

Avens took a protective step toward me. “Look, we can work something out?—”

“We don’t need to work anything out,” said Marius, with pained patience. “Listen, it’s not—” He massaged his temple with ringed fingers and frowned. “May I talk to Princess Talina alone, please?”

I was shocked at his civility. The last few times he’d seen me with Avens, he looked ready to punch a wall .

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Avens firmly, chest puffing out.

Something in Marius’s eyes flashed. But when he spoke, his tone was calm, civil. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt anyone, I promise. I would also very much like to find a solution to this dilemma.”

Avens glanced between us, appalled. “You didn’t,” he said to me, wide-eyed and disbelieving.

I winced. “I might have.”

Marius, for his part, kept his usually expressive face flat. “She definitely did.”

Avens took a slow, measured breath. “Right, then,” he said. “Seems I’m not needed here. Come find me if you change your mind,” he said. With a nod and a twitch, he was off, through the heavy wooden door and down the hall.

“Avens!” I cried, starting after him, but he was already gone, flashing around the corner.

Marius stood behind me, wearing a pained expression. “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have?—”

My chest heaved with anger. “You’re right! You shouldn’t have! He was just trying to help!”

“Yes, and I actually do appreciate that,” said Marius, face softening. “If worst came to worst, I know he wouldn’t abandon you.”

“It’s a flaw,” I sighed, and leaned my hip against a desk piled high with papers. “What do you want?”

“Mostly, I wanted to know if you were alright. Then I saw you go into a room with the bard, and I—well, I wanted to know why.”

Wait. Was he jealous? Had he truly not realized? “Yes, well, I’d follow Avens anywhere. We’re old friends and he’s not interested, if you know what I mean.”

“Um, yes,” said Marius, glancing down at the ground. “I realize that. Listen, I’m sorry, I ought to have just asked you about it later.”

“You should have.” I glared at him. “I need to get back to work. ”

Marius gave a stiff nod. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes,” I said. A part of me was angry enough to consider not showing up, but I knew I’d regret it later, when our interactions were even more limited.

“Alright, then,” he said, lips twitching in a grim imitation of a smile. “I look forward to it.”

I left, eager to return to work. But the day dragged on. I fretted after Avens. Conjured fantasy after fantasy of all the ways my father’s arrival could go wrong. He might see me as I tried to hide. Might wage war for my custody. Might abandon me to Tocchia’s whims as punishment for leaving him.

Now matter how badly he wanted to, Marius might not be able to protect me. I thought of the dungeons and a tremble reached all the way to my bones.

Maybe it would be better to run away with Avens. Perhaps I still could. Marius might help us, if reluctantly.

I spent the day fighting back tears, reeling from possibility to possibility as I gathered laundry and emptied chamber pots and prepared the guest rooms. Which rooms would belong to my brothers?

Which was King Amonrew’s? If I sprayed their favorite perfumes on the pillows, or placed a vase of my favorite pink peonies on the bureau, would they know that I’d been there?

That evening, I helped Ria prepare for bed. “Did you know?” I asked, selecting a nightgown from her wardrobe. “That they were coming?”

She shook her head. “No. It was a shock to me, too.” When she looked at me, her eyes were wet. “What will you do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Avens thinks I should hide out in the city for a few days.”

Ria nodded. “I could arrange the coin for you.”

My heart thundered in my chest. Words formed on my tongue and grew stale there. Finally, I managed to say, “Should I—should I simply… tell everyone? ”

At Ria’s expression, I knew I’d made a mistake. “No!” she hissed. “Have you gone mad? Tocchia will think you’re a spy!”

I slumped onto the bed. “You’re right,” I said. “You’re right. But what if I pledged my loyalty? Do you think they’d accept me then?”

Ria ducked behind her changing screen, nightgown in hand. “If they did, you probably wouldn’t like the terms.”

“Good point.” I fell back onto the bedspread and kicked my feet off the floor. “But they already knew I was from Olmstead. Why would it matter if I just lied a little about who I was?”

“They have more authority over a servant,” Ria explained. “A princess? Under these circumstances? They’ll want you punished. Exiled, at absolute best.”

Exiled . The word carved itself into my heart one stinging letter at a time.

I hadn’t been in Tocchia long, but I hated to be banished.

My stomach turned into a mess of knots. I’d miss the sea, the fields, the mountain view, even Liridin as it drifted through the sky and cast its massive shadow. “I don’t want that, either.”

“Yes, well, that would probably be the best outcome for you,” said Ria, ever the realist.

“So you think I should hide?”

Ria’s head popped out from behind the screen. “Yes. That’s exactly what I think you should do.”

Two nights later, I found Marius pacing before the altar. Back and forth like a caged beast, teeth gritted.

The nighttime air was hot and swampy, even in the Star Room, which was always chillier than the rest of the castle. (Probably because it wasn’t actually in the castle. Marius refused to confirm or deny its location, but I had my suspicions.)