Page 56 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

T he palace was ablaze with energy. It was the day before King Amonrew’s arrival, and servants flitted around like flies, tidying corners, setting up last minute rooms, preparing endless feasts.

All day long, my hands shook. There were a million ways this could go wrong, and I was wholly unprepared for every single one of them. I could not even look Ria in the eye.

For all that I loved her fiercely, I also desperately loved Marius. Watching them eat their breakfasts side by side, I feared that there was no way I could keep both of them.

Last night, both Ria and Avens pleaded with me to hide in the city.

I shook my head each time, stubbornly determined to stay until Marius met with King Hergarv.

Neither could understand it. Ria cried. Avens swore to stand by until the last possible moment, ready and willing to skip the wedding and run, should I change my mind.

Inspired by their fears, I packed the essentials, prepared to flee if things went badly. I hid the bag under my bed and hoped no one looked at it too closely.

I was faint with anxiety. It would be too easy to lose my footing, or to drop something irreplaceable, so I clung to even the feather duster with white knuckles and watched every step like a dancer in a competition. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, depleted by panic.

After dinner, I followed Ria up to her rooms. Tension built in my shoulders, my chest. I knew even before she spoke what she would say. Regret writhed within me like a beast caught in a bear-trap, desperate to escape.

I dug through her wardrobe in search of a nightgown, my hands trembling with such force that I nearly tore the fabric as I ripped the dress free from its hook.

“Talina,” Ria said, her voice tight. She pulled the dress from my hands, and laid it on her bedspread, then turned to face me. For the first time, I noticed that her lips were bitten and raw. “Please. Just go with Avens. He can make sure you’re safe.”

“I’ll decide at midnight,” I told her, the same line I’d repeated all week. “I promise.”

“I’m afraid for you,” she said, chewing on her lip, eyes meeting mine. Unshed tears shined there, and I shifted guiltily.

“I know,” I said. “I just—I can’t decide.”

“What decision is there?” Ria groaned, pulling the pins loose from her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders. “You need to go. Go be happy. Free. Away from this place.”

“I don’t hate it here,” I reminded her, but she only shook her head.

“You should. It’s full of miserable people. A miserable king, a miserable queen, a miserable future husband…”

“What about Princess Odalla? And Prince Gavin?” I’d seen Ria interact with Gavin plenty, especially at meals, where he told jokes that left most of us unaffected. But Ria stifled her laughter and lowered her gaze. If they weren’t friends, they were at least friend ly .

“Oh, they’re all right, I suppose. But you shouldn’t stay here. It isn’t worth the risk, Talina.” Her hands grasped mine. “Please. ”

“I’ll think about it,” I promised, and left for the night, my knees so weak that I nearly collapsed outside her door.

On shaking legs, I waited for Marius in the library. Two hours before midnight, he said. Later than I usually met him, but that was all right. If it meant that our plan had even the slightest chance of working…

But he didn’t appear. I fought the urge to search the library, to scour between shelves until I found some trace of him.

Only grim determination kept me from panicking. I sat primly, pretending to read. There was no way I could focus right now. Not when the words blurred before my eyes, and my pounding heart drowned out my thoughts.

It was nearly midnight when Fallamor found me.

He strode between shelves, long braid draped over his shoulder.

In the oppressive summer heat, he wore breeches, a flowing shirt, and little else.

While Marius always slinked around in a hooded cloak after dark, Fallamor looked like he belonged on a beach.

I was surprised to see him. As far as I knew, he’d left to convene with his people and hadn’t yet returned.

When he spotted me, he hurried over. There was a strange urgency to his normally unflappable demeanor. “Miss Arina,” he said, voice low, eyes flashing. “Come with me. Quickly, please.”

I leapt to my feet as though spring-loaded. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “And nothing yet.”

“Then why follow you? I promised Mar- someone that I would meet him here,” I said.

“ Someone is in a spot of trouble,” said Fallamor, reaching for my hand. “I think it’s best if you aren’t easily accessible.”

Reluctantly, I followed Fallamor downstairs, out the library door, and across the hall.

We dipped into the alcove beside a staircase, where he searched along the stone wall, pressing and prodding at individual bricks until a click!

sounded. There came a faint grinding, and then a rectangle of wall sprang out, roughly the size of a coffin.

