She hummed a tune Lina didn’t recognize.
“Nope. Don’t know it.”
Fiora walked to their side.
“Trying to stand out again? Everyone must sing the same song. Anything else could give a clue as to your country of origin. If you sing one note that’s different, I’ll call for your disqualification.”
Carina sighed.
“Fiora, at this point I’d be more surprised if you didn’t call for someone’s disqualification. Do you really want this dandy prince so badly?”
“Don’t use my name,” Fiora snapped. “We’re not supposed to know each other’s names.”
“Or countries,” Carina said. “But everyone knows yours.”
Fiora ran a hand through her bright red hair.
“It can’t be helped. Changing your appearance-”
“Is against the rules,” Lina said. “Yes, we know.”
Fiora glared at her and walked away. Carina waved to Eirwyn.
“Eirwyn, Lina has stage fright and can’t remember how The Snowbell Song goes. Help me teach it to her?”
Eirwyn smiled at Lina.
“I don’t blame you. I’m nervous to. Try to find a spot at the back of the line. By the time it’s your turn, you’ll have heard it so many times you won’t be able to get it out of your head.”
Carina clasped her friend’s hand.
“Eirwyn, you’re a genius!”
Eirwyn smiled.
“Carina told me about your secret mission. That we might be in danger?”
Lina raised an eyebrow.
“She can keep a secret,” Carina said. “She helped me cover for you while the tailor sewed your sleeve.”
“Are we still in danger?” Eirwyn asked.
Lina slipped her ring from her sash and raised it to her lips.
“Check for danger.”
The ring flashed red. Lina’s heart sank. Not pink. Red. Whatever the danger was, it was getting worse. It hadn’t ended when she sealed Nog away.
Eirwyn studied Lina’s ring with interest.
“Where did you get that? Magic gems are so rare! It looks ancient.”
“We have a magic sapphire,” Carina said. “My father keeps it in the deepest vault in a golden case. No one knows how to use it, but he insists it is magic and valuable.”
Lina frowned.
“You don’t have a court enchanter?”
“Heavens, no,” Carina said. “We don’t have any magic users. Not many people have the gift.”
“I’ve heard there are enchanters in Kell,” Eirwyn said. “And there are rumors about the dwarfs in Gaveron.”
“Magic isn’t a gift,” Lina said. “Magic is a skill. Something you learn.”
The princesses watched her skeptically.
“I know I’m not supposed to ask, but where are you from?” Carina said. “I haven’t heard of any countries with magic schools.”
“That would be amazing!” Eirwyn said. “I’d love to learn magic.”
Queen Marta interrupted their conversation.
“We’re beginning, Princesses. Please form a line.”
“Go to the back,” Carina whispered. “I’m staying in the middle.”
She jostled her way to the middle of the group. Lina and Eirwyn walked towards the back. Fiora got there first.
“No way,” she said. “I’m going last. I want to be the last thing he sees.”
Lina shrugged and took the second to last place in line. Eirwyn stood in front of her. They walked through a corridor to a small theater. From her place backstage, Lina peeked through the curtains. The audience was small. Queen Marta, Prince Stefan, and Prince Alaric sat in a middle row. The rest of the seats were empty.
A lute player sat on the stage. The first princess nodded to him, and he began a haunting tune. She sang, and Lina listened carefully. Thank goodness the song was simple. She hummed along. Yes, she would be able to sing this.
The first princess finished. The audience of three clapped for her. Only Queen Marta looked enthusiastic. Prince Alaric looked bored. Prince Stefan looked worried.
It was an unusual look for him. Lina watched him until the next singer began.
Yes, he was worried about something. Probably his brother, judging from the way he kept glancing in his direction.
The next princess sang, and Lina focused on learning the lyrics. They described snowbells on the mountainside. Not complicated. By the end of the fourth princess’s performance, Lina knew the song well enough to sing it.
By the end of the tenth, she knew it well enough to hate it.
21
Alaric’s jaw dropped in horror.
The same song.
They were all going to sing the same song.
He lost count after ten. The performances blurred together. The sappy lute introduction that had seemed sweet and sensitive at first. The lilting tune sung to perfection each time.
And by perfection, he meant exactly the same way. He turned to Stefan.
“Did you know about this?”
“That they were all singing the same song? No. I wouldn’t have come if I had known.”
“Hush,” Queen Marta said. “It is the next princess’s turn.”
Alaric recognized her. The seagull princess. Carina of Santelle. He studied her as she sang. There was nothing remarkable about her. The flowing blue gown that looked beautiful on many of the princesses hung loosely on her shoulders and swallowed her shape.
She sang the song simply. With just enough feeling to keep it from being boring, but not enough to draw him in.
He looked at her and felt absolutely nothing. It cleared his head. Made him see things straight.
Santelle was the obvious choice for a marriage treaty. Aeonia grew enough food. They had enough wool. They didn’t need a trading partner.
They did need a navy for protection in case anyone contested Alaric’s claim to the throne. And they needed a true princess. Alaric suspected that would be enough to silence those with objections. They might question him, but they wouldn’t question a Princess of Santelle.
