The furniture was simple but of high quality: a large bed with a silver-ornamented frame, a wardrobe made of expensive carbon black wood, a small desk with a matching chair, a dressing table, and one empty bookcase. She looked at the bare shelves knowing that she didn’t have anything to fill them with. Her brother had only allowed her to take clothes, claiming that her new role didn’t call for much else.
The only personal things she had managed to hide inside one of her dresses were her mother’s letters and a nacre comb her father had gifted her on her fifteenth birthday, a few days before his death. Both of these things were now displayed on her desk. She was relieved that Wryen hadn’t taken them but she knew it was only a matter of time before somebody would want to steal the last objects she cared for. She had to find a place to hide them.
One of the silver squares on top of the pillars of her bed could be unscrewed. The pillar was hollow and the space was big enough to fit the rolled-up letters and the small comb. She screwed the square back on and immediately felt relieved. Knowing her most cherished belongings were close to her would make it easier to find sleep.
Still, she was all alone now, with no one in her corner to fight for her. Even her strong-willed mother had been kept far away. Amira closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think of the last time she had seen her mother but she couldn’t stop herself from picturing it.
Wryen had taken her to the minuscule house, tucked between much bigger villas. Amira knew that her mother didn’t care about the size of the house or the lack of luxury it presented, she only cared about the distance between her house and the palace where Amira lived. That was the only complaint she had made when Wryen forced her to live there. Of course, Amira’s half-brother hadn’t listened. Amira’s mother had merely been the king’s mistress; once her lover was dead, she held no power.
When Amira had entered the house for what would be the last time, her mother’s face had lit up before she quickly hid her smile as Wryen entered the house. She had made tea for the three of them and Wryen had complained about the sour taste caused by the public water. Amira’s mother had offered to make him another one but he ignored her, focusing his attention on the pain he could read in his half-sister’s eyes.
Wryen had announced the upcoming wedding and immediately added that only royal members of the family would be invited. Amira’s mother’s face had remained blank. But before she had closed the door behind Wryen and Amira, she had grabbed her daughter’s hand and squeezed it so tight that Amira’s eyes started to water. She had seen tears flooding her mother’s cheeks. Silently, they had promised each other to keep in touch as much as possible. In the carriage, Amira had cried in front of Wryen. She had never felt smaller and she was sure he had never felt bigger.
Leaving that memory in the past, Amira decided to write a quick letter to her mother just to say she was okay. She wished Wryen would have allowed her to possess a runia back in Amryne. The spelled device let fae communicate with each other even when they were out of earshot. But Wryen swore they were just as cursed as the beings who spelled them. It was half true, she thought. Even if they had been blessed, he still wouldn’t have let her have it. Now it wouldn’t be of much use anyway, given the distance between the kingdom of Allamyst and the Turosian one. A letter would have to do.
Amira sighed and turned her gaze to the empty paper. She didn’t feel guilty about lying to her mother, as she knew that she would only feel more hopeless if she found out her daughter was still truly unhappy.
Her pen glided easily on the thick paper. Just a few simple words, nothing too detailed so that her mother wouldn’t be able to read between the lines. She would have to ask Nalani to send her letter.
As she thought of her, the maid opened the door behind her. “Good day, my lady.”
“Good morning, Nalani.”
“It is way past morning, princess. I brought you some late lunch. I figured you’d be hungry by now.”
She carried a metallic tray to Amira and put it on the desk next to her. Amira wrinkled her nose at the purple stew.
“It’s made with indioberries and deer meat,” explained Nalani.
Amira took a spoonful of the sauce. When the hot liquid touched her tongue, she realised how famished she was.
Nalani watched her eat with a satisfied smile. “I was afraid you were going to let yourself waste away. I noticed your tearful eyes yesterday.”
Most of the royals would have punished Nalani for speaking so freely, but Amira could sense the motherly concern in her voice. It almost made her feel like a little girl again, someone whose only worry was to make her parents proud. She wondered how her father would feel about her current situation. Most of the time, she avoided thinking about him too much. His death was painful, but the way he’d treated her mother was also difficult to forget.
Zain Rosston had never made his relationship with Amira’s mother official and she couldn’t help but suffer from the situation. She was still grateful to have been recognised by the king and raised at the palace, but she wished things would have been different for her mother, that she would have been treated with respect after her father’s death.
“What are you going to do with the rest of your afternoon, princess?” asked Nalani once Amira pushed her plate away.
“Well, I don’t know. What am I expected to do?”
“The king is usually very busy during the day. I don’t think you’ll be able to see him today.”
She sought out Nalani’s gaze with curiosity. “Is he having a meeting with his advisors?”
Nalani looked a bit lost. “It’s possible. Truthfully, I am not familiar with His Majesty’s schedule. I’m just the maid.”
“Of course, I’m sorry, Nalani.” She wondered if Wryen was with the king. It was the only explanation for why he hadn’t bothered her yet today. Or maybe he had already left?
“Oh, it’s all right, princess. I’m sure you’ll soon be informed of all your future duties.”
Amira hoped so. Now that she was away from her brother, she was planning to actually have an impact on her life—and even on Karwyn’s, despite their conversation yesterday. She just needed to prove to him that she could be useful. Her father had often remarked that she shared his wits.
The silver and turquoise bracelet Karwyn had gifted her was displayed on her desk. Staring at it, Amira wondered if a present could be the way to Karwyn’s heart. But what could she get him when she had no silver to her name? Ever since her father’s death, Wryen had taken control of her finances.
Faced with the issue of money, Amira turned to her maid. “Nalani, if you wanted to give someone a present but you had no silver, what would you get?”
Nalani pondered. “Well, it depends, who is this gift for? A friend?”
