Lia was hard to miss. A pale Vistan in a sea of Elgathans, she waited just outside the dining hall. Her silky blonde hair had been coiled on top of her head and wrapped in a braid. The color had always reminded Ken of butter. When they were children, she’d been the first Vistan he’d ever met, and he’d wondered then if it felt as soft and smooth as butter as well. But that was a decade ago. He knew better now.
As he approached, she smiled and curtsied. Lia only wore long gowns for special occasions, and her floor-length seafoam dress marked this as such.
He offered his arm.
She took it and whispered, “You were inside a long time after the ambassador left. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. Father wanted to skim the document the ambassador gave us before dinner. That, and I think he wanted to make him wait just to show that he could.”
“I take it I shall have to play my part as the happily-conquered with conviction, then?”
“Yes, but you’re perfectly paired with the not-at-all-fragile heir. We can fake our smiles together.”
She stifled a small laugh. “Not that you’ve ever made that difficult.”
He smiled back with a dramatic sigh, clutching his heart for effect. “Ah, there’s the acknowledgment.” He loved to make her laugh, especially at formal events. She would bite her cheek or hold her breath to keep the laughter at bay, only for them both to burst into fits at the first moment of privacy.
Lia looked past him. “Conora!” She dipped a quick curtsy to Ken’s sister as she stopped in front of them.
Though two years younger, Conora towered over Lia. Her dark blue gown shimmered in the candlelight, as did the silver filigree headband in her flowing dark brown hair. Conora appeared as the opposite of Lia in every aspect: one tall, rich, and elaborate, the other small, light, and simple—on the outside. In truth, the two were kindred spirits.
Conora flashed a surprised smile and touched Lia’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you were joining us! It’s been too long.”
“Your brother invited me at the king’s request.”
Conora’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean…?”
“Just until the ambassador leaves,” Ken said, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. He had lied about the invite being entirely Father’s idea. He had wanted to summon Vistan noblemen only, but Ken had convinced him that Lia and her family would be more amiable than the disgruntled nobility. What he hadn’t lied about was his true reason: it was a convenient excuse to openly spend time with his best friend.
“Oh…” A smile crept over Conora’s face. “In that case, I think I might need a new dress. Perhaps a dog is destroying one right now—a plain one, of course. Don’t want to be wasteful…”
Lia grinned. “You know, Mom was worried that your gold one might not sit perfectly on your hips. It might be wise to have it fitted again.”
“Even better.”
It had been so much easier when they were younger. Mother and Father had interfered less in their friendships then. Ken and Conora hadn’t needed to invent reasons to visit the servants’ wing. This one wasn’t much of a stretch. Conora loved dresses, and Lia’s mother, Hortensia, was the finest seamstress in the Cedar Palace.
“Speaking of Hortensia,” Ken said, “is she coming with Abhenric tonight?”
Lia shrugged. “They were both gone by the time I was dressed, so I’d assume they’re inside already.”
“We should be as well,” Conora said.
“We were headed that way until someone stopped in front of us,” Ken joked.
She put a hand on her hip and shot him a dirty look. “You know, Odelia, you are more than welcome to sit with me if he’s going to be a pest.”
He laughed. “Hey. Stop trying to poach my guest.”
Lia faux whispered, “I’d rather keep an eye on him anyway.”
“And…we’re going in before you two can conspire against me.” Ken led her toward the door again.
Just before they reached it, someone cleared their throat behind him. “What are you doing?” Mother whispered in his ear.
Ken turned. “Escorting my dinner guest.”
Opulent as ever, pearls adorned her black hair and gold tiara, and gold embroidery covered her corn-silk lace gown. She tacked on a strained smile and pulled him aside several feet, leaving Lia by the doorway. “This is a state dinner. What is she doing here?”
“Father requested that I invite her.”
Mother scoffed. “I doubt that.”
Didn’t Mother have better things to do than fret over Lia’s presence? “He’ll be joining any second. Please, ask him yourself.”
She gestured at his head. “And your circlet is crooked.”
His hair wouldn’t cooperate with it at the best of times, and he had put it on without looking just before leaving Father. Ken lifted the circlet, ran a hand through his hair, and set it back down.
Mother sighed and adjusted it herself. “Maybe, if you found yourself a bride, she could keep your appearance tidy.”
“Shall I find a woman who can stop the rain from falling as well?”
“Mind your tongue, Kennard. I can change your Father’s mind about your little Vistan being here tonight.”
It wasn’t an idle threat. With few exceptions, people were compelled to like Mother. In his natural human form, Father was easily influenced by her Allure. Decades of practice in forcing her Gift on him had enhanced her power as queen consort.
Ken nodded slowly. “Apologies, Mother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to return to demonstrating Meriverian unity.”
She furrowed her brow. “That’s what this is about? Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m telling you now.”
Mother scowled and waved him off.
He hastened back to Lia’s side. Holding out his elbow, he plastered on a smile. “Shall we?”
She took his arm again and followed his lead into the dining hall, faking a smile herself.
Like the rest of the Cedar Palace, the wood for which it was named lined the floor and ceiling of the dining hall, its pink and gold hues warming the room as much as the people did. Inlaid wooden panels depicted nature scenes across the walls. Long tables formed a giant square with a group of drummers, pipers, and flutists in the center. Guards stood at attention in the corners, and Valerzan was as easy to find as his sister, with his cropped strawberry blond hair that always looked as though he’d recently lost a battle with his comb. They couldn’t interact while Val was on duty, but Ken acknowledged him with a slight tip of his head.
“What’s wrong?” Lia asked quietly.
