My eyes widen in shock.
She hurriedly adds, “Relax. Nobody is expecting you to step on the throne and start doing tricks.”
“Thank the Mother,” I mutter.
A comfortable silence lapses between us as we eat. With it, my thoughts race. None of this feels real. I can’t help but feel like I’m watching myself from above as I eat lunch, Elle seated across from me, her vibrant red hair illuminated by the sun.
Just yesterday, I was reading about the High Family’s deaths, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m the only member of the High Family left. Now, I feel like I’m watching someone else live through this gargantuan, life-changing day. Like it’s not me that has to leave behind the life she built for herself to rule a kingdom and get married to a stranger.
“How are you feeling about everything else?” Elle interrupts my thoughts.
I take a deep breath and admit, “Even though I just learned I’m about to rule an entire kingdom, I think I’m most nervous about having to get married in a few months.”
“I can’t even imagine. I’ve only met some of the princes. I know they’re all very handsome, though,” she says with a wink before ripping off a huge chunk of bread from the loaf with her teeth.
I offer her the dagger back, but she shakes her head as she chews.
Maybe Elle would be a better fit to be the female they’re all fighting for. Although I’ve been called pretty, Elle is infinitely more so. Where I lack color, she shines. Her red hair is a stunning contrast to my white. Her sharp collarbones only accentuate her delicate long neck, a hallmark feature of deer hybrids. Although she’s lean, muscle lines her frame, whereas I’m just lean. Skinny, even.
Our eyes are the same color: warm amber. But again, her smattering of dark freckles across her cheeks is a stark contrast to the white freckles that line mine.
“Who’s the most handsome High Prince?” I ask, copying her and using my teeth to rip another piece of bread off. I must admit, it is more time-efficient than a knife.
“Prince Asmo, for sure. He’s one of the two princes from the Serpent House. But he’s got kind of a mean reputation. His brother, Marik, is sweet and almost as handsome. Honestly, I’m not sure if there’s anyone as beautiful as Asmo now that I think about it. I can’t wait for you to meet them at your coronation dinner,” she says with a wicked grin.
The idea of the coronation dinner and being surrounded by the princes only makes my stomach churn.
“Where do you live?” I ask her, changing the subject.
“On the grounds,” she says, thankfully without acknowledging the shift in conversation. “The Herd meets every morning to discuss matters of the court, so it makes it easier.”
“That makes sense. I guess this will be my home for the near future.”
She gives me a closed-lip smile, the apples of her cheeks appearing. “I can show you your wing if you’d like,” she offers.
I nod eagerly. “I’d love that. Ivan mentioned that my father lived off the grounds. How does that work?”
“Yes, the High Family lived in a private estate, but they used portal magic and funneling to travel to and from their house safely and quickly. If that’s the route you’d like to go, Ivan will make it happen. Just let him know, and he’ll arrange the purchase.” She stands and looks in the direction of the castle. “Shall we?”
I nod eagerly and help her gather the uneaten food. We toss it into the basket and start walking toward the castle.
When we get back to the front doors, Elle smiles and nods at the two guards in front of the staircases. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m just giving your new High Princess a tour if you don’t mind.”
They both bow before stepping aside to let us pass.
Elle heads up the stairs. “Right this way, Your Highness.” I smile and follow her. “The entire second floor is closed off to anyone who’s not residing within the castle. The princes won’t be staying in the castle. There’s another house on the grounds that is used as guest quarters. It has six bedrooms and is used for other Houses when they visit. This floor is primarily reserved for the Herd, healers, and the royal family. The second floor has two separate wings. One wing is for you, and the other wing is for everyone else.”
When we get to the top of the stairs, there’s a hallway to the right lined with wooden doors. On the left, there’s a set of large wooden French doors. I point to them and ask, “What’s in there?”
“That’s the entrance to your wing. The hallway to the right is the secondary wing,” she says.
I nod toward the double doors and say, “I guess I should see where I’ll be staying for the foreseeable future.”
“Go right ahead. It’s spelled to only let you in. All you need to do is place your palm flat on the door, and the magic will recognize your print,” she says.
“That happened when I first opened the door to the castle when Ivan and I arrived earlier,” I said.
She nods in understanding before saying, “The magic recognizes you then. When it’s locked, the front door only opens for members of the court or direct descendants of the ruling High Queen’s or King’s bloodline.”
