by Lea Doué
His hand rested low on her back, his grin wide. “You smell like sunshine.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
The silence and the music carried them through the dance. The girls joined them, all except Ivy, who still refused to step out of the shadows. Hazel and Neylan were not in the clearing; hopefully, they could find Bay without arousing suspicion. Lily would dance more holes in her slippers to keep Tharius occupied.
She needed to find out where his mother was from, anyway. It might help in her search for the sorcerer. “Your Highness—”
“Call me Tharius, Lily.”
“With respect, Your Highness, I won’t do that. And I haven’t given you leave to use my name so familiarly.” Although he’d done it before, and she’d said nothing.
“But we’re betrothed, my dear.” Tharius pulled her closer, if that were possible. “Who else has more right to address you so intimately.”
She didn’t like how he said “intimately,” as if he knew things about her already. She strained against him, knowing she wouldn’t win in a battle of physical strength.
He laughed and spun her around, closing the remaining inches between them. He might be pale, but warm blood flowed through his veins. Her face flamed. He needed a tunic over his shirt.
Clenching her jaw, she turned her head away. He needed a willing partner to break his curse, so she didn’t fear excessive force on his part, but she cringed at his nearness.
“Let me hear you say my name,” he said. “Have I not been patient? Have I not given you what freedom I could, waiting for you to come to me?” His voice rose, and his fingers dug into her hip. He barely missed a collision with Junia and her partner. “I ask so little. Can you not give me what I want?”
He wasn’t making any sense. He’d asked her for everything, taken her freedom. But she didn’t want to anger him, a sorcerer with unknown power and strength, especially with her sisters in his domain. She didn’t want him guessing how much they had accomplished trying to get around the limitations of her curse. She could bend a little to appease him, buy more time.
“Fine. Prince Tharius.”
“Tharius,” he growled, emphasizing his name with a shake and a spin that jarred her neck.
“Tharius,” she squeaked.
He smiled and increased the tempo as he eased his grip on her. The music, as always, kept time with his dancing, his moods, when he was on the floor. The song ended, and he let her go to her sisters, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Hazel stood with her arms around Ivy. “I don’t think he’s stable.”
“Would you be, if this was your home?” She wasn’t defending him, but he’d made choices out of desperation. She couldn’t say what she would have done in his place, but he shouldn’t have lied to them.
“I hope I won’t find out,” Hazel said.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” Ivy whispered and hugged Lily tightly. “You didn’t know.”
“But you did, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You tried.”
Ivy shrugged. “We just have to move forward.”
Lily hugged the two of them.
Hazel groaned. “It’s the wheezer, again. He’s fascinated with my hair.”
The gentleman Lily had danced with before limped towards them, his gaze locked on Hazel, who was noticeably taller than him.
“You do have nice hair,” Lily said.
“This one in particular keeps comparing me to The Golden Makar during his youth.”
“I never thought you looked particularly manly,” Lily said.
“Do you want to dance with him?”
“I wouldn’t want to deprive him. They do seem fond of shiny things here.”
“You’re shiny enough for all of us,” Hazel said.
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Lily swished her skirts, speckling the girls with reflected light. The gentleman blinked, dazzled either from the diamond-crusted gown or Hazel’s hair. Or both. He bowed, and Hazel joined him dutifully.
After escorting Coral over, Tharius claimed Lily for the next dance. And the next. She finally insisted that the younger girls needed sleep, or they would be too tired tomorrow, and people would get even more suspicious.
As the girls passed through the archway, Tharius rested his arm around Lily’s waist. Ruby and Wren went last, leaning on each other for support.
“Take me with you,” he whispered into her ear, sending tingles down her spine.
“I can’t.”
His jaw clenched, and he pulled away.
Bay was still in there somewhere. “Not yet. I just . . . need more time.”
He didn’t respond, but when she turned after transforming back into her own clothes, he stood closer to the archway than he had ever dared before.
*
Melantha and the stars led them out of the maze, and Azure’s hunger pangs drove them to the kitchens.
“Grab something quick.” Mara stuffed rolls into her belt pouch. “The kitchens don’t stay empty for long.”
They snatched apples and cheese from the counter top and had almost filled a small basket when footsteps sounded in the hall. The girls’ eyes widened in panic, and Lily’s skin flashed hot and cold all at once. They had nowhere to run and no time to become invisible.
She should have known who it was.
Runson didn’t notice them, being absorbed with the curvy brunette by his side. Their demeanor, while not inappropriate, was something more than friendly. The girl saw them first, squeaked, and ran off. Mara stared after the girl with a frown.
Runson didn’t spare a glance for his companion, but he studied the twelve princesses, brows lowered, lips puckered in confusion or distaste. Then he smiled.
That meant trouble.
Hazel approached him, getting so close that he had to look up at her. They all knew he was in awe of Hazel, bordering on intimidated.
“What are you doing here?” Hazel asked.
He backed up, straightened himself, and said, “I could ask you the same thing.” The smile was still smug, but strained.
Hazel took a step forward and arched one of her already beautifully-arched eyebrows.
