Page 6 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

Ria, Timin, and I continued down the hall. The guards outside my father’s chambers were familiar. Hax and Larry had worked in the castle for nigh on a decade now. My shoulders relaxed at the sight of them. Good. Maybe everything was alright after all.

Besides, it wasn’t like Father would tell me if it wasn’t.

Our family meetings were usually held at the breakfast table, or the throne room, the war room, even the library.

But today, most of these places were filled with people we didn’t know or trust (aside from the war room, which was locked and guarded).

Father’s private chambers were some of the most secure in the castle.

While they were indeed fit for a king, Father eschewed finery as “flippant and of little import,” and his rooms reflected this.

The mirror on the wall had gathered cobwebs in its frame of gilded leaves and pinecones.

A tapestry in the wall clung to its former glory—the maiden beneath the tree had all but faded away.

Her centaur lover’s legs were moth eaten.

The sea of stars above them had paled into something resembling a blue sky.

A simple chest and wardrobe held all of Father’s clothes. The desk was littered with candle stumps and loose papers. A fur rug lay before the fireplace, ragged and dusty.

The only sign of luxury in the room was a silver tray, holding an overturned teacup and a crust of hearty bread.

No wonder Queen Elberia preferred to keep her own chambers.

Ria and I sat in the high-backed chairs across from the tiny breakfast table while Timin stood by the door, hands behind her back. “Your Highness,” she said, stiff but pleasant.

“Miss Timin,” said Father, rising from his desk. “Forgive me, but I’d like for you to wait outside. I must speak to the girls alone.”

Timin curtsied and departed, nearly tripping over her skirts.

“Girls,” he sighed, looking toward us. “Step away from the door, please. You know how I feel about that.”

“I know,” I sighed, getting to my feet. “Eavesdroppers and rogues.”

“Eavesdroppers and rogues,” he agreed. The corners of his lips tilted into the barest hint of a smile. “You both look lovely tonight.”

I spun in a quick circle to show off my dress, drawing another smile from him.

At my side, Ria nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”

Father’s banquet attire was militarized.

His breastplate bore the family crest. His armor, though far from a full suit, covered anything vulnerable.

Shoulders and knees padded, bracers on his forearms, a knife hidden on each limb, sword at both hips, he looked ready for battle.

A fur lined cape was held in place by a pin in the shape of a stag.

Every part of him gleamed. Even his famously unruly beard had been tamed, slicked down and tied neatly with a leather band.

“I’m sure you’re already aware of the nature of this meeting,” he said, voice gruff. “Valeria, after everything that happened with Tocchia, we must find you a new suitor. I’ve my eye on several, but I thought it best to ask if you’re partial to anyone. ”

“No, Your Highness,” said Ria coldly. “I cannot say that any are to my liking.”

Father’s eyes narrowed. “Then I suggest you spend tonight with an open mind, or I will be forced to choose for you.”

Ria scowled at the floor. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“And Talina,” said Father, turning to me. “I’d advise you to do the same. At some point, you must marry. I’d like both of you to find joyful unions, if at all possible.”

Ria’s scowl only deepened.

I clapped my hands together, and chirped, “Of course, Father!”

Now I was the subject of Ria’s ire, which meant that she and Father wouldn’t have one of their famous arguments right before the banquet.

She’d sneer and snipe at me all night, but that was fine, because she’d forgive me by morning, whereas a fight with Father would leave the entire castle tense for weeks.

“Good,” said Father, his features relaxing. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to behave yourselves tonight. Go have fun.”

“Certainly,” I said, curtsying. Ria followed suit with a roll of her big, blue eyes.

“I can’t believe you,” she muttered as soon as we were outside. “‘ Yes, Father!’ ” she cried, voice high and mocking. “‘ Whatever you say, Father!’ As if he doesn’t control every aspect of our lives already!”

I shrugged. “I must marry. I think it’s kind of him to consider our wishes.”

“It is the absolute least he can do,” Ria muttered. “Honestly, it takes almost nothing to make you happy.”

I winced.

At my expression, Ria pursed her lips and looked away. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m only envious.”

“It’s alright,” I told her, but I’d lost some of the bounce in my step.

“No,” she said, lowering her voice as Timin approached. “ You’re right. We must marry. I’ve prepared for this my entire life. I must accept it.”

“That’s not—” I began.

But Timin cut me off. “Princesses! There you are! I trust you had a pleasant conversation?”

“Your trust is misplaced,” Ria grumbled.

“It was as we expected,” I said, and shrugged. “He reminded us to behave.”

“Good advice,” said Timin, nodding. “Well, then. Let’s head to the banquet, shall we?”

“Of course,” I said, and Ria rolled her eyes.