by Sarah Olson
Books in the Asterian Trilogy
by Sarah Fay Olson
Sapphire
Book 1
“This story begins like a fairy tale set in a fantasy kingdom but quickly develops into an emotional journey. The elements of a great fantasy are there but are given a light touch while the author focuses on romance, true love and heartbreak. All of which the reader will be easily swept up in! The dynamics of Layla’s past are intricately written and give depth to both her character and the story. This adds a richness to her characterization that makes Layla extremely admirable, although at times her stubbornness can exasperate the reader.”
—Margaret Faria, InD’Tale Magazine
Serpent
Book 2
When scandal threatens to ruin her reputation, Aria leaves her life behind in search of an adventure…
Book 3
Coming Soon
Serpent
Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Fay Olson
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Editor: Jeremy Soldevilla
Cover design: Neil Noah
Printed in the United States of America
For Gabriel
Prologue
James
THE FIRST TIME I held Aria, I was amazed at how small and beautiful she was. A servant had told me that Layla had left the castle, and I was furious she had done so without my permission. I stormed down the hall toward her chambers to find Mrs. Fallon. She would know where Layla had gone.
Aria’s cries greeted me as I reached the thick wooden door, and I opened it to find Mrs. Fallon pacing the room with the wailing child.
She looked up at me and shook her head. "I apologize if Aria has disturbed you, General," she said.
"She didn’t," I replied, my anger receding for a moment. "I came up here to ask you where Layla is."
"I believe she went for a ride through Kings City with Charlotte. Did she not tell you?"
"No."
Mrs. Fallon rolled her eyes as she hoisted Aria up onto her shoulder and began to pat her back. "I thought she would."
"Does she ever do as she’s told?" I asked bitterly. Sometimes I swore Layla purposely worked my nerves. If I’d known the princess would be this complicated, I would’ve turned my duties over to someone else.
The child began to cry louder.
"I am never going to get her down for a nap. Can you hold her?" Mrs. Fallon asked.
"What?" Her question caught me off guard.
"It’s not that hard. I need to find her blanket." She held Aria out to me.
Aria’s face was red and streaked with tears. I had never held a child before and was uneasy at the thought.
"I don’t know," I said.
"She won’t bite," Mrs. Fallon insisted. "Just make sure you cradle her head like this." Mrs. Fallon demonstrated how to hold the child and then held her out to me. "There’s nothing to it."
Hesitantly, I reached out, took the wailing child and awkwardly cradled her in my arms.
Aria looked up at me through her watering eyes, her cries quieting to whimpers.
"I think she likes you," Mrs. Fallon said.
As I looked down at Aria, it was as if the world had come to a halt. She was so small and delicate—so innocent. She knew nothing of the world and the dangers around her. Nothing of the way her father abandoned her and the trials her mother would face. She simply lived, trusting those around her to care for her every need.
I sat on the bed in the center of the room as Mrs. Fallon returned with the blanket. "I can do it," I said, surprising myself. I was not ready to let her go.
Mrs. Fallon smiled and watched as I wrapped the blanket around Aria. "Have you ever held a baby before?" she asked.
"No," I said. "I’m not around children much."
She nodded. "Well, you’re doing a good job with her."
I did not look up, for I was so taken by the small life in my arms.
"I can put her in the crib now that she has stopped crying," Mrs. Fallon said. "That way you can get back to whatever you were doing."
I shook my head. "I can stay a little longer."
Mrs. Fallon smiled and went over to sit by the fire.
The minutes passed slowly as I held Aria. Her brown eyes began to close and soon she was asleep. She snuggled closer into my chest, and I smiled. It was the first moment in a while that I had felt such peace.
The door creaked, and I glanced up to find Layla in the doorway. She was wide-eyed, confusion etched across her face.
I hid my smile. "She wouldn’t stop crying. Mrs. Fallon was trying to get her to sleep and told me you’d gone out."
"She calmed down almost immediately," Mrs. Fallon added. "It seems like James has the magic touch."
I stood and handed the child to Layla. "I’m glad you are back safe. Do not leave the castle grounds without my permission again. At least until King Darius gets back."
She stared back dumbly as she took Aria.
When I realized she would not answer, I left the room quickly, closing the door behind me. But even as I left the hall, I knew that I would do anything to protect Aria.
Chapter 1
Aria
T HE RING GLINTED in the sunlight as I twisted it on my finger, watching the three sparkling diamonds, and I could not help but smile. This was the ring I would wear for the rest of my days—the ring that proved Thomas' love. Nothing could dampen the joy I felt each time I admired it.
I leaned against the railing of the balcony and looked down into the waves crashing onto the cliffs far below in a never-ending struggle. I could still smell the sweet scent of the flowers intermingling with the salty air as we strolled through the royal gardens. It was there where Thomas had lowered himself to one knee and asked me to be his wife.
