“Ah, I know that look,” Ceren said, taking my arm and prodding Grig on ahead of us. Gods, was it that obvious? “My brother is blessed with both a handsome face and a charming disposition. He’s a favorite here at court.”
There was a bitterness to his tone that hinted at jealousy. But Ceren was not unattractive, and my mother was living proof that charm could be an illusion.
“Did he make an appearance at Old Castle yesterday?” Ceren asked.
“Yes. And we met in Varenia, as I’m sure you recall.” The words were deliberately pointed. I wanted to know why Ceren had sent his brother as his errand boy.
“Oh yes, I’d forgotten. He said you were perfect. ‘As pure and unblemished as a Varenian pearl.’ I hate it when he’s right.”
The night we’d had dinner at the governor’s house, Talin had said he couldn’t imagine anyone more lovely. He had been looking at me when he said it, but if he truly believed that lack of imperfection equaled beauty, then I must have been mistaken. My scar tingled as my cheeks heated with embarrassment.
“‘Beware the lionfish, my dear,’” Ceren said in a low voice.
“What?”
“Isn’t that how the Varenian song goes? I remember Queen Talia singing it to Talin when he was little. You wave children love your lullabies.”
The line was part of a Varenian cradle song we all grew up with. It warned children to stay away from dangerous sea creatures, but each line had a hidden meaning. For example, lionfish are curiously beautiful, a spectacle of a fish that begs to be touched, despite their venomous spines. But we weren’t just to beware of lionfish; we were to steer clear of anyone too flashy, too proud. I was surprised Ceren knew this, and that he would use it to describe his own brother.
“‘Beware the lionfish, my dear,’” I murmured. “‘Beware the fish that’s made of stone.’”
“Hmm?”
“That’s the next line of the song.” The stonefish was even more dangerous than the lionfish, in part because it had stronger venom, but also because it was hard to see. A stonefish could blend in to the rocks around it so well you wouldn’t know it was there until it was too late and you’d placed a hand or foot directly on top of it. The message there was clear: be careful and cautious with your heart, for things are not always what they seem. At least the lionfish made its presence known.
“I haven’t heard it in years, so you’ll forgive me for forgetting.”
I inclined my head.
“Your name means pearl, does it not?”
“Yes,” I said, my thoughts immediately turning to my sister. I had always been the coral, never the pearl. Now I was supposed to be the thing everyone wanted, the object a future king desired above all else.
I had slowed my pace to match the prince’s, and Grig was now almost out of sight at the end of the corridor. Ceren moved his hand from my arm to the small of my back.
“There’s something in here I’d like to show you,” he said, reaching for a door I hadn’t noticed in the dim corridor.
I wanted to call out to Grig, but Ceren ushered me through the door before I could say anything. We were in a chamber roughly the size of my bedroom, and for a moment I feared this was Ceren’s personal chamber. He went to the far side and lit a match from a small lantern, then touched it to a pile of logs in the fireplace. As the wood caught fire, more of the room came into view.
It appeared to be a workroom, not a bedroom. There were three tables of varying sizes, all covered in glass bottles and bowls, as well as various objects I had no words for. On the floor in the corner lay what looked like an empty sack. A long hose was coiled next to it.
“This is my study,” the prince said. “I love to learn, about anything and everything.” He picked up a small bowl that was filled with pink pearls of all shapes and sizes. “One of the things that most fascinates me is the Varenian pearl. I’m sure you know people here use them in creams and ointments for all manner of ailment. I burned my hand on the fire last week.” He held his hand up, palm out. “Not a trace of the blister. No scar. Miraculous.”
I looked at the bowl of pearls and felt my anger rise. There were enough there to feed my family for a year. We were harvesting the pearls to extinction, and for what? To spare one man from a blister?
“Your people know far more about the pearls than I do, no doubt,” he continued. The words coming out of his mouth were perfectly harmless. He’d said nothing sinister or frightening in the past few minutes, and yet my heart hammered in my chest. He clearly harbored some sort of animosity toward Queen Talia and Prince Talin, maybe toward all Varenians. I wiped my sweating palms on my skirts. My body was telling me I was in danger, even if my mind didn’t want to accept it.
Ceren walked over to the empty sack and held up a corner of it to show me. “This will be my greatest invention yet. It’s an underwater breathing apparatus. With this device, a man can stay underwater for ten minutes, maybe more. But it’s not ready, unfortunately. The test we conducted yesterday had rather disastrous results, I’m sorry to say. We lost a servant in the process.”
He watched me for a reaction as I struggled to conceal my horror. How could anyone dismiss death so casually?
“Such a shame, really. He was just a year younger than you. By the time—”
“Milady?”
I spun around at the sound of Grig’s voice. “Grig!”
“I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize you’d stopped until I was halfway down the next corridor. Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ceren snapped. “She’s been with me the entire time. What could be safer than that?”
I could think of a thousand things safer than this man—a hammerhead shark, perhaps. Or even a riptide.
I took hold of Grig’s arm. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. Still adjusting to land, I think. I’ll return to my chamber for a bath, if it’s all right with you.”
