Page 1 of Wicked Prince of Shadows (Wicked Princes #2)

CHAPTER ONE

Despite the comfortable temperature of spring, a chill settled hard in my bones… like some sort of warning. My magic swirled inside me, unsettled.

Stop looking. Stop worrying. The Hollow King isn’t coming. He never comes. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted as I stood at the top of the royal garden wall, peering out into the ruins scattered across the valley.

My chest twisted, missing my family just as much as the day I’d lost them. Despite being in such a luxurious place, I'd never felt more alone and vulnerable. I didn't belong here. I never had.

The ache in my heart pierced as my knees weakened.

I fisted my hands in the borrowed blue silk dress and stared at the blood moon. Princess Enola’s royal rings caught on the embroidery and veil. They weren't mine, and they would never feel comfortable.

Already the faintest tinges of red marred the moon’s shining silver surface, an ominous reminder of what was to come. A shiver ran down my spine, and I swallowed hard.

I’d seen several blood moons over the years and survived the challenges they brought like bad luck, poisoned rivers, blight, and more. Maladies that took months to recover from. Most falsely hoped it was nothing but superstition and chance, but that was ridiculous.

Everyone knew it, though they tried to pretend it was just bad luck.

I'd believed the same until my whole family was wiped out in a freak accident. The tower had crumbled, its foundation made unsteady from rapid construction and a few key errors in oversight.

And I knew the truth.

Blood moons were a curse. Whatever bad there was in the world, they intensified it.

And this blood moon was all the more dangerous. It felt as if death and shadows hunted me.

Maybe it was because of a pair of ominous ghost owls' sang, summoning the supernatural world like some sort of dare. In line with that warning, loon yodels vibrated in the air.

I wanted the blood moon over.

Crickets chirped, adding to the noise that pressed against me like some sort of death song.

I inhaled shakily and closed my eyes, trying to pull my thoughts together. I couldn’t let my emotions get away from me. That desire didn't make the anxiety ease.

Something whooshed past my ears, and I opened my eyes.

My breath caught as a ghost owl flapped right in front of my face. Its black bulging eyes stared right into mine, its bark-colored wings flapping.

I stumbled back, and the owl flew toward the queen’s statue fashioned into the central fountain. It flew before her, then perched on her shoulder, cooing and calling in that haunting voice as if warning her that the Hollow King was returning to take his revenge on our entire kingdom.

The legend hung like a millstone around my neck. I curled my hand against the base of my throat, trying to calm myself. Dark fog rolled in from miles away, inching toward us.

The stone ruins on the other side of the steep valley were where the Hollow Kingdom once lay centuries ago, nestled among the ragged peaks and fading into darkness.

A place that took six days by foot to reach now felt as if it was just a short hop and a walk away.

As if all the eyes of the cursed and undead now fixed on me from within the darkness.

After all this time, why would he come now? And why come here? This was the Peace Garden and Enola’s private sanctuary. It had been warded with all the most powerful magic.

Stop, I chastised myself. I was just being paranoid. I should be enjoying my time pretending to be the princess and indulging in luxury while Enola enjoyed her time at the festival. It should have been a pleasant change for both of us. But my mind refused to calm.

As the wind changed, it was easier to catch the scent and sound of the festival.

The delicious fragrance of spiced chocolate, saffron herbed rice, and grilled meats made my mouth water.

There were pastries and seared fruit on the table beneath the bower, but I had no appetite.

The strains of soft music brought me more comfort, beautiful notes from fiddles, bones, and frame drums as well as the one merchant and his steel drums reaching my ears.

That's probably where I would have been right now if it hadn’t been for Princess Enola begging for me to pretend to be her so she could get some freedom she rarely had.

And as always, no matter how much I teased and chastised Enola on other matters, I agreed to do this, which had me stuck in this sanctuary by myself.

Hugging myself, I swayed, but my muscles tightened.

The music merged with bird and insect songs.

See. They wouldn’t be singing if it were dangerous, I tried reassuring myself.

