But in the old days, emerald was the power stone. The ignitor of all things magical.
I doubt the old ways have anything to do with these new days.”
I hugged the grimoire against my chest and wished I could ask her these questions and more. Was this a mystery worth solving? Or should I let the dead remain dead?
One thing was for certain, I needed someone who could read pagan.
ChapterSeven
“Have they decided the date of your coronation yet?” the prince of Aramore asked as he twirled me around the dance floor. His name was Landrick Garstone, and he was the second son of King Henrik and Queen Lillibeth.
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was waiting for me to arrive at the final ball of Tyrn’s weeklong celebration. He seemed to appear out of nowhere as soon as the herald announced my arrival. And before I could even look around the room for Taelon, he’d taken my hand and asked for a dance.
Tyrn had answered for me, waving me away with an expression that reminded me not to mess this up.
“They have not,” I replied with a bland smile. “We have been quite busy actually, acclimating to this new... arrangement. My sister had only just arrived. And I am not yet eighteen.” Although I would be very soon. “My uncle is a pragmatic man. When I’m ready, he will decide the date.”
“But even then, you will not be queen?” Landrick asked, his brow furrowing as if all these minute details were difficult for him to keep track of.
I tried my best to disguise my heavy sigh. “No, not even then. The coronation is more like a promise of future queendom. Or perhaps a seal of future power is more accurate. I will continue my education until my twenty-first birthday. At that time, I will step into power. Onto the throne, etcetera.”
“Etcetera,” he murmured, pleased with my answer. “Unless something happens to your uncle.”
His words were ice in my veins. I did not especially enjoy Tyrn or his handling of... well, any of this. But he was my uncle. And he had held the Seat of Power for me, however unconsciously, all this time. Besides, even I could admit I was not ready to be queen. I liked that I had succeeded in securing my future. And I was proud that the Crown of Nine would remain in the Allisand bloodline. But I was not a fool. I had no royal or courtly training. I did not know how to command Shiksa successfully, let alone an entire army.
There was much to learn. And experience. But my time would come. Eventually. I just hoped it would be before the Ring of Shadows burned everything beyond the Marble Wall to ash. Or one of my many assassins made it beyond the castle drawbridge.
Landrick’s confident smile wobbled for only a second before he asked, “And it is true that the council would like you married before you take the throne?”
It took all my self-control not to rip my hand out of his and run out of the ballroom screaming in horror. But Father Garius’s fear control training served me well in almost every circumstance I had encountered so far.
Fear is not the enemy. The ancient Heprin Scrolls promised. Your reaction to fear is your adversary. Face it or run from it. Conquer it or allow it to conquer you.
“That is their wish,” I told him, ducking my head and feigning a demure smile while bile rose in the back of my throat. It was not that I hated the idea of marriage. More like, I had seen through this smarmy second prince the moment he touched my hand and would never chain myself to someone so utterly full of himself.
The throne was a prize to him. A mountain to climb. A stag to hunt. I was the trophy he would mount on his wall and brag about to his friends.
He pulled me closer against his body, but because of the fullness of my gown, only our torsos touched. The cold, harsh buttons and meaningless military medals dug into the exposed skin of my shoulders and chest.
“And what do you want, Your Highness?” he asked in a voice I was sure he meant to be seductive.
Another glass of wine.But I couldn’t say that and avoid a lecture from my uncle. So instead, I smiled brightly and said, “Whatever is best for the realm.”
It wasn’t a lie. But it also was most certainly not this spoiled royal. I glanced across the dance floor and briefly caught Taelon’s eyes. He was dancing with a Kashan princess who was too beautiful for her own good. The dragon I liked to pretend lived inside me lashed out its long, spikey tail with a whip of jealous fury.
But then I had to smile. I remembered a conversation from long ago about Kasha princesses. And Taelon’s sweet reply. Did he still think I was prettier than any foreign princess? Did it even matter?
My smile turned into another sigh, and I ducked my head to keep this Aramore prince from believing I was mad.
The orchestra finished their waltz in a crescendo of beautiful strings and timpani. I was finally given social permission to step out of Landrick’s arms.
“Thank you for the dance,” I said with all the poise and grace I could muster.
“You’ll save another one for me?” he asked before I could sprint away. “Dancing with you has been my greatest honor. I am so looking forward to doing it again.”
“I—”
“If there’s time,” Taelon answered for me. He stepped to my side and smiled down at me. “She’s already promised me quite a few.” He turned back to Landrick and said, “You know how dancing is the princess’s favorite activity. It has made her very selective of her partners.”