"I love you, Aria," he had said. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Since he had been courting me for almost two years to the day, there was no real surprise in the proposal. Thomas was twenty-two—three years my senior—and the son of a wealthy lord in the Maplewood Forest province of Asteria. Even though his family was pressuring him to marry a royal, I quickly learned that Thomas' courtship had little to do with my status. He had fallen in love with me and couldn’t care less that I was a princess—not that he’d ever be king since I was not in line for the crown.
"Do you think you will marry him?" my younger sister Juliette asked when I had accepted him as a suitor. She was such a romantic—dreaming of falling in love and living happily ever after. It was amusing since she was only eleven at the time. When I told her that I didn’t know yet, her disappointment was evident.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like him at the time—I did—I just wanted to be careful. While my mother was more than supportive of our union, there was always an undertone of warning. She had been engaged once after only knowing the man for a couple of months, and things did not end well. She thought she was in love but was young and did not understand love’s meaning.
I sighed and squinted out into the setting sun. I was in love with Thomas, and while the two years of courting had been long, it was long enough to for me to think about what I wanted. Now I was to be married at the end of spring in an extravagant royal wedding. After the official announcement the following day, it would be the talk of the kingdom. Tonight was for the governors an
d lords to celebrate the engagement.
"Milady?"
I turned from the sea and found Lydia, my lady-in-waiting, standing in the open doorway of my chambers.
"I believe it is time for you to dress for the feast," she said with a smile.
Lydia was a middle-aged woman with rosy cheeks and light brown hair that she always kept up in a bun. She had dedicated her life to my family when my parents took power over the kingdom of Asteria.
"I believe it is," I said. "Have any guests arrived?"
"Yes," she replied, walking over to my wardrobe. "Some as early as an hour ago. The king and Lord Bateson have them entertained in the Great Hall."
"And Thomas?" I asked, watching her rummage through my gowns inside the generous closet.
"I’m not certain, Milady. I would assume he will be soon, though."
"Good," I said with a smile.
"What would you like to wear tonight?"
I sat down on my bed, the soft covers and mattress sinking beneath me. "I’m not certain."
"How about this one?" Lydia asked, freeing a dark burgundy gown from the multitude of dresses.
"No, that’s too dark for a spring feast."
"Of course, Milady. Forgive me."
"What about the champagne colored one I just had made?" I said. "I haven’t had a chance to wear it."
"Oh yes! That one is lovely!" She put the burgundy one back and pulled out the champagne one.
It was sleeveless with a crystal-encrusted bodice and a large, silk ruffled skirt. Lydia laid the gown on the bed as I stripped out of my clothes. She pulled out a cream-colored corset and petticoat and helped me change into them as the ones I was currently wearing would not do for such a gown. I savored the few moments in between the corsets, my chest, grateful for the reprieve.
"Here we go," Lydia said as she helped me step into the gown.
I turned and admired the gown in the three-way mirror as she busied herself lacing up the back.
"I think you should use a similar style for your wedding gown," Lydia said as she picked up my hairbrush from the intricately carved vanity. "It really brings out your figure."
"You mean my bosom?" I laughed, looking at the way the bodice pressed into my breasts.
"Milady!" Lydia exclaimed. "I meant no such thing. That is a modest neckline—especially if you compare it to the gowns your friend Catherine wears."
I rolled my eyes and laughed. It was true. My dear friend Catherine Montgomery had a thing for low necklines and extra tight corsets—men fawned over her for it.
Lydia brushed my blonde hair and pulled it up into a delicate bun. She powdered my face and painted my lips. When she finished and placed the diamond tiara on my head, I smiled at my reflection.
"Thank you, Lydia," I said as a knock sounded at the door.
Lydia smiled and went to open it.
"Is she ready?" I heard my mother ask.
"Yes, Your Grace," Lydia said.
She opened the door wider, and my mother stepped in, the gently ruffled skirt of her elegant lavender gown swishing through the doorway.
"My darling!" she exclaimed. "You look beautiful!"
"You don’t think it’s too much?" I asked as she hugged me.
"Of course not!" she exclaimed, her brilliant green eyes sparkling in the light from the glowing sapphire around her neck. "You look like a princess."
I smiled. "Do you know if Thomas has arrived yet?"
"He has," my mother said sweetly. "I told him to come up here in a few minutes to fetch you. Your father and I would like you two to enter together."
"Of course." I looked back in the mirror, once more making sure that I looked perfect.
"Are you nervous?" my mother asked.
"Not very," I said. "I’ll probably be more nervous the day before the wedding."
"I know how that is," she said, looking into the mirror and pushing a stubborn golden-brown hair back into place. "Thomas is a wonderful man."
"As you’ve said from the day I met him," I laughed. Thomas had charmed her from the beginning.
She rolled her eyes.
"But yes, he is wonderful," I agreed. "And I love him very much."
"Good. James keeps asking me if you really do love him. I don’t think he likes the idea of giving up his little girl."
"Father would keep me from growing up if he could," I said. "But I am happy and want to marry Thomas—I’ve told him many times."