That was one of the first rules of the forest. Only the ghost owls didn’t care about danger to us. They only went silent in the face of the most dangerous and cruel magic. The owl at the fountain called out again, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

I dug my fingernails into my palms and forced myself to turn and walk down the broad polished stairs that led from the garden wall into the main area. Standing here wasn’t helping matters. I needed to do something to keep my mind preoccupied. Maybe I could weed a little bit. That might be soothing.

Another owl called out, and I tilted my head. I looked at the tree and noticed the thin fronds of strangler figs dangling from the top.

My eyebrow lifted. How had the royal gardeners missed that? The thin tendrils had wrapped around the top of the tree. Strangler figs would creep down and strangle the entire host tree in time. Beautiful though the strangler fig might become, these magnolias were sacred.

If this skirt hadn't had so many layers and I didn’t hate heights so much, I'd have climbed up there and handled them myself.

My magic lay with plants, but I had to be in contact with them to make it work.

It wasn't enough to just touch the trunk of a connecting tree. But climbing any tree to weed or use magic was something Enola wouldn’t do, and it would ruin my appearance, making it more likely someone would notice me and figure out Enola wasn't here.

Amber-orange eyes flashed between the tree and me as if something had looked through a veil. I stumbled back, blinking hard to open them to find that nothing was there after all.

The blood moon was already getting to me, and it had barely begun. I inhaled deeply and scanned the garden. I kept waiting for the amber-orange eyes to appear again, but I was alone. Another shudder coursed down my spine.

I had to stop being ridiculous. I was safe. This was the Peace Garden. Nothing could hurt me here.

Exhaling, I tried to focus on the massive stunning garden with multiple levels of purple, blue, and white flowering plants in ornately painted pots and elaborately carved boxes forming intertwining terraces and a large courtyard in the center.

Princess Enola herself had had many parties in this garden as had her parents.

It was large enough for hundreds of guests to mingle, but now it was eerie.

A pair of pale magnolia trees provided a bower with a delicate swing hanging from a long, curved branch.

The floral bower held a squishy blue and white embroidered cushion for sitting to think or read with a small area for refreshments.

And in the center was a large marble fountain with the representation of Tanith the Giving Queen standing strong, her hand outstretched with the palm up to warn the Hollow King back as she had done when she bested him centuries ago.

The clear waters dulled as I looked at them. A faint hint of rot wafted toward me as well. Scowling, I darted forward, dipped my hand in, and smelled the water. It was still light and sweet as it should be. But…I tasted it cautiously. A faint bitter note marred the usual flavor.

Then the scent strengthened, and the waters darkened.

My head spun, and my stomach churned.

Had something crawled into the cistern and died? That had to be it. It wasn’t like it’d be anything else. All the wards and protection was in place. There was nothing else odd about the garden aside from the blood moon rising. And the flash of red eyes.

Be calm. Breathe. Nothing is wrong. You’re imagining things.

If I crossed to the opposite wall, I could turn my back on the barrens and the steep cliffs and this beautiful garden and look down over the city to see the festival in all its beauty and glory.

My heart raced faster as I paced out toward the opposite side of the garden and paused at the little bower made by the flowering trees.

Beneath it sat the cushion and the small table with treats, a carafe of chilled white wine with peaches, oranges, pomegranates, and berries, and an elegant wine glass with a feathered serpent sculpted along the base.

Enola had probably made it to the Market Terrace by now.

I paused and smiled. Despite being a princess or perhaps because she was, she always took far more delight in the festivities than I did.

Honestly, I'd probably not be there at the festival.

I'd probably be up on my flat-roofed home outside the city, enjoying the music and watching the stars. Alone. As I usually was.

It wasn’t the first time we’d traded places over the years, but attending the Week of the Moon as a common herbalist and gardener like me instead of in all the grandeur of the princess was her favorite.

She’d swapped her pale embroidered silk gown, sheer veils, and elegant rings for my coarse hood, cotton dress, and beaded sash.

She was likely dancing around the bonfire or playing games of balance and chance instead of panicking about legends and darkening waters.

If I climbed those stairs and reached the far ward, I’d see it all. Beautiful, bright, vibrant.

Yet my feet locked into place, an unnatural heaviness blanketing over me. My mouth dried as the bitterness coating my tongue intensified.