Kiss of the Royal

by Lindsey Duga

  “With this sacred flora, I bind Princess Ivy of the Great House of Myriana and Prince Zachariah of the House of Jindor together as Royal Partners serving in the Holy Sisters’ names. With this contract, the partners accept each other’s burdens and share each other’s magic, growing stronger and more powerful with every shared Kiss.” Master Gelloren tightened the ivy around our hands, and Zach’s fingers twitched against mine.

  My mother sat at the Council table, watching the small ceremony with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

  “Illye holiend miyan oshantu.” At the partners’ spell words, the ivy burst into purple flames, singeing our hands and wrists.

  Amid the purple flames, it felt like an invisible quill was etching each other’s marks onto our skin. It burned and stung, but still, we didn’t let go. If anything, we held on tighter as the clean spell lines were drawn.

  A crown of holly and garlands of ivy curled magically around the back of Zach’s hand and down his wrist. It ended at the base of his palm, like all the other Marks of Myriana. Zach’s mark was a bracelet of branches ending on the back of my hand in elegant stag antlers.

  Zach ripped his hand from mine as soon as the flames disappeared, his face flushed.

  I wished he hadn’t, though. Princes who had partners before knew that once the partnership ritual had been completed, the princess would be weakened by taking on the Sense of the prince, like a wraith was standing on her shoulders. The words “the partners accept each other’s burdens” was quite literal when it came to princesses.

  Perhaps if I hadn’t suffered from blood loss earlier in the evening, I would’ve been able to stay standing. But the burden of Zach’s Sense hit me full force, and I crumpled to the floor.

  “Hey—” Zach dropped to one knee and grabbed my shoulders. “Ivy, are you okay?”

  Embarrassed, I tried to pull away, but he held tight. “I’m fine—this is normal.”

  Zach’s brow furrowed. “Normal? Why don’t I feel it, too?”

  I looked past Zach’s worried face to Gelloren. The Master Mage just raised his eyebrows. “Never had a partner, indeed,” he muttered.

  “I took your Sense,” I explained. “So you don’t have to worry about it while fighting.”

  Zach squeezed my shoulders. “What?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

  I was surprised at his intensity and placed my hand on his bent knee. “It’s okay. That’s what princesses do for their princes.”

  Zach glanced at my hand that bore his mark and quickly stood. “That’s not what I signed up for,” he said, glaring at the Council, then at Weldan, perhaps angry at his friend for not fully explaining the terms of the partnership bond.

  The Commander looked out the window, avoiding Zach’s angry gaze.

  Zach walked to a candelabrum by the door and aimed a swift kick at it. Metal clashed to the ground, the candles rolling across the floor now void of flames. “No one told me giving her my mark meant she’d be stealing my Sense!” he shouted, then flung the door open and left.

  Silence followed his exit. The Council members looked to Weldan, as if expecting an explanation. Weldan kept his gaze trained out the window.

  I got to my feet, now steady, and nodded to Gelloren, an indication that we could proceed. Though I was more than a little surprised at Zach’s outburst, I could also understand it—he’d just lost a natural part of himself without consent. But there was little I could do about it now that there was no way of giving his Sense back—until our partnership bond was severed through either ritual or death.

  The finality of that thought struck me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. We were partners now. Zach was my sixth prince. While I was both excited at the prospect of having a powerful warrior as a partner, I was also completely terrified. What if I lost him, too? I didn’t think I’d be able to handle that. And more, what if I returned to Myria a failure? With no prince, and the dragon hatched, coming to destroy us all.

  It wouldn’t matter then if I didn’t return with Zach. We’d all be gone soon, anyway. Flecks in a sea of ashes.

  Gelloren turned to my mother and shook out his sleeves, letting them fall over his hands. “Queen Dahlia, what news do you bring us?”

  My mother looked away from me. “The eastern kingdom of Raed requires an investigation in their forests. They had a sighting of the Wicked Queen.”