"I know," my mother said. "But you know how he is."
"Milady," Lydia said. "Lord Thomas is here."
My mother turned from the mirror. "That is my cue. I will see you in the Great Hall." She walked over to the door, greeted Thomas and then disappeared down the hall.
"Thomas," I said as he strolled in, "you look dashing."
"Why, thank you, Milady," he said with a bow. He was as handsome as always with his combed, dark brown hair and fine doublet. His gray eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he took me in with them. "And may I say that you are absolutely stunning."
"Thank you," I said, a blush finding its way to my cheeks.
He stepped closer and gave me a gentle kiss; his lips sending a warm tingle down my spine. "Are you ready?" he whispered.
I nodded. "Nothing to it, right?"
Thomas offered me his arm. "Not at all."
I took his arm, and he led me out of the room and down to the Great Hall. The sound of the merrymaking guests reached my ears through the thick double doors. Guards hauled them open as we neared them, and a herald announced our arrival.
"Ladies and gentleman," he called out. "Princess Aria of Asteria and Lord Thomas Windsor of Maplewood Forest."
The guests—governors of the provinces, lords and ladies and close friends—stood around the tables laden with food. They bowed and curtsied as we walked past to sit by my parents.
My mother stood at the end of the room with my father, King James of Asteria, who smiled at me as Thomas and I approached. He was tall with brown hair and piercing, light blue eyes. Thomas once admitted to me that something about my father put him on edge (which had always been my father’s intent).
We faced the guests again as my father began to speak.
"Thank you all for being here today," he said. "Queen Layla and I have brought you here tonight for a special announcement—the engagement of our daughter, Princess Aria, to Lord Thomas Windsor. Two months from now, they will become husband and wife before you. Tonight is to celebrate their engagement, and the queen and I could not be happier."
The guests clapped for a few long moments, then quieted, eagerly awaiting the invitation to begin eating, no doubt.
My mother’s voice floated over me. "We now invite you to sit and enjoy this feast in honor of your princess’s engagement."
The guests sat quickly, excited conversation rising from them in seconds, as servants darted in between the tables with pitchers of wine.
"You look beautiful, Aria," my father said as Thomas and I rounded the head table.
"Thank you, Father," I said, kissing his cheek.
"Lord Thomas," my father said in greeting, giving my fiancé a slight but polite nod.
"Your Majesty," Thomas said with a bow. "Thank you for this wonderful feast."
My father nodded curtly. Over the past two years, I couldn’t help but feel that he did not like Thomas much.
"It is the proper way to celebrate your engagement," my mother said as I took the seat beside her.
Thomas smiled and sat next to me. "That it is."
"Aria!" a man’s voice exclaimed behind me. I turned to find Lord Davorin Bateson with his wife, Lady Charlotte Bateson.
"Davorin! Charlotte!" I exclaimed, rising from the chair to hug them.
"My, you are lovely," Davorin said, taking a step back and making a show of looking at me. He was my father’s closest friend.
I blushed. "Thank you. Where’s Mitchell?"
Davorin shrugged. He was tall like my father but with dark blond hair and fai
nt stubble on his cheeks and chin.
"Probably with Gabriel, causing mischief," Charlotte said.
"Let us hope it is nothing like last time," I said. "The guests were not amused when a squealing pig ran through the Great Hall."
Davorin and Thomas laughed.
"Yes, let us hope," my mother said, giving them a disapproving look.
My father just shook his head.
"Anyway," Charlotte said as Davorin began to speak with my father, "Congratulations, Lord Thomas. It seems you have been able to steal the princess’s heart."
Thomas laughed. "Thank you, Lady Bateson."
Charlotte smiled; her hazel eyes a stark contrast to her black hair that was currently up in a beautiful and intricate bun. "I am very happy for you both."
"Thank you," I said.
Charlotte turned away. "Davorin, can we sit and eat now?"
Davorin glanced over at her. "Yes, of course." Charlotte took his arm, casting another smile in my direction, and the two strolled away to their seats.
The night continued with food and congratulations. When we began on dessert, the doors opened, and Gabriel and Mitchell strode in.
"Any food left?" Gabriel asked when he reached our table.
My father glanced up at him. "What are you doing in here?"
"I was just hungry. Sorry, Father," Gabriel said. However, the sly smile on his face indicated he didn’t mean it. At fifteen, Gabriel was the spitting image of our father—same build, blue eyes and brown hair.
It was an Asterian tradition that both boys and girls were not to attend balls or feasts until they were sixteen—it was the reason Gabriel and Juliette had not been present. In my opinion, it was a silly tradition, but my parents were adamant we abide by it.
"Where were you, Mitchell?" I asked. He was seventeen now but somehow managed not to show up to many of the royal occasions he could attend.
Mitchell’s brown eyes met mine, and he smiled. "The food is better in the children’s room."
Gabriel laughed.
"I would assume that means Gabriel ate then," my father said, no amusement in his tone.
