Page 15 of The Masked Princess

Soren offered Annalise his arm, and when she hesitated, he shook it impatiently and raised one eyebrow. “Surely after that you don’t expect me to let you walk back to your harp unescorted,” he said, a small smile playing around his lips.

Annalise laughed as she took his arm, confident in the combination of her gloves and his long sleeves. “I really shouldn’t be surprised. As I recall, you always were incorrigible and enjoyed taking risks.”

“Offering you my arm isn’t a risk.” He hesitated, as if he would say more, but shook his head and sipped from his drink.

Once he’d guided her to her seat next to her harp, Annalise excused herself and turned away to lift her mask and sip from her drink. When she turned back, Soren was watching her curiously.

“Why do you do that? Keep your mask on even when it’s a mealtime?” he asked.

She winced at the memory. “It’s not good luck to tell you right now, not tonight. If you ask me tomorrow, I can explain.”

A smile broke across his face, turning it into a warm ray of sunshine in a near-instant. “So you’re truly okay with me visiting you tomorrow?”

“Of course. Why would I not be? Are we not old friends?”

Soren opened and shut his mouth and then smiled as he took another sip of his drink. “We are, and yet you still surprise me.”

“Thank you for rescuing me from the ambassador. I have a feeling the conversation was about to get rather… uncomfortable,” Annalise said.

“You’re welcome. What else are old friends for?”

Annalise laughed. She didn’t know why she was laughing, and he certainly had said nothing funny, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about seeing the boy who had been her childhood playmate all grown up, and knowing that even after years apart he was still looking out for her made her heart flutter. A happiness that she hadn’t felt for a very long time bubbled in her chest.

Soren, Goddess bless him, laughed along with her. When they had both finally quieted, and he wiped tears from his eyes, he bowed to Annalise. “I believe it’s time to take my leave. I’m sure the people of your court miss your exquisite harp-playing skills, and I would hate to keep you from your duties any longer. It was good to see you, and I look forward to visiting more with you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 11

Princess Annalise fought back a yawn as she settled into the ornate chair reserved for the crown heir. She’d been up much later than expected the night before, playing with the other musicians until the last of the revelers finally retired to their rooms or fell asleep where they sat. In some ways, it felt like it was the last night of freedom she’d ever have. Today, either her father acknowledged the terms of her betrothal to the Rhinnean king, at which point she would begin wedding and travel preparations, or he denied their request and Dovea would prepare for war.

As she waited for the king to make his entrance, she searched the room until her eyes fell on Soren, who was standing at the side and toward the front. His russet coat, white shirt, and black pants were rather dashing, and when they made eye contact, he graced her with a dazzling smile.

The door to the king’s private offices opened, and King Everet stalked to his throne. He was dressed in a navy coat, light blue shirt, and tan pants with a heavy silver chain around his neck, several silver rings on his fingers, and the monstrosity that was his silver crown perched atop his head. If Soren was the embodiment of a successful autumn harvest, King Everet was cold winter.

“Bring me the Rhinnean delegation.” His voice resounded through the room like a clap of thunder, and the entire court quieted.

When the Rhinneans were ushered forward, the king stared at them with red-rimmed eyes and tapped his fingers together. The silence stretched uncomfortably long.

“My advisers have examined the betrothal document and judged it valid. In addition, after much discussion and refreshing of memories, we recall the time when the agreement was made. I will honor the treaty. Crown Princess Annalise will begin preparations for travel and will depart in one month with your delegation to Rhinnea. I trust that this is suitable for you?”

The Rhinnean ambassador, Selveg, stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty is as wise as he is just. If I may make one suggestion, the road to Rea, our capital city, goes over a pass that is not accessible once the full winter snows have come. I fear that if she waits until after the winter solstice, Her Royal Highness risks not being able to make the journey until the snow thaws in the spring. This would portend an ill omen and delay the marriage ceremony until the summer solstice. With as tentative as the peace is between my kingdom and yours, I humbly plead that she leave no later than one week from today.”

“One week? That is not nearly enough time for my people to say goodbye to their princess, or for her to make preparations to leave as befits her station. You are already taking my only daughter away from me, and if I didn’t love my subjects as if they were my own children, I would rip up this betrothal scroll right now…” King Everet paused, and his face softened. “But I do love my people, as does the princess, and she will not allow any harm to come to them on her behalf. The betrothal will stand, and she will leave in two weeks to your blasted kingdom, not one minute sooner. If the pass freezes over and is impassable, then it is the will of the Moon Goddess, and we will weather the consequences by her grace.”

King Everet threw the scroll on the ground in front of the Rhinneans. The ambassador bowed deeply, picked it up, and returned to his delegation. They were then escorted to the back of the room, where they stood surrounded by guards.

King Everet wet his lips and sipped from his cup of wine before setting it to the side.

“Lord Soren Kierson, step forward.”

Annalise’s eyes immediately found Soren’s form. His walk as he navigated through the crowd of nobles was elegant yet powerful, and she could picture him strolling across the deck of a rolling ship as easily as if it were solid ground.

Soren bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty, how may I assist you?”

“Soren Kierson, your arrival yesterday was most timely; truly, it must have been engineered by the hands of the Goddess herself. You are familiar with my daughter, correct? I seem to remember you two being quite fond of each other as playmates when you were children.”

“I am,” Soren said, keeping his eyes on the king.

“Then you shall be her knight and protector on her journey to Rhinnea. It is your duty to ensure that she arrives safely with her dowry to be wed to their new king.”