by K. M. Shea
“I think King Giuseppe, Princess Alessia, and Prince Consort Filippo are scared. They cannot do anything more to hold back your curse, so they seize what little they can control and make assumptions because they are too frightened to think of what could happen to you.”
Briar sighed. “You’re probably right, but selfishly I want to be told they’re horrible to reject me.”
“You don’t really.” Isaia again brushed her shoulder with his thumb and watched her pet the cat. “You love them. That’s why their words hurt.”
She nodded miserably.
“Don’t change, Briar Rose,” Isaia said, suddenly intense.
Briar pulled back slightly so she could look up at him.
He stared at the horse stall across from them. “You’re an amazing woman, and one day you’ll make the perfect queen—even if it’s not what they think should be the perfect queen.” He met her gaze for several long moments, then looked away again.
Questions burned the back of her throat. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, things she couldn’t even put into words. “Isaia…”
He glanced at her.
Briar opened her mouth, and she froze in horror. Her curse. For the first time since learning she was Princess Rosalinda, the magnitude of the curse finally hit her.
If the curse struck—and she was almost positive it would—she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel and sleep until she was awoken with a kiss from her true love, or—in simplest terms—she would sleep until Isaia kissed her.
By Flea and Fly…either I’m going to sleep forever, or Grandfather will die in his fury. Possibly both. Though Isaia was a man of honor, somehow she doubted a magic knight as her consort was what King Giuseppe had in mind.
Isaia furrowed his brow, and worry crept into his sea-green eyes.
Briar squinted up at him. Was it possible he even remotely returned her feelings, but kept them in check? He was in her retinue. He must have known her parents’ plans for her.
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?”
Briar almost winced at her title. Oh yes. I’m going to be stuck sleeping forever. Isaia was noble and forthright. If he felt anything for her, there would be signs. In the howling desert of any such indications, she had to conclude that her childhood friend felt only friendship for her.
But I’ll still have to explain it to him, unless I really do want to sleep forever. Won’t that be fun?
Briar grunted. “It’s nothing.” She screwed up her mouth, as if tasting something sour. There was no way she was going to talk to him about it tonight. She needed to prepare for that conversation. She’d have to talk to Delanna and her other ladies-in-waiting. They would know how to present the idea without drawing his disdain.
She sighed, which turned into a groan. “Fate must have laughed itself sick the day I was born.”
Isaia stopped caressing her shoulder. “If you can be sarcastic, I assume you are feeling better?”
“No. But I don’t have much choice.” She stretched her arms in front of her and groaned. “I have to apologize to Mother. I rather spitefully reminded everyone of my curse; she didn’t take it well.”
“You’re her only daughter,” Isaia said.
Briar sighed. “I had best go find her—and Father.”
He eased away from her and stood. “Not King Giuseppe?”
Briar snorted. “He can sleep with a bug in his ear. It would do him some good.” She also stood, brushing her dress free of cat hair and hay. “Thank you, Isaia, for finding me, and for letting me cry.”
He bowed slightly. “I am honored I could aid you.”
The barn cat rubbed against Briar again. Though she knew she should leave, she couldn’t help watching Isaia for an extra moment. Yep, he’s a heartache I’ll have to deal with later. She nodded and made herself start moving. “I’ll see you soon—give Valor a carrot for me!”
She didn’t hear him reply, but she didn’t let herself look back.
Briar sashayed down the stable aisle. Steady, he told himself as he watched her leave. His body rebelled, and he took a step after her. Irritably, he turned on his heels so he didn’t have to see her go.
He knew she was still upset. He could see it in the tilt of her chin and the set of her lips. But there was nothing he could do. Magic knights were esteemed, but they weren’t royalty, and he knew her family well enough to know that even the over-doting Prince Consort Filippo would not be impressed if he were to try and explain how exquisite and strong Briar was.