“What do you mean? This is a feast, I’m smiling, and—”
“Your attitude with the queen? That was brazen, even by your standards.”
He guided her to a chair a couple seats down from Lord Jibiam. “She treats me like a child.”
Lia raised an eyebrow. “How does acting like one help?”
Instead of pulling out the chair, Ken steered away from the table to the wall. “I guess I’m still on edge from something Father said.”
“It wasn’t about…?”
“No.” Their secret was safe. “I think he’s humoring me. He’s not truly teaching me how to rule.”
“Why?”
“He said, ‘If.’ It was about my rule, and it wasn’t ‘when’ but ‘if.’ I asked what he meant, he all but told me that he believes I’m going to die soon.”
Lia squeezed his arm. “He’s wrong. You and I, we are both going to live long and full lives.”
“I know, but it’s frustrating not being able to explain how I know.”
Based on every record they could find, Ken and Lia’s experience Healing each other was unprecedented. But telling anyone what they’d done would lead to questions of why, which would lead back to their other secret. Making himself look less frail to his parents wasn’t worth Lia’s neck—or her father’s.
Lia leaned closer and whispered, “Well, smile anyway, or I’ll have to tickle your ribs under the table.”
Ken laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”
“I’m taking you back to the table before you think of more ways to cause trouble.”
The beginning of the meal passed with nothing more than idle chatter, and Lord Jibiam paid no heed to Ken and Lia—or so Ken thought until the ambassador spoke up.
“Prince Kennard, how long have you had a taste for the exotic?”
The exotic? “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Your Excellency.”
“Your little pet. Where did you find her? I didn’t think many Vistans lived this far west.”
Ken nearly choked on his salmon, and judging by the coughing, Lia had done the same.
Lord Jibiam continued, “I was under the impression that they don’t visit this court. At least, they didn’t when my predecessor visited.”
Ken dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Under the table, Lia gripped his hand for a second. He would choose his next words carefully if he were smart.
“I apologize for any confusion, Lord Jibiam, but Miss DiOrto is not anyone’s pet. She is an old friend, and her family has lived and worked in this palace for the last decade.”
The ambassador waved his hand. “As you say, Your Highness, but you have such strange manners here. We don’t use these pretenses in Tehazy. A man of power like yourself? If you want the servants’ daughters, you simply take them.”
There was no pretense. Pretty as Lia was, Ken had never considered such a thing. He didn’t indulge in dalliances, and as far as he knew, she planned to remain celibate.
Lia set down her fork. “I think I’ve had my fill,” she said softly. Her face had taken on the same pink as their dinner. “Your Highness,” she said, loudly now, “doesn’t Her Majesty look lovely this evening?”
The deflection was obvious, but Ken didn’t have a better idea. “Absolutely! Even more than usual.” He leaned in to catch Conora’s attention a few seats down. “Sister, you’re an expert on the matter. What do you think of Mother’s dress?”
She shot him a quizzical look before gushing about the fabric and cut and some details which were lost on him.
Ken nudged closer to Lia and whispered, “If you wish to escape, consider yourself excused.”
A week later, Odelia entered Queen Melaine’s sitting room. With trembling fingers, she tucked a loose silken strand behind her ear, then curtsied. The queen’s presence always did that to her. There was something about being simultaneously hated by and drawn to someone that was unsettling.
“Have a seat, dear.” The queen waved a jeweled hand to the empty seat beside her at the fireside.
Odelia eased herself in the over-sized blue armchair. Since when did the queen ever call her “dear”?
“You’re a grown woman now, and I believe it is time that you and I have a little…discussion.” Queen Melaine said the word like it was a foreign concept.
Odelia took a deep breath and smiled. “What about, Your Majesty?” She didn’t need to feign ignorance. The queen’s request had been completely devoid of details.
“Over the last few years, you have spent a great deal of time with Crown Prince Kennard. This may have given you some errant ideas.”
Odelia clasped her hands together. “What errant ideas might these have been?”
“The two of you are more than old enough to entertain suitors. You will not expect him to be one of yours.”
“But I haven’t—”
“Don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen the doe-eyed looks you give him.” The queen settled deeper into her chair. “You’re young. I know how difficult strong feelings are to hide when you lack the experience.”
Odelia wasn’t a fool. She knew better than to expect anything more than companionship from Kennard, and there was no harm in the occasional daydream. But she resisted the urge to object again. Best to let the queen finish.
“I would like to help you with this trouble of yours.”
The queen had never offered to help her with anything before. There had to be a catch.
“My dear friend Grandilady Wilmarie of Eaund holds a smaller but lovely court that she will be returning to next week. I would like you to serve there and learn from her. Without the distraction of your feelings, perhaps you will be able to leverage your friendship with my son for a better suitor than you could attain on your own.”
Of course, she wanted to be rid of her. Odelia’s life was here in the Cedar Palace. Even without Kennard, all her friends and family were here. She swallowed hard and blinked. “What kind of service is she expecting from me?”
“What skills do you have?”
“My mother has taught me sewing, and Bertina and the court physicians have been helping me study ways to supplement my Healing Gift.”
The queen smiled. “You can sew up sick people or something. I’m sure Wilmarie will find a use for you.”
Or something. Odelia took a breath to collect herself before she responded with something snarkier. “Is there anything you need me to do to prepare?”
The queen stood up, motioning for Odelia to follow. “Study your lineage. A good ancestor could increase your standing.” She gingerly put a hand on Odelia’s shoulder and motioned to the knee length hem of her dress. “And perhaps you should invest in a few fashionable gowns.”