  When had the Council of Freida given Queen Dahlia approval to seek out the Wicked Queen? It must have been more than a few months ago, since she had been to Raed, as well.

  Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dahlia’s thoughts had always been consumed with the legend about the Mother of the Forces. She was obsessed with her for reasons my sisters and I never tried to understand. They were the only real conversations. “Someday, child, I will find the soulless old crone. I will find her and tear her apart. I will see where her power comes from, and we will finally end this wretched war.”

  Mother would often look down at me through curtains of her dark hair if I failed at a spell or combat move, and whisper words dripping with disdain. “Useless child. Pray the dwarves don’t steal you away. Though it might save me the trouble of worrying about whether you’ll live or die.” Sometimes they were just musings she would voice out loud. “I wonder if the Holy Queen ever felt responsible for giving birth to a daughter so weak she allowed herself to be turned into a walking demon.” But often they would make her sound somewhat unhinged.

  It was hard to differentiate my childhood memories of her from my nightmares.

  Seeing her there sitting among the Council, next to her father, talking about the Evil Queen, I remembered Brom’s words the other day. Was I going after the dragon just to prove my worth to my mother?

  The meeting ended, and I barely noticed. Gelloren stopped both Weldan and me from leaving and requested we meet with Zach to review the details of the journey to the egg. Weldan promised to drag Zach to the strategy room after lunch tomorrow, since we were supposed to leave the very next day after that.

  Mother didn’t look at me again. This time, I welcomed her dismissal. I had a new partner, more skilled than the others before him. It was time to shed the doubts she piled on me and finally prove her wrong.

  …

  The next morning, Brom told me she had left at dawn.

  I opened the door wider, and Brom entered my room, shutting the door quietly behind him. I walked to the wall where my tapestry hung and sat on the floor, holding my knees.

  Outside, a thunderstorm raged. Lightning flashed outside my window, and thunder shook the castle like an earthquake.

  I didn’t mind the sound of the rain. It had a calming effect. Part of me was relieved she was gone, but the larger part still ached, knowing how little she cared. How little she even wanted to see me.

  Brom sat beside me, and I leaned my head on his skinny shoulder.

  It had been our ritual as children. Every time my mother would break me, Brom would be there, offering me his silent, supportive presence. Every time Brom would grow homesick for his parents who had died the day before he became my page, I would be there, offering my warm, gentle hand.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said.

  I smiled against his shoulder. I didn’t have to ask what he meant.

  I knew, and he knew I knew.

  Chapter

  Ten

  Preparations

  “Your wounds have healed nicely from the battle, milady,” Ulfia said as she brushed her fingers across the pink skin on my thigh where the gash had been. “As expected of your Kiss.”

  I only nodded—I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but nerves for our departure tomorrow. After I’d finished packing, I lingered in my room until Brom had persuaded—forced—me to visit Ulfia to check on my wounds just in case.

  “I’ve got some salve for that bruise,” Ulfia said, eyeing the purple mark on my cheek, courtesy of my mother.

  “It’s fine. Don’t trouble yourself,” I tried to protest as she glid
ed to the cabinet.

  Ulfia’s salves worked wonders but always smelled abhorrent. Nine times out of ten, Kisses healed most wounds, but the magic wasn’t always perfect. Sometimes they required a little help and a little time. Like the locking curse that had plagued me, they could take weeks, sometimes months, to fully disappear.

  “Nonsense.” She rummaged in the cabinet for a while, as I stared out the window and tried not to think about Kellian being in the Curse Ward next to me.

  “Found it!”

  “I’ll take that,” someone cut in.

  At the new voice, I tore my gaze from the window.

  Zach stood in the doorway, holding the jar of salve.

  My nerves doubled at his sudden appearance, and I jerked down the hem of my dress to cover my exposed thigh.

  “Oh, but—” Ulfia began, and Zach produced one of his disarming smiles.

  “I’m her partner now. I’ve got to get used to doing things like this, right?”

  While I glared at Zach, Ulfia pursed her lips and left the room, even though no one had asked her to.

