1
I sprinted acrossthe beach. My heart pounded in my ears, rushing like the ocean waves that lapped at my ankles. Salt water coated my lips, and my wet hair clung to my cheeks, stinging the skin on my face, but I couldn’t slow down. I had to keep going. I had to hide.
A raised pier where boats would dock loomed ahead of me. It was empty now, all of the fishermen having set sail that morning. Birds squawked and took to the sky, startled and annoyed, when I charged under the dock to take cover in the shadows. It smelled like rotting wood and seaweed here, and I tried to quiet my breathing, but my lungs burned with the effort.
I crouched low, closed my eyes, and listened, but all I heard was the creak of the wooden pier, rocking with the ebb and flow of the ocean waves. I knew I didn’t have much time, but I had to catch my breath. I grounded myself, focusing on what was real, to calm down.
I am Maria Josephina Robertson-Rodriguez, Mahalina Jazreel, princess—no,queenof the Court of Sirena, ruler of Biringan.
It’d been only a few months since I was crowned, and it wasstill hard for me to get used to calling myself queen. Repeating who I was, what I was supposed to be, helped remind me that this wasn’t all some dream, that I wouldn’t suddenly wake up back in my bed in San Diego or have to go to school with all the other humans like everyone else. A nobody. I was a diwata, a spirit of the mountains and sea in the land of encantos, and the ruler of the hidden world. And I was hiding.
Heavy boots shifted in the sand behind me, and it made my stomach drop.
He was here.
I pressed my back against the pillar. The sound of boot steps grew closer, then paused, the wearer waiting or listening. Probably both.
I held my breath and my fingers shook, so I clenched my fist around the dagger at my side, a gift from my godfather, Don Elias. He had given it to me for this very purpose, and I was not going to fail. Not this time.
I leapt out from behind the pillar and cut down with my dagger.
But my opponent knew I was coming. He always knew when danger was near.
He raised his own dagger to meet mine, our blades singing off each other, then stepped back and had the gall to smile at me. Lucas Invierno, the most esteemed knight in all of Biringan City, the datu of Mount Makiling, and, oh—might I mention, my ex-boyfriend.
I swung at him, but Lucas was faster than me. He knocked away my dagger again, moving around me, fluid like smoke.
Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I moved to hit himagain. I was tired of losing. But Lucas had a lifetime of practice in the martial art of Arnis, whereas I was no better than a child swinging a stick. It was the only way I could learn to defend myself, as humiliating as it was. But it was all for a reason.
After the mambabarang attack before my coronation, Elias recommended I learn to better protect myself, both physically and magically. Being queen of Biringan, of all the encantos, I would be foolish not to think that other malicious forces might attack again, even if I had the protection of the entire Royal Guard. I couldn’t rely entirely on other people. Without my approval, though, Elias had hired the best knight in the kingdom to help me. Lucas had just started to work full-time at the palace, stepping into his father’s vacant role as head of security at the Court of Sirena. Of course, just my luck, the captain of the Royal Guard had to be the love of my life, soon to be married to someone else. But he was the best fit for the job.
I tried to summon my power, raising my hand toward Lucas, focusing on the magic coursing through my veins like Elias had taught me. I wanted to turn his dagger into something else—a snake, a twig, a palm frond, anything—but nothing happened. Lucas danced in, and I barely had time to catch his strike. It sent a shock wave through me; he was so strong. He was not holding back.
Lucas came at me with his left hand and disarmed me with one move. I tried to throw my shoulder into him, but he used my momentum and tripped me. I somersaulted, suddenly seeing the blue sky, and landed on my back in the shallow water.
Lucas straddled me in a winning finisher and spun the daggeraround, placing the dull handle against my neck, knowing better than to put a blade to his queen’s throat. Sunlight sparkled in the water droplets on his hair, making him look like he was made of diamonds.
“Got you,” Lucas said, a little breathless, with a hint of a smile. His words, smooth and low, had an air of flirtation to them. Like old times.
I bit down a retort. It was the first thing he’d said to me in months that wasn’t strictly professional or hardly more than a “Good strike,” “Go again,” or “Your Majesty.” Of all times to flirt, this was the least anticipated. And the least welcome. Did he know what he was doing? Or was it by accident? When it came to Lucas, it was difficult to tell. He was always so mysterious and knew exactly how to get a rise out of me, for better or for worse. I was not in the mood for his games, especially now.
He must have realized what he’d said too, because color rose in his cheeks, and the gold in his dark eyes glinted. After a heartbeat too long, he lifted the hilt of his blade from my neck and raised himself off me.
I stayed there in the shallow water, as if proving a point that I could get up anytime I wanted, but he extended a hand to help me. I ignored him and stood on my own. “Months of training, sparring with me every day, and all you can say is‘Got you’??” I asked, glaring at him.
He sheathed his dagger. Like me, he was dressed in twill pants and a loose shirt for sparring, and the tips of his pointed ears had turned the same shade of red as his clothes. Infuriatingly, he didn’t say anything again, falling back into silence.
I almost wished I hadn’t said anything. Exchanging a few strictly professional words was better than enduring this silent treatment.
Since the announcement of his engagement to my nemesis, Amador Oscura, Lucas had stopped talking to me. There had been no explanation, no conversation, not even so much as a goodbye.
No one tells you how much it sucks to find out that your boyfriend was planning on getting married to someone else the whole time you were together. Granted, we’d never officially called ourselves boyfriend-girlfriend because we were so busy with our respective duties—me being in the royal palace and him in the neighboring Court of Sigbin. But when I got a wedding invitation from Amador a month after my coronation, it was shocking, to say the least.
I almost hadn’t bought the engagement, not until I saw the announcement in the news crystals—basically magical iPads—and realized it was true. Their engagement photo had been picture-perfect. The two of them arm in arm, dressed to the nines in silks and matching gold headdresses. The whole kingdom would be in attendance.
I went through the five stages of grief after getting dumped: laughing at the absurdity of it all, fuming for being delusional enough to think Lucas wasn’t Amador’s lapdog, wondering if Lucas was under some sort of love spell, and crying in the bathtub…I was still working on the acceptance stage.
Lucas didn’t say anything more while I grabbed my wet ponytail and wrung it out, finding it covered in sand and seaweed. I knew Jinky, my lady-in-waiting, would have a fit about the state ofmy hair. All her hard work making it silky smooth and full, down the proverbial drain.
