Page 16 of The Masked Princess

Soren started to bow again but paused when the king continued. “And because the blood of her snake mother runs through her veins, polluting her with its curse, your job is also to ensure that no one touches her until she marries the Rhinnean king.” The king leaned forward in his seat, his brow furrowed and a cruel gleam in his eyes. “I won’t have her causing trouble on the road, or a diplomatic incident when she gets to their capital. Once she marries him, she’ll be their problem. You understand me, boy? If at any point Annalise attempts to either escape or attack anyone, this crown will consider her a traitor, and you are to kill her.”

Soren remained frozen in his half-bow. From her seat, Annalise thought she saw his jaw clench, but then it was gone and she told herself it was a trick of the light. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” King Everet leaned back, one hand tracing the rings on the other. “You were formerly a captain on the sea, and now you shall also be one on land. Henceforth, I elevate you to the rank of captain in our Royal Guard. Until Princess Annalise stands before the marriage altar, you will be her stalwart companion, head of her security, and you will guard her with your own life.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not let you down.” Soren bowed deeply, first to King Everet, then to Annalise, before returning to his position next to his father seated in the first row of the court.

Annalise’s head swam as her father motioned for the other supplicants to come forward. Fortunately, she was not required to do anything beyond listen and remain awake. When her mother was alive, the queen had frequent petitioners, but she’d paid for it with bruises behind closed doors. After Queen Elvira’s death, several concubines had attempted to start a trend with shorter sleeves, but invariably anyone who spent personal time with King Everet realized that Queen Elvira’s sleeves were more practical than a mere fashion statement.

Thanks to Annalise’s curse, her father kept his distance from her.

The morning turned into early afternoon, but King Everet showed no sign of stopping for lunch. At one point, the head butler set out a table of food for the king and brought Annalise a plate of cut meats, cheeses, and fruit that she could easily slip under her mask. Finally, as the sun began its descent, King Everet stood. “We will break today and reconvene tomorrow. Larken, you may attend me.”

Larken, who’d sat the entire day in the front row fanned by several ladies looking to curry favor, ascended the steps with one hand on her belly. Her light blue gown showed off the whiteness of her skin and the pearls woven into her hair. Without so much as a glance at Annalise, she placed her hand on King Everet’s arm and followed him to his private chambers.

As was her habit, Annalise waited until the door closed behind the king, then stood and exited through the opposite one. When she was sure no one could see her, she lifted her skirts and hurried directly to her chambers on the opposite side of the castle.

“Your Highness, I heard the awful news. Do you need anything? Smelling salts? A warm compress? A cup of tea?” Priscilla asked the moment Annalise entered her room.

The space was decorated in the colors of Dovea itself: silver for the sheep that gave them their clothing and their wealth, and the soft blue of the sky. Dovea was a kingdom of shepherds and crafters, and most of her things were Dovean-made even if the raw materials were sourced from other kingdoms. The dark wood of her furniture was from Yblis, the kingdom of the forests to the east, and woven baskets that contained her weaving yarn hailed from Vintreal, the fishing kingdom to the south. Soft, light green curtains stitched with silver thread fluttered in the autumn wind, leaving the air in the room fresh with just a hint of chill.

Annalise’s spacious chambers were certainly meant for a crown prince. Though she’d spent her life within their confines, there were still times when she felt as though the murals painted on the walls and ceilings—animals, hunters, and maidens gathering flowers—were looking down on her in distaste and disappointment. There was no crown prince. Dovea had only her, a crown princess with a deadly curse who couldn’t even touch her people.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you, Priscilla. You should probably make extra—I believe Captain Kierson will pay us a visit soon.”

“This is the young man you were telling me about yesterday? Your friend who recently returned?”

Annalise nodded and undid the ribbons of her mask, setting it on the side table where it belonged when not in use. Safely ensconced in her room and away from the prying eyes of the public, she allowed herself a moment to breathe as Priscilla prepared the tea.

She sat at the small table next to the window so that she could overlook the garden and take comfort in its late autumnal beauty.

Priscilla had just poured a cup of steaming tea when there came a knock at the door. With a nod from Annalise, the maid went to see who it was.

Annalise took one sip of tea before setting the cup down, noting that her hands shook slightly just before the bottom of the cup met the saucer.

Priscilla spoke to the person at the door, but kept it mostly closed out of respect for Annalise’s privacy. The deep voice that replied both set Annalise’s mind at ease and made her heart race.

Priscilla closed the door and looked at Annalise. “Your Highness, it’s Captain Kierson. Do you wish to receive him now, or should he come back later once you’ve properly rested?”

Annalise blew carefully on her cup and took another sip to fortify herself. “You may let him in.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Annalise kept her eyes forward as the heavy wooden door scraped on the floor.

“Shall I retrieve your mask, Your Highness?” Priscilla asked as she shut the door behind Soren.

Indecision froze Annalise, and her lack of action sealed her fate.

“Please, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer it stay where it is,” Soren said. There was an odd softness to his tone that gave Annalise the courage to turn and look at him. It had been years since he’d last seen her face, and while she would never be so falsely modest as to think she was plain, a small part of her wondered how she stacked up against the flowers of the court like Lady Evelina.

Soren froze mid-step. His eyes widened, and his lips parted.

They stared at each other for nearly a minute as his gaze flicked back and forth over her face. Finally, just as Annalise wondered if she should say something, he swallowed and looked away.

“I’m sorry if I am not what you were expecting,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I was just taking some tea. You can join me if you’d like, or I can finish this cup and put the mask back on before we catch up.”

“No, please, that’s not necessary. I would love a cup of tea,” he said as he crossed the room, his footsteps surprisingly heavy for a man who moved as gracefully as he did.