  “How’d you find me? Bribe another servant?”

  Zach ignored me, unscrewing the lid on the jar then dipping his fingers into the mint, shassa root salve. “Tilt your head.”

  I didn’t. I just stared at him. “I can put on my own salve.”

  “Difficult to do without a mirror. Move your hair.” When I still didn’t budge, he added, “Please.”

  Sighing, I brushed the wisps of curls away from my cheek. At the touch of his fingertips coated with the salve, I almost shivered—because the salve was cold.

  This close, I could see my mark on his hand. His sleeve covered most of it, but the pattern of ivy peeked out on his wrist.

  He rubbed the salve on more gently than I thought possible, given how tender the bruise was. I thought briefly about asking for a Kiss to heal it, but yesterday he refused to give me a Kiss to heal a bloody gash, so I doubted he’d give it up to heal a bruise.

  “You should’ve told me.”

  “What?” I finally looked at his face. I was right: underneath the beard he had a faint scar on his jaw and another on his cheek. A thousand colors speckled his hazel eyes.

  “About you taking the Sense,” he clarified, carefully setting down the salve on the bedside table. “I would’ve never… It’s not fair that you…”

  “Is it my responsibility to tell you things you should already know?”

  He made a tch sound with his tongue.

  “It’s what’s done,” I said. “You’ll thank me later.”

  “I won’t.”

  Zach placed both his hands on either side of me. With him so close I had to lean back to avoid the touch of his forehead. He lowered his gaze to my legs, and his hand hovered over my thigh, right where the gash had been. The air was tight between us, as his gaze went from my legs to focus on my face, lingering on the bruise that still stained my cheek.

  “I’m worried.” He lifted my hand that bore his mark and traced the stag’s antlers with his thumb. “Without my Sense, I’m going to be fighting blind.”

  My heartbeat was racing, and I feared he could hear it, or feel my pulse in the wrist he held. “You have me for that now,” I said softly.

  “Goodness, are we intruding?”

  I peered around Zach’s shoulder to find Master Gelloren and Amias—of all people—standing there.

  Zach quickly moved away, and in three strides he was out of the room. Amias glared at me, then at Zach retreating down the hall. His face reddened, and he, too, walked away.

  Gelloren tilted his head, a small grin almost hidden underneath his whiskers. “Popular today, aren’t you?”

  “What did Amias want?” I asked.

  “I believe he’d heard about your partnership with Zach. But perhaps he wanted to appeal to your…er…non-warrior side.”

  I folded my arms, scowling. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have one.”

  Gelloren wisely didn’t comment. He strode forward and inspected the bruise Zach had finished rubbing salve on. “About your mother… She’s harsh only because she cares.”

  No, a small voice spoke inside me, she has never cared. Never about me.

  “You know, Ivy, we wouldn’t have told you about the dragon if we didn’t think you could beat it.”

  I stared at Master Gelloren’s calm, familiar face. In many ways, he felt like more of a grandfather to me than King Helios ever did. “I know.”

  “And now with Zach… Well, let’s just say that after seeing him fight, I feel much better letting you go.”

  I nodded.

  Master Gelloren dug into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small silver compact, with intricate designs of flowers and ivy—appropriate. Touching it made my fingers tingle.

  I popped it open and gasped. “A magic mirror.”

  Magic mirrors were rare and powerful. It took a lot of work and effort for a mage to create one, but once made they could be used for many things. They could show anything your heart wanted to see, act as a communication portal, show scenes and memories from the past, and sometimes witches and mages trapped spirits and magical creatures within the glass.

  “It’s so we don’t lose contact,” Master Gelloren said. “You can talk to me anytime.”

  “Thank you, Master.” I closed the compact, the silver grooves of ivy pressing into my palm.

  …

  After lunch, I met with Weldan in one of the strategy rooms we used for war planning. It had everything we needed, namely, maps. Maps of all the roads throughout Myria, way up into the Galedral Forest, maps of the Fields of Galliore, and the islands in the Seas of Glyll, and the best routes to take to get to Raed, Freida, and Saevall.