They’ll learn for themselves, but it is Briar who will pay for their temporary ignorance. Isaia frowned at himself for the disloyal thought. His affection for her was growing out of hand—but then it had never really been under his control from the start.
Sitting with her had just about killed him. She had no idea how lovely she was. His traitorous memory chose that moment to replay how soft and warm she was, and how right it felt to hold her close.
Isaia sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had to have better self-control. It would do Briar no good to have him wandering about like a lovesick sop. He left the stables, heading for the Magic Knight training grounds.
It was late. The sun had set, and training had finished hours ago. Surprisingly, Sir Roberto, Franco, and the Legendary Knight of the Mace—Sir Artemio—were there. They wore grim looks, and all three of the knights uneasily brushed the weapon of their choice.
“Good evening, Sir Isaia,” Sir Artemio said as he joined them in the flickering torchlight. Though Artemio’s weapon was the mace, he was tall and thin, like a willow. He had caused something of a stir when he had joined the Magic Knights of Sole, for he abdicated the title of duke to his brother to do so. He was just a few years younger than King Giuseppe, but he regularly defeated knights decades younger than him in practice sessions, wearing them to the ground.
Isaia bowed slightly.
Franco eyed him. “Everything alright?”
Isaia nodded. “What happened?”
Artemio smiled thinly. “I was visiting my family’s coastal property, and I happened to run into a dark mage.”
Isaia joined the others and brushed his hand against his sword.
“Unfortunately, nothing came of it. She couldn’t get a blow past my armor, but she fled before I could capture her.”
Isaia gripped his sword’s hilt so tightly it hurt his palm.
Roberto clasped his shoulder. “Easy, boy,” he said gruffly.
Artemio stared past Isaia, in the direction of the palace. “I was far from Ciane, but it is worrisome.”
“If we can get Princess Rosalinda to her eighteenth birthday, the curse will be diverted, won’t it?” Franco asked. “Can’t she be limited to her room?”
“To focus on the curse is shortsighted,” Artemio said. “Even if the princess turns eighteen without the curse striking her—something I think unlikely as the enchantress who modified her curse said it would still happen—I do not believe Carabosso will give up quite so easily.”
Roberto nodded. “We’ll have to be on our guard until he loses interest.”
Artemio nodded. “That is so,” he agreed. “Come—let us go inside. I will call for refreshments.”
The three knights turned to go inside, but Isaia lingered outside.
He squared his shoulders and tucked his chin. This was where he could help Briar. Though she may not know it—and even if she did, it was unlikely she would understand—she had everything: his heart, his sword, and his shield.
He would stand between her and whatever darkness wished to do her harm.
Chapter 5
The Magic Knights of Sole
Cruel, black eyes haunted Briar, chasing her no matter where she fled. Dark laughter echoed unnaturally, and she saw a flash of alabaster white skin before red magic filled her vision and clutched her throat.
She could neither breathe nor move. She couldn’t even cry for help!
Panic buzzed in her chest, and pain raked up a
nd down her body as the red magic crawled across her. A spindle lurked in the darkness. Briar was unwillingly dragged towards it, and against her will reached out for it.
Briar choked on her fear as she wrenched free from the dream and woke up. Her heart pounded so fast, it was difficult to breathe. She frantically flung aside the twisted bed linens and stood on shaking legs.
She wiped sweat from her forehead, and her heart finally began to slow its beating. The room felt stuffy and suffocating, so Briar stumbled towards a window and opened it. She leaned out into the cool air, taking comfort in the stars in the sky and the pin-pricks of torches posted up and down Ciane’s walls.
“It was just a nightmare,” she said.
Briar sagged against the wall and rubbed her face. She couldn’t recall ever meeting the man that plagued her nightmare—and with his pale skin and frighteningly dark eyes, he would have been hard to forget.
But Briar was almost certain it was Carabosso.
