I don’t need his warning. I know my role. I know what propriety—and the crown—demand of me.
Shortly after I received my gift, my mother tried to hide its power. At first, I thought the love men felt for me was true, and I brought them to my bed, seeking a balm for the heartache I’d suffered only a year before. But I learned quickly that what I sought and what I received were two very different things. Worse still, the men I trusted were all too eager to boast of our encounters.
The few attachments I did form ended abruptly when I realized their affection was only a hunger to be filled by my gift. My mother quietly named it the gift of love amongst the court, but as I grew older, I understood that love wasn’t what I’d experienced. To call it love was an insult to what I once felt long ago. Yet calling it anything else was deemed improper. So the rumors spread, and in time I closed myself off to all advances, all physical contact with others.
I began wearing gloves every day, a common precaution in a court rife with erratic magic that can spread through touch. I refused most men’s advances, but the rumors of my impropriety had already taken root. My mother did her best to contain the worst of the gossip, but it was too late. She feared for my marriage prospects—and rightly so. With a tarnished reputation and a gift that drives men to obsession, I was already a lost cause.
My father speaks up, a rare thing for him to do at a council meeting. “Penelope, dear,” he begins. He’s the only one who ever addresses my mother so informally in public. “Princess Genevieve has grown over the years. She’s learned to control her gift and has kept any scandal atbay for years. If this is what she wants, she knows how her gift will affect her marriage, and you should accept her decision.”
My mother gives a minuscule nod before replying, “Very well. Keep Prince Leland at arm’s reach until the wedding ceremony. I do not want him exposed to your gift until the arrangement is settled. There is also the matter of Mr. Morris Blackwell to discuss.”
Lord Fenweir clears his throat again, the sound grating my nerves. “Yes, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, Mr. Blackwell will be arriving tomorrow. We attempted to delay his visit until next month, but he indicated that if we do not host him in the coming month, he will bring the discussion of his intercontinental railway line to Wylan.”
My mother’s lips quirk as she delicately passes her teacup to a lady in waiting. “The railway is already in place through much of Icelantica. If Mr. Blackwell has already formed an agreeable contract with Queen Kalise, I see no reason to delay his visit. If anything, Prince Leland and Queen Kalise may help us secure the line through Naseria.”
I’ve heard discussions of the mysterious railway magnate, but I assumed he would visit while Prince Leland and I took our honeymoon. It’s a relief to hear that his arrival will occur while I’m still at Fairbright Palace. I’m eager to be involved in the decisions regarding where the railway will be placed, and fascinated by his ingenious use of helachite. I know it must follow the naturally formed lines, bonding raw helachite with his processing techniques to power the machines. Like Naseria, Icelantica is rich in helachite, and Mr. Blackwell has had smashing success developing a new transportation system throughout the bitterly cold country.
But I also want to better understand this man—a man of unknown redblood origins who now possesses more wealth than anyone else on the continent. The famed self-made magnate is responsible for creating Blackwell Industries, the most expansive mining and industrialfirm in Inver. He’s strategically based in southern Icelantica, where he has access to the three largest countries on the continent. He holds mining rights in all three and commands the most extensive stockpile of helachite in existence. That rare mineral—once the cause of wars, the source of blueblood lineage and gifts—is now controlled by a redblood. How very ironic.
The discussion around his schedule dies down, and finally my mother stands to dismiss the meeting. Her dark eyes meet mine, and I know I’m expected to wait and speak with her privately. Gabe catches my gaze and immediately knows I’m being summoned. We’re both far too familiar with our mother’s expressions. He smirks before rising and moving toward the door, clearly making his escape before he’s drawn into an unwanted conversation.
Once the room is cleared of all but a few servants, I approach Queen Penelope. “Mother,” I say, curtsying before she gestures for me to sit in my father’s vacant seat.
“Darling,” she begins, and I do all I can to appear the adoring daughter I once was. “I don’t want you concerned about negotiations with Mr. Blackwell. Your duty is to secure this marriage. Prince Leland still has the right to change his mind until the contract is signed. Let me handle the railroad agreement, and you focus on forming an attachment to the prince.”
I shake my head. “I have a right to be involved in these discussions. By the time the railroad project is completed, I’ll be the one on the throne, not you, Mother. Further, Prince Leland and I have decided to sign our marriage contract as soon as possible.”
Her lips tighten before her face softens. “Genny, dear, my most earnest wish is to see you succeed as queen. But your wedding is far too important for you to be distracted by business matters.”
I unclench my hands, willing them to relax. Is this how she’ll always treat me? Like a child? At twenty-eight, I’m only two years away from my coronation and her abdication. And yet, she still acts as if there’s all the time in the world before the transfer of power.
“Mother, I insist on being in those meetings.”
She exhales sharply, trying to mask her exasperation. “If you insist, my dear. But you must understand—Mr. Blackwell is not a gently bred blueblood. He’s known for his crass behavior and harsh temperament.”
“All the better to learn how to negotiate with redbloods now, before the crown is on my head.”
Mother scowls, creases forming between her brows. “The man has been a thorn in my side since he purchased the mines to the north. Always sending complaints about the conditions. Well, if he wasn’t happy with the conditions, he shouldn’t have purchased them!”
I think of Gabe’s warning.She’s hiding things from me.I don’t know why, but she clearly doesn’t want me involved with the helachite rot. “Is there corruption from tainted helachite in the mines? I want to know what’s happening with the spreading rot.”
Her lips draw into a thin line. “There’s been little progress, as I already told you. It seems contained for now. As for the mines—of course the helachite is corrupted. It’s a volatile mineral.”
“Please, Mother, be truthful. I need to be prepared before I take the crown. Don’t hide crucial information from me.” My voice rises in frustration as I blurt out, “I won’t have it!”
I’ve crossed a line, but I don’t care. Not when the future of this kingdom depends on my readiness to rule. Her stare is so sharp it takes everything in me not to look away.
“Youwon’t have it?” she repeats, her voice low and dangerous. “Don’t forget, Genevieve—youare not queen yet. Remember whowears the crown. I will decide how much you need to know to govern in two years. For now, secure your husband.”
With that, she stands and sweeps from the room, her elegant skirts whispering across the marble floor.
3
Genevieve
The air is sweetly scented with cherry blossoms and hyacinth blooms. The soft blue sky, shrouded by downy white clouds, settles my nerves as I stand awaiting Prince Leland’s quickly approaching carriage. My future husband is in that carriage, and the very thought sends a current of apprehension down my spine.
Does he understand what it will mean to be my king consort? Will he be able to bear my gift long enough to make an heir?
