"There won't be a next time," I said. "I'm never leading another expedition into those mountains."
The thought of making decisions that put other people at risk was intolerable.
Except, the Silver Princess was dying, and the only place where more specimens grew was on those wretched mountains. I knew that this wasn't over because I was incapable of giving up.
"Did you hear the latest gossip about the annual ball?" Gavon asked, changing the subject to something he was much more comfortable talking about. "The court of Catonia is supposedly going all-out this year, and the rumors claim that it will be the most lavish one in decades. They've commissioned the bestentertainers from all over the seventeen provinces, and the menu is designed by Chef Verdigio."
Even I knew who Chef Verdigio was, but I'd never eaten in his restaurant. The truth was that I hadn't visited Vedona much after graduation from the Royal University of Sciences, the annual balls being the exception, of course.
The balls were mandatory for all royals. I'd been attending them every year since I turned eighteen. They weren't fun, or even tolerable. It was like entering a pit of vipers dressed in my best finery, so I would look appetizing to them.
"You look like you are remembering eating something rotten. Do you hate those balls that much?"
I shrugged. "Would you enjoy sitting through five-hour dinners listening to old men and women congratulate each other on their brilliance?"
"I think I would." He lifted his lemonade and took a sip. "Regrettably, though, I'm not invited."
"I would swap places with you in a heartbeat."
He was about to respond when the garden door swept open, and my mother entered, shocking us both into silence.
She almost never graced my rooms unannounced.
"Your Majesty." Gavon reached for his crutches and tried to stand, probably to offer her a proper bow, but she waved him off.
"Don't get up on my account." She looked at me and grimaced. "Idrilia." She said my name the way she might say 'incurable.'
"Mother." I stood and dipped my head.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to keep a rare botanical specimen alive."
She looked at the glass enclosure with its sweating ice packs and the drooping Silver Princess inside and wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't appear to be working."
"I know. I'm trying to save her."
She gave my clothing a critical once-over, her eyes narrowing into slits and her lips narrowing. Queen Margada didn't need words to show her displeasure.
"The seamstress will be arriving tomorrow at first light to go over fabric selections and styles for your ball gown. I expect you in the fitting room at seven o'clock."
I tilted my head. "You came all the way out here to tell me that? Ursa could have relayed the message."
"Ursa relayed the message about last year's fitting, and you conveniently forgot and went hiking instead." She clasped her hands in front of her. "This year, I am informing you personally, so there can be no claim of miscommunication." She glanced at the enclosure again. "I accepted your obsession with plants as a harmless eccentricity, but it is becoming a concern."
"It's not an obsession. It's science. Botanical pharmacology is a highly respectable occupation, even for a princess."
"Two men died on your latest expedition."
I swallowed and did the only thing I could, which was to hang my head in shame. I was guilty, and I wasn't going to disrespect the loss of life with excuses.
"People die," my mother said in a gentler tone. "I know that you would have done everything to save them if you could. But this botanical obsession is the reason you are neglecting your responsibilities."
I brushed soil from my knees and faced my mother. We were nearly the same height, which meant I could meet her eyes without looking up.
"I'm not neglecting anything, Mother. It's the same ball that it is every year, and I've attended all of them. Does the fabric of my gown matter that much?"
"Every little detail matters, Idrilia." My mother looked down her nose at me despite us being the same height. "Every queen and king, and every prince and princess is judged ontheir appearance, the quality of their attire, the size of their jewels, their eloquence, their gracefulness. This is a competition masquerading as a social event. Tarina is a small province, and our only significance lies in the border we share with Elucia. We need every advantage we can get, and this year it is more crucial than ever."