For a moment, her heartbeat threatened to spike again. The dream had been all too real. She wasn’t stupid. Briar knew what a spinning wheel spindle was, and she knew what it would do to her. Her body had not been under control when she reached for it.
Briar hugged herself and shivered. Is that how the curse will come true? It will seize control of my very body and force me to prick my finger?
The unsettling thought kept her up into the early hours of the morning, until she finally gave into exhaustion and fell asleep once again.
Briar hid in the shadows and sipped a cup of wine as she looked out at the splendor arrayed before her.
Another banquet—another celebration of her return. This time King Giuseppe’s party was attended by several foreign dignitaries—including Prince Johann from Erlauf, whom Briar dearly hoped would not recognize her.
It was a beautiful sight. The ladies wore dresses edged with dazzling trim and embroidery, and their gowns and jewels glittered in the candlelight. The men were more like shadows, wearing expensive dark doublets and coats of velvet and silk, and shiny black boots.
But as Briar gazed out at the crowd, she recognized that only nobles were in attendance. She didn’t see any representatives of the army or government—not even her grandfather’s advisors. Many Magic Knights of Sole were in attendance, but they were in an elite class of their own, and many of them were sons of nobility—it was expected.
Why is there such division? Briar sipped her wine as she pondered the question. She knew she would have to rejoin the crush of the crowd soon. Her parents were likely searching for her.
She had patched up her relationship with them, though things were still just as icy between King Giuseppe and herself. A week had passed, but her parents were still overly careful around her. Briar regretted the hesitation she saw in her mother’s eyes whenever she asked her something, but a part of her wanted to shout, You’re the one asking me to change! Why do you look at me as though I were the heartless villain?
Briar sighed and stepped back into the light. Immediately, her ladies-in-waiting joined her.
“I will take your goblet, Your Highness.” Velvet scooped the cup from Briar’s grasp.
Silk fussed with the netting that covered Briar’s braided hair. “It is a shame it is not in fashion to wear ones’ hair loose. You have such beautiful hair, and a natural color most women try to achieve with dyes!”
“Do you think you’re up for more dancing?” Delanna asked.
Briar cleared her throat. “As long as you don’t match me with that man who insinuated I should have stayed in the hen house.”
“Certainly not,” Jewel scoffed. “If that dreadful boy approaches any of us, we shall send him on his way!”
“We ought to introduce you to the legendary knights,” Delanna said. “They’re powerful enough in politics that others respect them, but they’re loyal to the crown, so they’ll be kind to you.”
“It would be an honor to meet them,” Briar admitted. Sir Roberto had told her so many stories of the legendary knights. To speak to one of them was such a thrilling suggestion that if King Giuseppe knew of her glee, he would surely frown at her.
“Very good,” Velvet said. “There are four of us, and four legendary knights. We’ll attempt to find them!”
“I suggest you circulate, Princess, lest someone pull you into their orbit,” Jewel advised.
Delanna stepped in front of a young lord who had insulted Briar at a previous party. As she moved past him, she made it a point not to look at him or apologize. “It won’t take long. We should have introduced you to the legendary knights days ago, but I’m afraid the frantic pace of your lessons has not given us the chance.”
“Thank you, Delanna.”
“Anything for you, Your Highness.”
“Delanna,” Silk called. “Are you coming?”
Delanna slipped after the other ladies-in-waiting.
Briar smiled as they bustled off and began to edge demurely through the crowd, nodding whenever anyone caught her gaze. She was going to follow Jewel’s advice and keep moving, but a conversation caught her ear.
“We’ve got no choice. We must see to our own security first.”
“But if we abandon the peasants, we’ll lose livestock and harvests.”
After skulking around the area, Briar traced the conversation to two older men. Both were splendidly dressed, though one was slightly stouter and wore kid gloves, and the other had a leathery complexion and looked like he spent hours in the sun.
“If the princess does not fall in love before the curse strikes, our entire country will be in an uproar, and livestock will be the least of our worries,” the man in kid gloves said.