“Ah yes, your baths. I heard you’ve ordered two a day. You must feel like a fish out of water here, hmm?”
Had he found out about my baths from a servant, or from one of the tunnels through the stone? And if someone was listening to me, did that mean they could also see me if they wanted to?
I cleared my throat. “Yes, that is precisely how I feel. Thank you for showing me your...room.”
“We can resume the tour later, when you’re feeling better.”
I was almost through the doorway when Ceren called after us. “Oh, and Grig? Feel free to return to Old Castle. Your services here are no longer required.”
* * *
I lay in my bath until the water had turned cold and my skin began to pucker. Since leaving Varenia, I hadn’t washed my face unless I was sure I was alone, and even then I immediately reapplied the stain. I was getting so used to seeing myself without my scar that on the one occasion the stain wore off in my sleep during the journey, the sight of it had startled me.
Ebb wrapped a towel around me as I stepped out of the tub onto the cold floor. Far worse than the oppressive weight of the stone around me was the darkness. It had only been one day without sun, and already I ached for it so deeply I could feel it in my bones. I looked up at the pathetic skylights and scowled. The amount of light that filtered through was barely enough to illuminate the room during the day. How had Talia survived here as long as she did?
The king was planning to attend dinner that evening, so Ebb dressed me in another dark gown, this one with a diamond-patterned skirt, the rows of diamonds made of different fabrics to highlight the contrasts. The collar was up to my throat, but a diamond had been cut out of the bodice to reveal the bare skin beneath, right where Ceren had touched me. I had never worn anything that exposed my chest like this in Varenia.
“Why must everything be so dull and colorless?” I muttered as I smoothed out the wide skirts with my palms
.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “It’s as I told you, milady—we’re in mourning for Princess Ilara. She died at sea when she was kidnapped by a prince from Kuven.”
“I thought Prince Laef and Princess Ilara ran away to be together,” I said, confused. “That’s what we were told in Varenia.”
Ebb frowned. “You must have misunderstood.”
I shook my head. No doubt in Kuven, people claimed that Ilara was responsible for Prince Laef’s death. “But how can an entire kingdom still be in mourning for a princess who died hundreds of years ago?”
“When Ilara died, her younger brother Maldon became the crown prince, as she had no other sisters,” she explained. “He was only ten at the time, and Ilara’s death hit him extremely hard. He developed a debilitating fear of water. That’s why the castle was moved here to Mount Ayris, away from the ocean and rivers, and even lakes. He also ordered a decree that everyone wear mourning clothes under penalty of death. The decree has never been lifted.”
“But why not?”
“I’m not quite sure, milady.” She began to pile my hair onto my head, fastening it with jet pins that glittered amid the coils. “I believe it’s because we’ve been waiting for a new princess all this time. A princess who will restore the queendom to what it once was, who will quell the uprisings and unite the territories under the Ilarean flag. But our kings only ever have sons.”
I twisted my mouth to the side. I still didn’t see why we had to wear such joyless clothing.
“Shall I powder your hair, milady?” Ebb asked as she adjusted the final pin.
I turned to look at her. “Whatever for?”
“Some of the lords and ladies do it to curry favor with Prince Ceren.”
I shook my head, and she continued to fix my hair. I tried to imagine myself doing this, day in and day out, for a century. The thought brought tears to my eyes.
I wiped them away and took a deep breath. I had only left Varenia a week ago. I still had two weeks to learn something valuable to tell Sami at the market, aside from the fact that the Varenian queen was dead and her husband might soon follow in her wake.
Be brave, I told myself. For Zadie. For Varenia.
15
The dining hall was filled with lords and ladies and dozens of servants, all witnesses to what I was sure would be many missteps on my part. Ebb and I had gone over the cutlery and various forms of address, but I hadn’t fully memorized everything yet.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay with me through the meal.
I closed my eyes and thought of Zadie again, of what she’d say to me if she were here. I searched for the inner strength she said I possessed, but I felt empty, hollow, like a shell of the girl who believed she was meant for a world bigger than the one she knew. I wished I’d taken something of Zadie’s with me to hold on to; that I had something more tangible than memories.
A servant showed me to my seat, which, as I’d feared, was the same place where I’d eaten lunch. Ceren would be at my side for who knew how long. Lords and ladies followed my example and came to the table, nodding at me solemnly.
Ceren entered a few minutes after I did. His hair was loose around his shoulders, falling in ribbons to the middle of his chest. Though I found his paleness peculiar, it also fascinated me. It was as if he’d been carved from a block of white stone. And there was something in his expression, the awareness in his eyes and tension in his posture, that hinted at his intelligence.
Everyone, including me, dropped into a bow or curtsy, but I watched him from under my lashes. He looked bored, like he’d rather be back in his room fiddling with whatever it was he was working on.
Then his eyes fell on me, and that glimmer returned to his eye, a sharp look I didn’t like. He strode toward me and took my hand, bringing it to his lips once again. They were firm and dry against my skin.
“You look lovely, my lady.”
