Queen Sariyah was devastated that the king hadn’t been found. As she listened to all that had happened, she grew quiet, pensive even. When Ros finished her tale, the queen straightened her hands across her dress and swallowed hard. “We can send another party to search for your father, but as tomorrow is the seventh day, we cannot delay having you choose your husband. The ceremony will commence on schedule.”
“Mother, there is more going on here—”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why we must proceed with caution. You will become the new ruler, my love, and we need to make sure that happens before the other shoe drops.”
“Then you see it, too. These things are all connected.”
“I see it, but I don’t know who is behind it.”
“I’d wager it’s someone from Air.”
Sariyah shrugged. “Maybe. Hessian Barclay has never hidden his desire for the throne. But just because he’s the obvious choice doesn’t mean he’s the only one. We need to be careful.”
Ros nodded. “I’ll do my part. Maybe we’ll have more information once the ceremony is over and we can figure out a new plan.”
“Speaking of the ceremony,” Sariyah asked, eyeing her daughter, “do you know who you’re going to choose?”
“I do.”
Her mother smiled. “Is it a certain dashing Night mage?”
Ros grinned. “Maybe.”
Sariyah took her hand. “If he is the one you want, I will support any decision you make. I trust your judgement.”
“He’s the one I want,” Ros had whispered to her mother.
She whispered it again now as she sat on her bed staring through the open window. There was no doubt in her head or her heart that Cassian was the right choice.
Ros pulled the last of her clothes on and stood to go to the vanity table, but something on her pillow caught her eye. She reached over and picked up the folded piece of paper. It was sealed with an upside-down triangle with a line through it pressed into green wax—the elemental symbol for Earth.
She smiled. Probably something silly from Larkin meant to calm her nerves before she chose her husband. She broke the seal and opened the paper. She recognized her best friend’s handwriting immediately and quickly read the single sentence upon it. Then she read it again. And again. The words started to blur together and she realized she was crying.
One sentence, each word a punch to the gut.
She jolted when someone knocked on the door. She heard a servant call, “Princess, they’re waiting for you.”
Ros wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there staring at the paper, or when she’d fallen to her knees beside her bed. She called back, “I’ll be right there.”
She stood and folded the paper, tucking it away in the hidden pocket of her dress. Though it was out of sight, the words still danced before her eyes:
If you want to see your father alive again, choose Earth.
Ros tried not to look for Larkin when she entered the throne room, but the girl stood out like the only green tree in a forest of gray. She was gorgeous, as usual, in a floor-length gown dotted with tiny emeralds that glittered in the light streaming through the tall windows. Her best friend stood beside her brother—the jerk had the nerve to smile at her—and their parents were behind them talking to a noble from Fire house. The sight of them all made Rosalinde’s skin crawl, while the knowledge of what Larkin and Zandor had done made her feel like she was going to vomit.
It took Ros a moment to calm her stomach and her nerves as she walked down the center of the room towards the dais. Her mother and sister stood to either side of the throne, resplendent in matching scarlet gowns cut to fit like gloves. She envied them a bit, even now while she was the center of attention. Their grace was easy, perfectly suited to the royal family—meanwhile Ros could barely walk through the court because her knees were wobbling so bad.
She looked at the chair they stood beside, her father’s empty throne. Ros steeled herself against the pang of guilt and hurt ricocheting through her gut as she marched towards it. They expected her to sit there, to make her pronouncement from the throne and become their new ruler in King Tancred’s absence, but she knew she couldn’t do it. Sitting there felt like betrayal, and she’d had enough of that already.
Ros stepped onto the dais, her black gown swishing as she climbed the steps. She gave her family a smile before turning to face the assembly. She wasn’t ready to see Cassian; part of her hoped she wouldn’t have to see him, unsure she’d have the willpower to do what she must with him there.
But of course, there he was, front and center. He wore his customary black, and she hoped he took notice of the dress she’d chosen to match him. For the first time, she wished he could read her mind and understand that she was doing what she had to, not what she wanted to. She looked into his eyes and wished for a lot of things.
When he smiled up at her, the hope beaming from his face brighter than the sun, it almost broke her resolve. She wanted to call him forward, name him as her betrothed, and let him know exactly how she felt.
She took a deep breath and let her eyes move from him to wander over the rest of the crowd. Teague and Beckett stood at the back of the room, sharing a secret smile; William was seated beside Graeme at the front of the assembly as they recovered from their wounds; she saw Florian with his cousin, and when their eyes met, he nodded at Cassian and gave her a thumb’s up.
It was all she could do not to break down right then, reliving all she had done over the last few days. Everything had been for naught.
Instead, she turned her gaze to the room and let her eyes bore into Larkin’s. “I’ve known the end of this story since I was a child. The Princess chooses her husband, chooses the future king for Talabrih. Little did I know, there was never really a choice for me.”
Whispers cascaded through the room at her words, unsure what to make of them. She lifted her hands to silence them, saying, “I have met some wonderful men through this journey and I hope we can continue to work together for the future of our land, even though I’m unable to choose you to walk this path with me.” She took a deep breath, her eyes flicking to Cassian one last time before she said the thing that would change everything. “Love can take you by surprise and make your world a brighter place. That’s what happened to me this last week. I had no idea the revelation in store for me when the Great Match began.