Runson cleared his throat and added, “Your Highness.”
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to you.”
“Of course not. Your Highness.” He didn’t back down, and managed to appear as if he looked down at her instead. “Although, your mother will find it interesting to know that you’ve been out exploring the palace at such a late hour. Without a guard.”
Hazel waited until he squirmed under her gaze—just a small shift in his posture, but she made her point. “You seem fond of telling stories lately.”
He turned red. He hadn’t answered Hazel’s question.
“What are stories among friends? Lily and I used to be quite close, once, or have you forgotten?” He glanced at Lily, and she managed to keep her face blank. “For my part, I’m only concerned with her well- being.”
Sure he was.
“And that of the queen, of course,” he added. “We don’t need any more rumors spreading during this time of year, do we?”
He glanced at Ivy openly, reminding them that the queen’s emotional state on the anniversary of her son’s death, which happened to be tomorrow, was shaky at the best of times. He was threatening to spread rumors. Melantha didn’t have a name good enough to describe how low he’d sunk.
He wanted something.
Neylan guessed the same. “What do you want?”
His eyes narrowed at the lack of title, although they had every right not to use it. He’d only ever asked Lily to address him informally, but she’d stopped doing that when she’d caught him sneaking around with a different brunette.
He huffed. “What do you mean? I’m only concerned with your family’s well-being.”
He’d just said that.
Melantha snorted, and Mara elbowed her to be quiet.
> Junia whispered for the younger girls to finish packing their basket. They bustled around quietly, all except Coral, who leaned against the counter.
He waited for a response. When no one offered, he chuckled humorlessly. “Fine. You know me too well, don’t you?” He stepped around Hazel to address Lily. “What I want is for the elusive and mysteriously quiet Princess Lily to give me the time of day. We did mean something to each other once.”
Again, no response from Lily or the others.
He sobered. “Fine. I’ll say it plainly. I want you to join me for dinner tomorrow, just like you did with Prince Holic.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lily should have seen that coming—Mother had warned she’d have to face Runson. She didn’t know how, though, since she literally couldn’t give him the time of day.
Hazel wrinkled her nose like she did when one of the orphans ate something off the floor. Gwen looked resigned. Neylan shrugged. Everyone tiptoed around Mother this time of year. Lily had to find a way to get rid of Runson somehow.
“Wait,” Melantha said. “You want a date with Lily, just like Prince Holic?”
Lily caught the emphasis on just. Oh, she hoped Melantha was planning what she thought. What a wicked, wonderful girl.
Runson raised his chin. “Yes, just like the prince. My family connections are as good as his, and I’ve know Lily far longer. And I’m an Iturian, not some foreigner.”
Coral pushed away from the counter. “Mother’s an Oshan, like Holic.”
Lily swallowed a laugh. She needed to get the girls to bed before they got themselves in trouble.
Runson glared at Coral, but he kept his chin up, confidently awaiting an answer.
Lily nodded once and stepped away to help Junia with the basket, leaving Hazel to work out the details.
“Lily cannot have dinner with you on the night of a ball.” Hazel used her princess voice. “Afternoon tea will be acceptable. She will meet you at the butterfly gazebo—the same place she dined with Holic. Goodnight.” She left before he had a chance to respond.
Lily waited to the side while the girls filed out of the kitchens, careful not to let anyone brush against her, just in case.
Runson smirked and offered a mocking bow. “Until tomorrow.”
She wished this could be the last time she turned her back on him. There were so many things she wanted to say, but maybe not saying anything was more eloquent right now.
*
Lily took extra time in the morning to scrub the grit out of her eyes. She hadn’t been the only one who’d had troubled dreams. The first time, she’d lain awake as long as she could, afraid she might cry out in her sleep and doom them all accidentally. She wasn’t sure if the curse made allowances for sleep noises.
The girls who weren’t in the bathing room still slept, including Ivy. Lily donned a soft grey dress much like the blue one, but with pewter buttons. It reminded her of the colors Ivy favored. Her sister rested peacefully at the moment, but that would change. Her birthday had always been rough. Always. Mother and Father had never been able to rally themselves enough to celebrate the day that one child lived, so busy were they mourning the loss of the other, leaving Ivy with a look in her young eyes that should have been reserved for an older, more world-weary person.
Lily laid her book of translated stories on Ivy’s pillow. No matter what she and the other girls did to make her day special, and no matter how much Ivy appreciated their efforts, the fact remained that she was invisible to her parents on that one day every year, a reminder of the son they’d lost.
She kissed Ivy’s brow, grabbed her satchel, and tiptoed down the stairs.
Azure bounded in from the hall with the basket of kittens, minus one. “Eben’s not here, yet.”
Lily scratched a few fuzzballs behind the ears. She fetched the bottle of milk she’d nabbed for them last night and tucked it into the basket. She mimed opening a book, letting Azure know she would be in the library.
“I’ll tell him when he gets here.”
Lily grinned as Azure bounced up the stairs with the kittens.
