His brother’s throat bobbed. Once. Twice. The pained look still heavy on his face. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced with a jovial grin. Larylis slapped Teryn on the back. “Yes, brother, she smiled. It seems you stand a chance with the Thorn Princess after all.”
Teryn snorted at the nickname. Thorn Princess. A woman known for her prickly demeanor and even pricklier heart.
A woman who would—hopefully—soon become his bride.
4
Princess Mareleau Harvallis thought her face would crack from the effort it took not to guffaw at the ridiculous spectacle she’d just forced herself to endure. Nine poems she’d pretended to tolerate from nine princes she’d wanted only to sneer at. Thankfully, she could rely on what she liked to think of as hermagic trick. It was a way to present a carefully curated outer composure no matter how she stewed inside. Only once did it crack, and that was when Prince Teryn, her fiancé, read his awful poem. She’d wanted to glower at him but instead, she’d grinned, knowing she’d soon be free of their engagement. She’d been trying for years to sever it, but this time she was finally close to getting her way.
With the poems read, it was now time to choose her three champions for the Heart’s Hunt. Mareleau and her parents left the balcony and strode into the foyer. The low heels of her silk shoes clacked against the white marble floors as she made her way to the tea table and took a seat across from her mother. Their wide skirts fanned out around the table in an array of silk, fur, and lace. Her corset kept her back straight as she leaned forward and took up a freshly poured cup of tea. Her father, meanwhile, took a seat in his favorite wingback chair, a glass of brandy quickly placed in his hand by a servant.
“I’ll choose first,” King Verdian said, then took a hearty sip of his drink.
Mareleau brought her teacup to her lips to stop herself from releasing an irritated groan. Unfortunately, Mareleau’s parents had insisted they choose two of the three champions. She already knew who her father would pick before the words left his mouth.
“Prince Teryn.”
“Of course you choose him,” she said, setting her cup back down. “Even though you know I don’t want to marry him.”
“You’re already engaged to the man,” he said, tone barbed. “You have been for three years despite your every attempt to get out of the arrangement.”
She planted a pleasant smile over her lips. “Don’t forget to mentionyourevery attempt to try and sell me to the next highest bidder.”
“And yours to undermine my decisions.” He burned her with a sharp look. Despite his powdered wig and elegant white-and-gold silk coat, King Verdian was anything but the pretty monarch he appeared to be. He was fierce. Cold. Calculating.
Probably where Mareleau inherited the same traits herself.
Her father shook his head. “Your marriage to Prince Teryn will give us access to their trade with Brushwold. Additionally, once you inherit my throne, Selay and Menah can merge as one kingdom. Even though this marriage sets you up as the future queen of what could become the greatest seat of power in southern Risa, I’ve tried to find you an alternate match. All to stop your incessant whining about how much you despise Teryn Alante. So don’t act like I’ve done anything but the best for you. You’re too spoiled, Mareleau.”
“Spoiled.” She scoffed. “Is it spoiled to not want to marry a man from a kingdom that was recently embroiled in a divorce scandal?”
Her father took another drink, unfazed. “You fought me on this engagement long before that came to light.”
She opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. He was right. She’d wanted out of her engagement to Teryn the moment she’d learned of it. Not that Teryn had done anything to deserve her scorn. His only crime was not being his half brother, Larylis.
The same was true for Larylis, she supposed. He too suffered from not being his brother. Had he been a prince and not the illegitimate progeny of the king and his mistress, he’d have been an acceptable match for a princess. She would have loved him regardless, of course. She couldn’t have cared less about his unfavorable parentage and could even forgive his kingdom’s scandal. What mattered was that Larylis was a liar. When it came to acting on pretty words, he’d failed her. Abandoned her. Broke her heart until there was nothing left but brambles and thorns in her hollow cavity of a chest.
Were she a crueler woman, she’d marry Teryn out of spite, if only for the chance at wounding her former paramour. Then again, perhaps he didn’t care. She’d seen Larylis in the audience today. While she couldn’t handle meeting his eyes for fear of shattering her composure, she’d stolen a few covert glances. She’d seen him smiling with Teryn, laughing, encouraging. As if watching his brother marry the woman he’d once professed to love was nothing.
Nothing.
“Come now, my darlings,” her mother said from the other side of the tea table. “Let’s not talk of scandals.”
“Then speak some sense into her, Helena.” Verdian stood from the divan and threw back the rest of his drink. “She doesn't know what's for her own good. She doesn't want to marry Teryn. She doesn't want to marry King Dimetreus. She doesn’t want to marry Prince Augustine. She doesn’t want to marry Prince Frederick.”
Fire burned through her blood at the mention of those names. She stood from her seat, her skirts bumping the table and sending the teacups rattling. “Oh, don't get me started on them! King Dimetreus is a widower—”
“Of six years,” her father interjected.
“—who lives in a creepy kingdom where everyone dies. Prince Augustine was twice my age and had his hand up my skirtwithin minutes of our first meeting alone.” She said the last part through her teeth.
Verdian at least had the decency to blanch at that, but he quickly steeled his shock behind a stony mask. “And what of Prince Frederick?”
Mareleau took a few steadying breaths, knowing it was time to utilize hermagic trickagain. She forced her lips into a trembling frown, let her shoulders droop. Her voice came out small and quavering as she brought her hands to her chest. “You know he broke my heart, Papa.”
Prince Frederick was the most recent royal her parents had paraded her before. After she’d caught him dallying with her former lady’s maid, she’d bullied him into ending their engagement. It served to garner pity from her parents when she pretended to be hurt by his abrupt end to their courtship and softened their ire enough to put her current plan into motion.
Beltane. The Heart’s Hunt.