“Surely Princess Alessia can declare a replacement heir in an orderly fashion,” the other man argued. “We’re not on the brink of a civil war, after all.”
Briar listened to the discussion with interest but masked her attention by watching the dancers.
“It would be the first break in the d’Avalas line in centuries,” the man in kid gloves said. “Who knows how the populace, how the Magic Knights would react to an heir that was not a d’Avalas.”
“So the Queen of Hearts was a d’Avalas—does it matter?” his companion asked. “The knights are attached to the crown. They will follow whoever is to rule after Princess Alessia, and you and I will be long dead before then.”
“The Magic Knights of Sole are attached to the crown?” Briar said, betraying her interest.
The two men jumped, their gazes turning guilty when they realized who was addressing them.
“Your Highness,” they murmured as they bowed to her.
“Forgive me for intruding on your conversation, but you two seem so wise in your analysis,” Briar said, choosing her words with enough care even begrudging King Giuseppe would approve. “But I thought the entire point of the Magic Knights was to remain independent and detached from the crown.”
The men exchanged glances. The one with the swarthy complexion answered her. “Historically that is true, Your Highness. However, over the past few generations, the Magic Knights have grown closer to the rulers.”
Briar frowned.
“It is a good thing, Your Highness,” the man in the kid gloves said.
“Indeed,” the other man said. “Why, at the king’s bidding, a group of knights rode south to check the border after a village was ransacked by two magic users.”
“What?” Briar hissed. She had thought that, with her coming to Ciane, the dark magic users would give up—or at least focus their attention on the capital. But instead they were attacking innocent people? The dark memory of her nightmare surfaced.
The expression of the man in kid gloves turned so sour, Briar suspected he would have happily strangled his companion. “It is nothing for you to worry over, Your Highness. We nobles know you are busy with your studies and should not be bothered with such unpleasantness.”
“What a load of bosh,” a new voice said.
Briar and the two
men turned, with no small amount of confusion, to greet a man with gray hair.
“Lord Orazio,” the other two men greeted with puzzled frowns.
The newcomer nodded to them, then bowed to Briar. “Your Highness.”
“You have been gone, Lord Orazio. You must have missed the session King Giuseppe held about the lovely Princess Rosalinda,” the swarthy fellow said.
“Yes, the session in which he instructed us to use tact with her,” the man in gloves said.
“Ridiculous.” Lord Orazio smoothed his goatee. “King Giuseppe is acting under the outmoded thought that young ladies are unable to function with mental aptitude.”
Again, Briar and the two men gaped at him. (Admittedly Briar’s slack jaw was more in surprise, while the men were likely moved by horror-tinged shock.)
“Lord Orazio,” the man in kid gloves growled.
Lord Orazio shrugged elegantly. “It is true. I’m ashamed to admit I thought similarly—and I would still, if not for my post.”
“Your post?” Briar asked.
“I am the Sole ambassador to Arcainia,” Lord Orazio said. “My time there with the two princesses of the royal family, in particular Fürstin Elise, has… altered my beliefs. I have returned here to celebrate your homecoming with the rest of the country, but in due time I will travel back to Arcainia.”
Briar intently studied Lord Orazio’s face, looking for any signs of mocking. He met her gaze with steady but slightly steely eyes. “I think, Lord Orazio, I would like to hear more about Arcainia.”
Lord Orazio bowed. “It would be my honor, Your Highness. If half the rumors I have heard of you are true, I think it is a country you would very much like.”
“Please forgive our intrusion, Your Highness.” Lady Delanna entered the conversation with a beautiful smile. “But one of the legendary knights has voiced a desire to meet you.”
“Thank you, Delanna. Lord Orazio, it has been a pleasure. Perhaps we could continue our conversation later? If you will excuse me, gentlemen.” Briar slightly inclined her head, then, arm-in-arm with Delanna, slipped away.