  Zach was late. This seemed to be a habit for him.

  While hunched over a map of the Galedral Forest, I glared at the door. “Is he even coming?”

  “He’ll be here,” Weldan assured me, passing me a sanded stone to hold down the other corner of the paper that kept curling over my fingers. “But listen, Ivy, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Zach comes off as irresponsible and hardheaded and rather…tactless, but he’s a good man.”

  I remembered a similar conversation from the first day we’d met, at breakfast. “So you’ve told me.”

  “Yes, well—”

  The door banged open, and Zach strode in. “Couldn’t find the bloody room,” he said, before either Weldan or I had a chance to question him.

  Zach studied the map I was looking at over my shoulder. “Why do we have to do this anyway? Don’t you know the way, Ivy?”

  “Not by heart,” I said with a frown. “I’ll need a map until we get to the mountains. Then I’ll be close enough to use my Sense to guide us to the egg.”

  The map was suddenly ripped out from under my nose. “Are you saying that if I still had my Sense I’d be able to find this dragon myself?” Zach’s voice was dangerously low.

  Weldan sighed. “Zach—”

  He threw up a hand to silence the Commander then glared at me, waiting for my answer.

  Still remembering his reaction upon learning about his stolen Sense, I chose my words carefully. “You could’ve. But it would’ve taken you much longer. Now that I’ve absorbed yours, I’ll be more sensitive to it, and we’ll find the dragon’s egg faster.”

  Zach tossed the map back onto the table, grumbling to himself.

  “You would’ve known this if you’d ever had a partner,” I said under my breath.

  Zach walked over to the other side of the table and sat down in one of the large armchairs. “Never really needed one.”

  “You’re so arrogant.”

  “Pot calling the kettle black, Highness.”

  I almost chucked a paperweight at his head. “At least I don’t try to fight without a Kiss.” Then a thought struck me—a thought so ludicrous it hadn’t occurred to me before now. “Does this mean you’ve never been Kissed?”

  Zach chuckled
and kicked up his boots onto the table. “Oh, I didn’t say that.”

  “Enough,” Weldan snapped, pulling out another map of the surrounding villages. “Let’s focus, shall we?”

  I scowled at Zach, and he smirked right back.

  Yes, Prince Weldan, tactless indeed.

  …

  Though it was late spring, the dark morning was cold enough to see our breath as we saddled our horses. The stables smelled of fresh hay and oranges.

  Zach was already prepared. He had his steed—a deep chocolate horse I heard him call Vel—saddled, fed, and laden with packs from the cooks. Weldan stood with him, and they talked in low voices. Though I desperately wanted to hear what they were saying, I busied myself with checking my gear and prepping my own treasured horse, Lorena.

  After rubbing down her dappled gray coat, I turned to Bromley. “All ready?”

  “Yes, milady,” Bromley said, dressed finely in the dark green cloak I’d given him for his fourteenth birthday.

  We took our horses by the reins and led them up to the front of the stables, joining Zach and Weldan.

  “Good morning, Princess Ivy,” Weldan greeted warmly.

  “Good morning, Commander Weldan. Thank you for seeing us off.”

  He gave a nod. “Of course. I wish you the best of luck, and please be careful.”

  “Thank you, Commander. We’ll be careful.”

  It was then Zach noticed Bromley, and he grinned widely. “Ivy’s page is joining as well, then? What’s your name?”

  “Bromley, sir.”

  “Let’s see your weapon, Bromley.”

  While Zach went to inspect Bromley’s crossbow, Weldan pulled me aside.

  “Remember what I said. Zach is a good man. He’d never let anything happen to you. You have to believe that.” The way Weldan focused on me, his light eyes seemed to have been carved from stone.

  I frowned. “It’s not really me I’m worried about. We have a mission—”

  “Ivy.” A hand grabbed my upper arm, tugging me back.