*
She made it to the library without seeing a single person—a small relief. As soon as Eben caught up, she would leave. No need to be late again and risk more talk getting back to Mother. With Father gone, Mother would have to make an appearance at The Masked Ball tonight. It wouldn’t be easy for her.
Lily opened a records book, smoothed down the pages, and ran her finger along the entries, line after line of names and dates, names and dates.
Nothing.
Hefting a large volume to the table, she wished Eben were there. It had only been a few days, but she missed their discussions, even when they didn’t see eye to eye. She’d missed him every time he’d gone on patrol with the dragon guard, but this was different. It felt as if she’d been trying to say goodbye to him since she’d passed her twenty-first birthday, when she was supposed to have chosen a husband; but she didn’t want to say goodbye. She’d never wanted anyone else, and now she couldn’t tell him that, or ask him how he felt.
She slammed the book closed. Mother needed to revoke the ridiculous deadline so Lily would have time to break this stupid curse.
Eben waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. “Anything useful?”
She shook her head.
“Me either.”
She’d expected as much.
“We have a stop to make before heading for the field.” His tone said he didn’t want to tell her where the stop was, which told her exactly. “Your Mother wants to see you.”
Yep. She didn’t have much hope that Mother meant to take back the deadline. Probably, Runson had squealed about last night, to ensure she’d follow through on her date.
Eben didn’t know about that, yet.
Halfway to the king’s study, footsteps echoed from a side hall ahead, approaching fast. Eben stepped in front of Lily. Holic sprinted around a corner and skidded to a stop. His red hair stuck up in odd windblown angles.
“Something wrong?” Eben asked.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Thought I’d have to run all the way to the village.” He took a few breaths. “Yarrow is back.”
Lily let out a tiny sigh. Ivy could relax a bit now.
Eben’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me? And how do you know Yarrow?”
Most people would have said “a man like Yarrow.” Eben didn’t care that Yarrow had been a sorcerer once upon a time, and he knew Yarrow wouldn’t send a message with just anyone.
Holic’s face sobered. “His nephew works at one of my father’s estates. Yarrow passes through from time to time. He’s a good man, whatever his past.”
Yarrow didn’t have many defenders. Holic had just made an ally of at least one more princess.
Eben relaxed. “His message?”
Holic took a moment before he responded, as if he’d prepared more arguments and didn’t know what to do with them. “He’s looking for you. Urgently.”
Eben couldn’t leave without her permission, and someone to take his place. She motioned for him to go. More than anyone else, Yarrow might be able to guess what was going on. Or at least recognize the taint of sorcery.
“Holic, could you—”
“Yes, of course.” Holic shooed Eben away. “I need something to keep me busy.”
“Stay with her until I can catch up again.”
“Go!”
Eben rushed off, and then turned abruptly and hurried back, his boots squeaking on the tiles. “Do you have any sketches?”
She’d tucked the sketch of the maze and the mirror back into her book last night. She handed the whole thing to Eben, hoping Yarrow might make sense of it. Maybe they could show him the twins’ paintings later.
Eben ran.
“I’d offer you my arm,” Holic said, “but it seems I’m your guard, for now. And I’ve no idea where we’re going.” He swept his arm out indicating she should lead the way.
Gwen waited outside the king’s study with Hazel, Mara, and Neylan.
Lily’s back straightened at the sight of them, and the sick feeling in her stomach settled a bit.
“Eben told us you had a meeting,” Gwen said.
Holic greeted the girls and followed when they entered the room, unaware that guards didn’t join in on meetings. Lily welcomed his presence.
Mother’s face reddened, and she rose from Father’s seat. She had company. Runson, of course, and a couple of officials.
“Prince Holic,” Mother said, her voice tight.
“Your Majesty.” Holic bowed low. His expression echoed the tension in the room.
“Lily.” Mother’s voice snapped. “Would you care to tell me why you dragged your sisters along to a meeting you alone were summoned to?”
“Lily had nothing to do with our presence,” Hazel said. She and Mother had both wound their hair into golden crowns, mirror images, past and future.
“So, now all my daughters are disobeying me?” She waved a paper from the desk. “Who is responsible for ordering dozens of slippers?”
Coral had only ordered two pair for each of them, and had surprisingly requested the cheapest material possible. But that didn’t matter at the moment.
No one would squeal on Coral. Lily stepped forward, hoping to draw Mother’s attention away from the girls, but Mother interpreted the movement as a confession.
She slammed the paper on the desk. “You’re the leader, aren’t you? You’ve convinced your sisters to follow you in this ridiculous silent treatment!” Mother never yelled in front of officials, but then, she usually hid in the privacy of her own rooms this time of year. “If my son had lived, things would be different!”
“Mother!” Gwen said.
Lily clamped her hand over her mouth. The other girls made small noises of protest, and Holic stepped forward until his shoulder brushed Lily’s. One of the officials opened and closed his mouth like a fish, wordlessly.
Mother trembled. “A son would never treat me this way,” she said, her voice soft, but firm. “Whoever can discover what’s going on with my daughters can have their choice in marriage.”
“Mother, no!” Gwen stepped to Lily’s side and wrapped an arm around her.