No one would risk a fight with Santelle. No matter how much they wanted to attack Aeonia.
He looked back at Princess Carina and winced. Could he really spend his life with her by his side? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He could take her to the docks and feed fish to seagulls.
Did he have a choice? He hadn’t identified any other princesses besides Fiora, and an alliance with Kell would help Aeonia much less than one with Santelle.
If he married Carina, he would bury his heart completely. She was too bland to inspire passion either way. He didn’t love her or hate her.
He could rule without feelings clouding his judgment.
Carina finished her song and curtsied. Even her curtsy was boring. But as she walked off the stage, Alaric made his decision.
He chose his future bride.
The next few princesses passed in a blur. Now that he had made his choice, he just wanted it to be over. He would announce Carina as the winner of the singing competition. That was a clear enough sign of favoritism given her lackluster performance. The rest of the Princess Test would be a formality.
Then Lina walked onstage.
Alaric’s heart skipped a beat. The blue dress suited her. It flowed around her as she walked. She still kept her right arm glued to her side. Her hand stayed buried in the skirt. She limped slightly.
Was this it? Would she attack them here and now?
No. She nodded to the lute player and breathed deeply while he played the introduction. Alaric leaned forward. He caught Stefan and Marta sharing a look, but he didn’t care. Lina made eye contact and held it.
She sang, and Alaric didn’t know how to describe it. It went beyond her voice. She wasn’t the best singer. Not even close. Her voice, if he was honest, sounded scratchy and tired.
But it captured him completely. She sang without artifice. Without pretensions. She made him see the words in a completely different
way. Made him feel like he was in the field of snowbells with her.
She sang like magic.
Alaric gripped the edge of his seat. He wanted to stand. Wanted to run to her. To ask her for all her secrets and be brave and strong enough that she could trust him. That she would tell him the truth.
Lina finished the song and curtsied. She had to move her right arm to do it properly. Pain flashed across her face when she did.
Alaric’s heart leaped. She was hurt! He needed to help her! Needed to-
Fiora entered the stage as Lina left it. She stood in the center, demanding everyone’s attention with her posture. It occurred to Alaric that Kell’s royal family was even older than Santelle’s.
Fiora’s singing broke the spell. Alaric leaned back in his seat. He couldn’t afford to be so foolish. The piercing voice cleared his head.
He could not make this choice with his heart. He had to unite his lineage with a noble family. Aeonia needed protection. Needed Santelle’s navy.
He needed magic. Needed to see the sparkle in Lina’s green eyes again.
Magic. Alaric’s heart froze. Had Lina enchanted him with her magic ring? Was this how his father felt when Cassandra had him under her spell?
He couldn’t trust feelings. Couldn’t trust magic.
Couldn’t trust Lina.
Alaric gritted his teeth as Queen Marta called all the princesses back to the stage. They watched him. Waited for him. He stood and walked to the stage. This was it. Time to declare his favorite.
Time to make a choice.
Lina had given the best performance. Everyone knew it. The princesses glared at her. If he chose anyone but Lina, he would show enough favoritism to announce his intentions.
Choosing another girl meant choosing his future bride.
Fiora stood on the end of the stage. She stared at him, her mouth set in a grim line. Had she realized her advantage? That she was the easiest princess to identify? That Kell had the oldest royal family?
Lina stood next to her. She met his gaze, even smiled a little, but something haunted her eyes. She looked exhausted. As if the performance had drained her strength.
Carina stood in the middle. Alaric’s eyes passed her a few times, even though he was looking for her. She caught his eye then looked down at the floor. Probably thinking about fish.
“Your Highness,” Queen Marta said. “We are waiting for your decision.”
She and Stefan glanced at Lina. It was obvious what they expected him to do.
It was obvious what Alaric wanted to do.
But he couldn’t. Lina was a mystery. Dangerous. Whatever her reason for infiltrating the Princess Test, he couldn’t let her ruin it. He couldn’t let her magic ensnare him.
Alaric walked past Fiora. Past Lina. He swallowed, buried his emotions beneath a cool facade, and stopped in front of Princess Carina. He took her hand. Alarm flashed through her eyes so quickly Alaric thought he might have imagined it. He blinked, and her face became passive. Inexpressive.
She curtsied.
“You honor me,” she said.
Whatever honor she felt didn’t reach her voice. Alaric swallowed.
“I choose this Princess.”
He ignored Marta’s horrified face. Stefan’s wrinkled brow. Alaric stiffened his back, bowed from the waist, and kissed Carina’s hand.
22
“I don’t understand what I did wrong!”
Carina paced across the dressing room. Lina and Eirwyn watched her from a couch.
“I was bland, right? Please tell me I was bland!”
Lina and Eirwyn nodded.
“I don’t understand. Was it the seagulls? Did he find that interesting? Lina, you were there. He was bored, right?”
Lina stood and wrapped her good arm around her friend.
“Extremely bored. You were marvelously boring.”
“Then why? How? Why did he choose me?”
Eirwyn led Carina to the couch and helped her sink into it.
“He must have guessed where you’re from. Santelle is an obvious political choice.”
