CHAPTER FOUR

“My daughter, Princess Asterin Faelenhart of Axaria,” Queen Priscilla announced as Asterin glided down the crimson carpet stretching all the way from the hall’s entrance to the throne. Eadric stationed himself at the doors while Garringsford sauntered over to the queen. Gold-flecked marble pilasters jutted from the walls, rising like colossal redwoods to meet the ceiling. Like the painting in Asterin’s chambers, though here in sculpted magnificence, the Council of Immortals looked down from the ceiling around a massive ruby-encrusted chandelier, the gods and goddesses bearing witness to all official royal affairs. Lord Conrye faced the door to greet new visitors. The steel whip of Lady Reyva cracked over his right shoulder, and the trident of Lord Tidus crested a wave of marble at his left.

Two figures stood shoulder to shoulder before the throne, clad in identical green cloaks brocaded with swirls of silver. Their hoods obscured their faces in shadow. As one, they turned to Asterin and swept to the ground in deep bows.

The left figure spoke first—a female. “Your Royal Highness.”

“Rise,” Asterin commanded. They complied. When the girl lifted the hood off her head, bright auburn locks tumbled free, revealing a fair complexion, a pert nose peppered with freckles, and full lips twisted in a roguish smile. And her eyes. The girl’s eyes smoldered beneath the high arches of her brows like a setting sun, molten gold and flecked with amber. She couldn’t have been more than a year or two Asterin’s senior, but the spark in those eyes held something else—something much older.

“Rose Fletcher,” the girl began in introduction, her voice ringing out through the cavernous room. “And this is my cousin. We have been sent from the kingdom of Eradore by Her Royal Majesty, Queen Orozalia Saville of Eradore and the House of the Serpent. In honor of her recent accession, she has extended an offering of peace and allegiance to the nine kingdoms. We are two of her best soldiers.”

Asterin stared when Rose bowed again. “You are the peace offering?”

“On her behalf, we are wholly at your service, Your Highness.”

“My service?” Asterin turned to her mother for clarification.

Queen Priscilla waved airily, eyes almost turquoise in the light of the chandelier. “General Garringsford has her hands full looking after the newest batch of palace guard recruits, but I understand there happens to be two openings in your Elite Royal Guard, Princess Asterin.”

For a moment, Asterin couldn’t summon a response. It was true—Petyr and Tanya had been promoted to high-authority positions in Orielle, the seaport city on the west coast of the kingdom. Even so … surely her mother realized the risk of recruiting two foreign soldiers into her Elites. Asterin looked to Eadric helplessly. He shook his head. Speak now or you’ll have to hold your tongue. Her fists curled and her mouth opened, but what could she say? Now that her mother had sanctioned it, there was no way to refuse, not now, not with Rose Fletcher’s golden eyes locked upon her, lest she insult their queen by rejecting them.

Finally, Asterin bowed, first to her mother, and then the foreigners. “I am humbled by your queen’s generosity. It is my honor to accept.”

Queen Priscilla rose from her throne. “Wonderful. Now, I beg your pardons, but I must ask for your leave. I have some business to attend to.” And with that she turned away to address Garringsford while simultaneously leafing through a pile of papers the general had produced out of nowhere.

Asterin spun on her heel, striding out of Throne Hall, Eadric and the two Eradorians following close behind. In the silence that followed, only her and Eadric’s footsteps—the steady click-tap of hard leather soles—could be heard. The Eradorians wore similar boots, laced to the knee—but their soft-soled steps were those of ghosts.

“Eadric, if you’d please escort these two to the barracks?” she prompted. “See to their uniforms as well.”

The captain saluted. “Right away, Princess Asterin.”

“Your Highness,” Rose said, just as they were parting ways—Asterin to her chambers and her newest recruits down to the concourse, which separately housed both the palace guards and the Elites.

Asterin stopped but did not turn. “Yes?”

Rose spoke with a smile in her voice. “Forgive me any disrespect, but you seem rather apprehensive about this arrangement.”

At that, Asterin huffed a laugh and faced her. “Forgive me, Rose,” she said, not unkindly, “but I’m sure you can imagine my concerns. For one, your cousin has yet to even show their face,” she pointed out, glancing at the shifting outline of hard muscle hidden beneath the cloak. Eadric’s hand twitched to rest lightly upon the pommel of his sword.