I yelped and jumped away, then realized it was only a door. Another hidden passageway.

Unfazed, Fallamor yanked on the door until it swung open on ancient, creaking hinges, revealing a long, cavernous hallway.

“In here,” he said, gesturing. “Quickly.”

“It’s dark,” I protested, but strong hands shoved me into the shadows.

I shrieked. Fallamor pushed his way in behind me, and the door closed.

My old fear of attack or imprisonment flared to life, and I fought down panic.

I trusted Fallamor, even if I was afraid of being trapped in a tight, dark passage.

“It’s alright,” he said. His voice echoed in the tunnel, which was black as a void. “I promise. Listen, we’re just going to hide in here for a little bit, all right? Marius knows where to find us.”

I shivered like a wet dog. “What’s going on? Why won’t you tell me anything?”

“Because I don’t know anything!” he snarled.

I recoiled. He’d never spoked to me like that before.

Gone was his familiar gentle mockery, his even-keel tone.

Right now, he sounded one inconvenience away from punching something.

Hopefully not me , I thought, and took a step away from him.

“I only arrived last night. Marius more or less confessed that he’d gone completely mad, and then he asked me to look after you if he was intercepted. Which he was,” Fallamor grumbled.

My stomach dropped. “Intercepted? How?”

“I don’t know,” Fallamor groaned. “All I know is that he was summoned to meet with the king earlier than scheduled, and he never reappeared.”

“What does that mean?”

“Could mean anything. He might be taking tea. He might be having a lovely meeting with his father. Or he could be in the dungeons. I was sent to remove you from danger, not him.”

The dungeons. Gods, how could we be so stupid? How could Marius have believed his father would listen to us? And I’d fallen for it all !

“Shit,” I said. Tears poured down my face. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” said Fallamor gently. “Come on, follow me. If we take this passage, there’s a nice little hidden room. We can go there, alright?”

“Alright,” I whined. Using the wall to guide me, I trailed after him.

I tripped twice on the uneven floor but managed to keep my balance.

Probably a good thing, I surmised. I didn’t want to know what sorts of creatures populated this passage, and I certainly didn’t want to find out firsthand.

When we reached the end of the tunnel, Fallamor pulled a lever, and another door opened.

The room revealed might’ve been cozy if it weren’t so dusty.

An artificial moon hovered in the air, illuminating two armchairs, a cabinet of weapons (two swords and a rather brutal-looking mace), and a table with an ancient set of Troop.

Carved from wood, it was halfway to rotten.

If I scraped my fingernails over the pieces, they would surely disintegrate.

“Guess no one has used this in a little while,” Fallamor said, patting one of the armchairs. Dust flew.

I glanced around. “Whose room was this? How do you know about it?”

“Centuries ago, this was Princess Prella’s room.” He shrugged. “And I only know about it because Marius showed me.”

I exhaled. Maybe Fallamor had brought me here to imprison me, but I had no real reason to distrust him. I sat in one of the dusty chairs, and a cloud erupted around me. By the time I left this place, I’d be grey as a ghost. “Thank you,” I said.

My sword was stowed carefully under my bed, but I wore a knife strapped to my thigh.

Marius warned me that it might be considered an act of aggression if I brought a weapon to our meeting with the king, so I begrudgingly left it behind, and reached instead for my thigh sheath.

I’d not be left defenseless in an emergency.

The knife was pinched between my leg and the chair, but I made no move to adjust it. What use was a secret weapon if it wasn’t a secret?

“You’re welcome,” said Fallamor, sighing.

He flopped into a chair as though he hadn’t seen the layers of grime.

The chair screeched, wood and nails threatening to pull free, and Fallamor tensed as if expecting it to collapse.

When that didn’t happen, he looked me in the eye, and said, “Marius tells me you’re Princess Talina. Is that true?”

The blood drained from my face. I forced myself to whisper, “Yes.”

“I see,” he murmured, gaze growing distant. “What a foolish endeavor,” he said, almost to himself. When he spoke again, it was with uncharacteristic severity. “Marius also told me he wants to marry you.”

I was too exhausted to do anything other than nod. “I know. It’s mad.”