Lina flinched. Santelle? Carina was from that nation of bullies? Was Aeonia so desperate for protection that they needed to marry into military might?
Tears filled Carina’s eyes.
“I don’t want him,” she whispered. “I don’t like him. I don’t like it here. I want to go home.”
Lina sat next to Carina and patted her shoulder.
“It isn’t official yet, is it? He only chose you as the winner of the singing test.”
Carina tried to answer, but the sound caught in her throat. Eirwyn tapped her foot.
“It might as well be official. Carina was by no means the best singer in the test. In fact, I think that honor belongs to you.”
“Me?”
Carina nodded.
“He couldn’t take his eyes off you while you were singing. Did you use magic to help?”
She gestured to Lina’s ring.
“Of course not. I just sang. I- I’ve had an emotional few days. I needed a way to express it.”
“Hmm,” Eirwyn said. “I guess he hasn’t figured out what country you’re from yet. Neither have I.”
“That doesn’t matter. There are still several tests before Prince Alaric declares a bride.”
Eirwyn glared at Lina.
“Don’t you understand? By choosing Carina even though she wasn’t the best singer, Prince Alaric has marked her as his favorite. It would be difficult to back out of the arrangement now.”
“It would be impossible,” Carina sobbed. “My father would take it as an insult. He already thinks Aeonia is overconfident and weak.”
“Will he want you marrying Prince Alaric then?” Lina asked. “Aren’t you allowed to say no?”
Both girls dropped their heads to the floor.
“Technically, we are,” Eirwyn admitted.
“Technically,” Carina said.
“What do you mean?”
Eirwyn huffed.
“How are you ignorant of all this? You’re a princess! You should know these things!”
“I’m just trying to help!”
“Please, don’t shout,” Carina said.
She took a shaky breath and turned to Lina.
“It would be even more insulting for me to refuse Prince Alaric than it would be for him to back out of choosing me as his favorite. It would be seen as more than a personal choice. I act for all of Santelle. If I reject Alaric, Santelle rejects Aeonia. Father would have grounds to reject treaties and trade agreements. Other nations would see it as a precedent.”
“It could lead to war,” Eirwyn said. “Not directly, but it would start the ripples. Relations between the Myorian countries are strained right now. One false move could destroy our peace.”
“That’s stupid!” Lina said. “I’ll talk to them at the ball tonight. I’ll get you out of this, Carina.”
Carina paled.
“Please, don’t. Your home country would suffer horrible consequences. I’m not even sure you should tell anyone about the suspected danger.”
Lina stared at her.
“Why not? They need to know.”
“I don’t think they’ll believe you. They might think you’re trying to manipulate them.”
“But you believe me.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Because you saw my ring.”
Carina shook her head.
“No. I believe you because I trust you. Magic isn’t common in most countries, Lina. The Council will see it as a parlor trick designed to scare them.”
Lina turned to Eirwyn. The girl shrugged.
“She’s right. For all we know, a red glowing light on your ring means safety. Or nothing at all.”
“Why would a red glowing light mean safety?”
“Just be careful, Lina. And don’t try to interfere on my behalf. If I have to get married to keep the peace, then I will.”
Lina studied her friend. Carina�
��s bland facade slipped away. She met Lina’s gaze with calm bravery. Lina clasped her hands.
“You’re too good for him.”
“I hope not. I hope he improves once I know him better.”
The door clicked open, and the girls fell silent. Hilda walked in carrying a bundle of gowns. She examined Carina’s tear-stained face.
“Queen Marta thought you all might like to get ready for the ball together. Some of the other princesses are doing the same.”
Carina stood, but her shoulders shook. Lina and Eirwyn stood on either side and supported her.
“We’d like that very much,” Lina said. “Please thank Queen Marta for her kindness.”
“I bet Fiora’s group is plotting how to disqualify me,” Carina said. “She was furious.”
They all laughed.
The princesses prepared for the ball without saying much. What could they say that the maids wouldn’t carry away as incriminating gossip? Still it was nice to have companionship.
Hilda led an army of servants as they styled the princess’s hair in identical curls. They placed wreaths of snowbells over their heads.
Lina flushed when they brought in the gowns. They were lovely. Light purple lace in a simple silhouette. But the sleeves were short. That would show her injury. She risked pulling up her sleeve to glance at her wrist. Bruises curved around her arm. Each of Nog’s claws had left a mark.
Carina glimpsed the bruises and raised an eyebrow.
“How?” she whispered.
“Danger,” Lina whispered back.
She gestured toward the dresses across the room.
“What lovely gowns,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Are those short sleeves an Aeonian style?”
Carina’s eyes widened with understanding. A princess arriving at the ball with bruises around her wrist would be more than enough to cast suspicion on the Princess Test. It could destroy faith in Aeonia.
“Yes,” Carina said just as loudly. “They are far shorter than anyone in my kingdom would feel comfortable wearing.”
She nudged Eirwyn.
“Oh, yes,” Eirwyn said. “So very short!”
She looked questioningly at Carina. Hilda sighed.
“There is something wrong with the gowns, Princesses?”
The Princess and the Pea (Fairy Tale Adventures Book 1) Page 12