“But some of you did,” she said, letting her gaze return to the Earth house nobles. “Some of you knew that I’d never considered him as a mate, though I’ve known him all my life. But my eyes have been opened to exactly who he is, and exactly what kind of king he would be. So please, welcome my fiancé to the dais: Lyzandor Zolto of Earth house.”
A polite smattering of applause echoed through the room, though Ros was certain the stunned silence was far louder. Zandor himself looked surprised when his name was called, as if he hadn’t had a hand in this whole charade.
Ros glanced to Cassian—or where he had been. But he was gone. Disappeared like only a Night mage could.
She wanted to believe she could track him down and tell him the truth about what was happening, but she knew it was just a pretty lie she was whispering to herself. Even if she could find him, which she had no idea where to start looking, and if he would listen and maybe even help her, Cassian wasn’t interested in being second. Her heart was divided between loving him and saving her father, but Cassian wanted all or nothing. He wouldn’t accept the trade she made to rescue King Tancred, even if he understood why she did it.
Zandor was beside her now, one hand slipping around her waist as he waved to the crowd. Behind them, Queen Sariyah said, “It is an honor to welcome you to the family, Lyzandor Zolto. We will make plans for the wedding and send out invitations in the near future. Congratulations to Earth house for raising this esteemed Elementalist and your future king!”
The clapping was louder this time, though Rosalinde didn’t believe there was sincerity to it. Whether it
was because the other houses were disappointed about not getting their own competitor in, or because they all lacked enthusiasm where Zandor was concerned, Ros couldn’t say.
As the applause faded, Elsabet chimed in, “Since we have competitors returning in three months for the alternate Great Match that’s been arranged, perhaps we should have the royal wedding then? It would be a beautiful way to celebrate the new couples who find one another through matches of their own.”
Queen Sariyah’s eyes narrowed slightly as she said, “Lovely idea, but of course it will be at the discretion of Princess Rosalinde. I’m certain she’s eager to begin her life with—”
“Three months is fine,” Ros said, cutting her off. “It shall be done at the new Match.”
She wanted to throw her arms around Elsa and smother her in kisses. Her sister had bought her three whole months to find a way out of this arrangement. It wasn’t a long time, but weddings from the Great Match usually fell anywhere from a week to a month after. Three months was unheard of. Ros wouldn’t have thought of such a thing herself, but having her sister say it in front of the whole assembly gave her the perfect excuse for the delay.
Ros turned and forced a smile at her betrothed. His brows furrowed for only a second at the mention of the delay before his face smoothed out and he said, “As you wish, my love.”
“Wonderful,” Queen Sariyah said. “Now that everything is settled, let’s retire to the dining hall for a celebratory feast.”
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Rosalinde said, “but isn’t there one thing you’re forgetting?”
Sariyah’s face paled at her daughter’s words. “And what’s that, darling?”
“It’s time to make me queen.”
Chapter 38
The crowning was not a grand affair. Maybe it would have been, if Rosalinde had allowed for the time needed to prepare. But in truth, she didn’t care about all that. She didn’t want the throne and had no desire to be queen. She did it because it was the smart thing to do.
Anything could happen between now and her wedding, and there was a chance she wouldn’t find her father, especially now that she didn’t have Cassian’s help. Better she take the throne now and foil any other plans that might be underway, rather than wait and let Earth house have another chance to steal their way onto it.
The impartial judges who had graded the contestants at the opening ceremony were called forth, each reciting their house’s oath of loyalty to the new ruler. The nobles present did their parts, clapping or reciting when they were supposed to, silent the rest of the time. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be that way or if they were in shock. Ros had never seen the crowning ceremony herself, but something about this still felt mild in comparison to what she’d imagined.
It wasn’t until Queen Sariyah removed the crown from her own head and placed it on her daughter’s that the whole thing became real to Rosalinde. Until then, it had seemed tactical, the best move in this strange game she was playing. When the crown rested on her brow, she became fully aware of the weight of it. She was Talabrih’s ruler now. Everything she did would impact her kingdom.
But maybe, with a lot of planning and a little luck, she could make more of this than her enemies imagined. She wasn’t the same girl they knew from a week ago. She was stronger, braver, and though she was broken in this moment, she wouldn’t stay that way. Rosalinde was the Queen of Talabrih, and with help or alone, she would figure out a way to get what she wanted.
Whatever the cost.
The End.
About the Author
Shelly Jarvis began working on speculative fictions thanks to a writing assignment in Mrs. Bettijane Burger’s eleventh grade English class, but her passion for writing developed at seven when she wrote a Halloween tale about a witch and a ghost who became best friends.
An avid science fiction and fantasy reader, Shelly spends a large portion of each new day dwelling in other worlds.
Shelly enjoys spending time with her wacky spouse, her wonderful nephews, and her rescue pups, Gimli, Butters, Fergus, and Pickles. She currently resides near Charleston, West Virginia, in the wild and wonderful mountains that have her heart.
Learn more at www.ShellyJarvis.com
Also by Shelly Jarvis
Next in Series:
Earth House
Other Fiction Books by Shelly Jarvis:
TAP
Black Sea Bright Song
The Dreamwalker
Rise of the Chosen
Non-Fiction by Shelly Jarvis and Alexis Hunter:
Less is More
Water House Page 16