I was saved from responding by the sudden shift in the air that signaled someone else approaching. The king, surrounded by lords and ladies, slowly shuffled into the room, looking pitifully small under his giant fur robes. It was a wonder he could walk at all. He carried a golden staff that was probably meant to be ornamental, but I could tell he was using it to prop himself up. The walk from the door to his seat was short, fortunately, and he collapsed into his chair just as someone else entered the room.
It was Prince Talin. Dread washed over me even while I found myself craning my neck for a better look. It wasn’t just that he was handsome; he stood out here, as vibrant as a parrotfish in a school of gray mullets. He wore a midnight blue doublet, his brown hair curling just above the high collar.
I slipped my hand free from Ceren’s, who still hadn’t let it go, and I felt him stiffen beside me.
“Lionfish,” he whispered in my ear.
Stonefish, I thought back.
I straightened as Talin approached our end of the table. I had no idea where the second son of a king sat, when there could only be one foot and one head at a table. Most of the chairs had lords and ladies behind them, but the one to my left was empty—a fortunate arrangement, since my scar was on my right cheek.
He bowed when he reached me, and I curtsied back, finally feeling a bit steadier in the process. The brothers greeted each other coolly. Everyone else took their seats when the princes sat, and I realized that my chair was much closer to Talin’s than Ceren’s. The king and his heir had the ends of the table to themselves, while the chairs along the sides were pressed together to accommodate so many guests.
“How have you enjoyed your time in Ilara so far?” Talin asked in a low voice.
I glanced at him sideways and tried to imagine how Zadie would behave in this situation. “New Castle is an interesting place,” I said, because my sister would never insult a man’s home. “I can see I have a lot to learn about your people and their ways.”
I could feel Ceren straining to hear us, but there was too much chatter in the room.
“They are your people now,” Talin said.
They were no more my people than the Varenians were Ceren’s, but I nodded anyway. I wanted to ask him about his trip to Ilara, why he hadn’t told us he was a prince. I wanted to know if he recognized me. I wanted to know if he’d thought of me after he left Varenia, or if I’d merely been an insignificant detail in his report to Ceren about Varenia.
And, ridiculous as it was, I found myself wanting to brush away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.
But I couldn’t. He had to believe I was Zadie, and I was destined to marry his brother either way.
I shivered, wishing I’d worn a warmer gown.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice so soft I wondered if I’d imagined it.
Though the compliment pleased me, I couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing that Ceren was watching us. “Thank you.”
“How is your family?” he asked, sitting back a bit while a servant filled his cup with wine.
“I’m not sure,” I said. What was happening between Sami and Zadie? Had Mother forgiven her yet? Had she forgiven me? Were they hungry, or was Father managing to catch enough fish to feed them?
“But they were well when you left?”
I shrugged. “As well as can be expected.”
“Nor must have been very sad to see you go.”
My eyes flew to his involuntarily. There was no flicker of doubt there. Surely if he knew I was Nor, he would say something. “She was heartbroken.”
“I’m sorry. I can only imagine what a loss it must be.”
I closed my eyes to keep them from filling with tears. It was the first time someone here had acknowledged that coming to Ilara was a sacrifice. “I was deeply saddened to learn of your mother’s passing. I would have liked to have known her.”
“She would have treated you like a daughter.” His voice w
as thick with empathy, something I never would have expected here. He couldn’t know how much his words both pleased and saddened me.
“I would have liked that very much,” I managed.
There was a commotion at the end of the table as the king rose with the help of a strapping lord, raising his cup in a toast. As he spoke of “our beautiful future queen,” a hundred eyes fell on me.
I rose and raised my glass, murmuring a barely audible thank-you. As I sat back down in my chair, my sweaty palm slipped on the wooden armrest, and I listed to the side. Talin reached out and caught my arm in his hand, propping me back upright in my chair.
“I’d blame the wine, but you haven’t tasted yours yet,” he said.
“I’m just nervous.” I glanced at his hand, still lingering on my arm. “All of this is so new to me.”
He leaned closer to be heard above the conversation, and I inhaled as quietly as possible. He smelled like sunlight, like fresh air and living things. “My mother used to feel out of place at these dinners, as well. She didn’t speak much about Varenia, but I could always tell when she was thinking of home.”
Home. The word was too small for everything it meant: the ocean, our house, my parents, Zadie. Why had I wanted to leave?
“Did she ever feel at home here?” I asked, searching his eyes. “Did she ever belong?”
He frowned. “I don’t know the answer to that, I’m afraid.” He lowered his voice further and slowly loosened his grip. His trailing fingers left heat in their wake, unlike the chill I’d felt at Ceren’s touch. “You would be wise to spend less of your time talking to me and more with my brother. He isn’t pleasant when he’s jealous.”
“Is he ever pleasant?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
Talin’s eyes crinkled as his lips curled in the tiniest smile. “This should be interesting,” he said, before straightening in his chair and turning to the lady on his other side.
I spent most of the meal listening to the conversations that bubbled around me. Unable to join the chatter because of where he sat, Ceren sipped his wine and tasted his food, but it was clear he took no joy in any of it. His cold eyes drifted around the room, and I dreaded the moments they landed on me.
Crown of Coral and Pearl Page 16