“He’s shy,” Rose said, drawing a scoff from beneath her cousin’s hood.

“For another,” Asterin went on, “Eradoris has always been a city of great mystery to the rest of the world, what with the sequestering of your inner city and the royal family. Your kingdom reveals only the name of your ruler, and nothing more until the crown is passed on.”

“For protection,” said Rose.

“Yes, but from what?” Asterin asked. “Are guards not enough? The world hasn’t seen war for over three centuries. The other kingdoms divulge all the knowledge that yours refuses to—and now your queen sends out two vessels of information to each kingdom? Perhaps you’re spies—perhaps not. Either way, I can promise you one thing. I will not judge you differently from the other Elites unless you give me reason to, good or bad. Trust is earned, and once you have proven yourselves worthy, you will have mine.”

Rose tilted her head, and Asterin got the sudden impression that she was being evaluated. Despite the girl’s unremarkable height, something about her presence left Asterin feeling unsettled. She certainly had no desire to make enemies with this Rose Fletcher.

“And how might we achieve that, Your Highness?” asked the Eradorian.

Asterin resumed her way up the stairs. “That’s up to you.”

“Your Highness, one more thing,” Rose called out. “We brought you a gift.”

“Oh, enough with the damned gifts,” Asterin muttered to herself, but pasted on a smile and plodded back down the steps to indulge her. “What is it?”

“An affinity stone,” Rose said. Asterin nearly fled right then and there, Garringsford’s shrieks echoing in her head. But then the girl added, “It holds the power of all nine elements.”

“All nine?” Stones that bore two or three or even four sigils certainly existed, but nine … Asterin exchanged a quick glance with Eadric. He shrugged.

“Yes. Our queen struggled for years with her powers, but this stone allowed her to unlock the fullest potential of her magic—and I do mean the fullest.”

Asterin stared openly at her. “Your queen is omnifinitied?”

Rose’s lips quirked at her obvious interest. “Indeed. Behold the omnistone.” She held out a small silk pouch, the same forest green as her cloak. “If it helps you like it did our queen, perhaps you could allow yourself to trust us a little more.”

Eadric stepped forward, but Asterin held up a hand. She could handle this herself. She took the pouch, pulled its drawstrings open, and peered within. The stone rested at the bottom, a round teardrop the size of an eye and as clear as water. So small and unassuming, she thought, and slipped it out. She inhaled sharply as it rolled into her palm, the world dipping violently beneath her feet. Her eyes widened, her blood flowing with an electricity she had never before experienced. She could feel the stone’s power, thrumming in her palms like the wings of a hummingbird. “What—”

Suddenly, Rose’s cousin was at her shoulder, a featherlight hand on her waist to steady her. “If I told you the omnistone could unlock all your affinities,” he murmured into her ear, voice as soft as velvet midnight, “would you let it?”

Her lips parted. She wouldn’t have believed him, if not for the overwhelming magic radiating from the stone. She had tried for years to unlock another element. Garringsford’s words taunted her constantly. It’s always difficult admitting failure. She imagined how far the general’s jaw would drop and how proud her mother would be if she proved Garringsford wrong. She wanted it so badly that she could taste it. Asterin clutched the stone harder and gave him a nod.

Rose’s cousin placed his other hand over hers and entwined their fingers, trapping the stone between their palms. Asterin resisted a shiver, the firm planes of his chest grazing intimately against her back. “By the way,” he said, “this might hurt a bit.”

Eadric’s eyes widened. “Wait, hold on—”

“A lot,” Rose corrected. “Ready?”

“What?” Eadric squawked. “Now? Here? Your Highness, this isn’t a good idea—”

Asterin ignored him. “What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Just trust me,” that midnight voice whispered again, his grip tightening on her waist. Before she could reply, his hands grew hot, like coals. “Helt Avsloradovion.”

The unfamiliar incantation sent a wave of shudders roiling through Asterin’s whole body. Her vision flared white and her knees buckled. The scent of smoke and cold mountain air enveloped her as she sank into the warmth of his waiting arms, and then everything went black.