The Princess Must Die (Storm Princess Saga Book 1)

by Jaymin Eve

  I find my seat, remaining at my table while the Storm Command forms a semi-circle behind me and along my sides. I watch the dancing and revelry unfold in front of me. It’s hard not to find it contagious, but at the same time, I can’t breathe properly. With every passing second I get closer to the battle in two day’s time.

  All of the guests leave me alone, even Jasper keeps his distance which is probably just as well—there’s no explanation I can give him that would make things better—but toward the end of the night, Sebastian’s mother approaches my table. She bows. “Princess.”

  “You’re Sahara Splendor,” I say.

  “I am.” She has the same eyes as Sebastian—a glistening silver-green. She’s curvy and graceful in a rose gold gown that swathes her shoulders and drapes across her hips. Her voice lilts as she talks, reminding me that the Splendor House is known for its beautiful singing voices.

  She looks directly at me, an unexpected intensity, as she says, “It’s a beautiful love story destined to end in tragedy, isn’t it?”

  I eye her with caution. Jordan and Sebastian are chatting happily with guests on the other side of the space that’s been cleared for dancing. They haven’t left each other’s sides. “There will be no tragedy here. I won’t allow it.”

  She rushes to speak. “No, I don’t mean my son and his lovely wife. I mean you and Commander Rath.”

  “What did you say?” Anger shoots through me like a hot iron slamming across my spine. I can’t control it. She’s approached me out of the blue and now she tells me that Baelen and I are some sort of tragedy unfolding like we’re here for everyone’s entertainment. I shoot to my feet. The air thumps. Thunder crashes across the courtyard. Time slows. The dancing and music slow and then stop, plunging us into heavy, angry silence.

  Sahara glances around, but she doesn’t seem surprised or worried. I’m the one who is shocked as I realize she’s checking that nobody’s moving.

  “I’m sorry to cause you grief, but I needed a way to ignite your thunder.” She spins back to me. “I’ve been speaking with Mai Reverie and I understand you can only slow time for a few minutes.”

  “Mai told you?” I’m incredulous and disbelieving. Mai wouldn’t tell anyone that secret unless she trusted them completely. And the only other two people I thought Mai trusted were her husband, Darian, and her advisor, Rebecca.

  Sahara ignores my question. “Which is why I’m going to speak plainly. Commander Rath is one of my son’s true friends—a loyal friendship that I refuse to forsake. But the Commander bound himself to you, vowing to love and protect you, and now you hold his life in your hands. Will you really not yield? Or will you kill him?”

  I glare at her. “You’re missing the third option: Will he kill me?”

  Her eyes widen. “But that’s not an option. He can’t kill you.”

  “Yes, he can—”

  “He bound himself to you. He can’t harm you. Not even to protect himself. Not even to defend himself against you.”

  Everything spins around me. My stomach lurches and my vision blurs. I stumble back against my chair, coming up hard against its edges. “But…”

  She studies me. It would be very hard for her to miss my shock right now; it’s slamming off me in waves. “You didn’t realize.” It’s a statement, not a question. “You thought that the deep magic from the Heartstone Protocols would override his oath and allow him to fight you?”

  “Yes!”

  Her eyes glisten and her Splendor heritage shines in them. “You hold the power now, Princess.”

  “I won’t kill him.”

  She stands straighter and her eyes light up with hope. “Then you’ll yield? Despite what you said before?”

  “No. I can’t do that either.” I grip the edge of the table to prevent myself from sliding beneath it. My knuckles burn white hot against the wood. “I know that makes no sense. But I have no choice. I have to win, but I can’t kill him.”

  She leans forward, assessing me, but it’s not a cold calculation, it’s a look as old as time, a female’s wisdom when she understands there are no good choices but a choice has to be made. “Then you need a solution—a solution that I can provide.”

  I jerk backward, not trusting her closeness. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I owe you an enormous debt and I see a way to repay it.” She leans back too, giving me space, and cautiously sweeps her hand out in a gesture at our surroundings. “Do you like the flowers?”

  I hadn’t noticed before, but I do now. Gladiolus flowers are scattered among the roses glistening on the ground, their gentle lavender petals mingling with the red rose petals. “Are you the reason for the flowers?”

  “Not just me. I condemned the way you were treated during the battle in the arena. It was abhorrent. Beyond belief. I went to Mai Reverie immediately to seek her council about what I could do to protect you. I knew there was very little I could do to defend you physically, but if I could unite the people in your favor then you would have their support. I suggested the flowers and Mai grew them herself, hundreds of them.”

  I want to thank her—I know I have to thank Mai and I will—but I still don’t know if I can trust Sahara.

  She says, “Then you saved my son’s life. I knew that no matter what trial the Elven Command chose to administer, Sebastian would choose to die rather than fight his friends. Especially because he thought he’d lost Jordan.” She pauses, sucking in her breath. “The only way I can repay you for saving his life is by saving a life that you… care about.”

  I zero in on her, choosing to ignore her comment about me caring about Baelen. I can’t acknowledge that to anyone. I can’t speak it aloud because then I’ll break down. I grip the table harder, not caring that the power of thunder gives me the strength to press so hard that splinters break off beneath my palms. I’m probably drawing blood but if I stop holding onto this table right now, I’ll lose my hold on my emotions. “Can you call off the battle? Can you make your father put a stop to it?”

  “No, I’m sorry, but… are you aware that I’m a healer?”

  When I shake my head, a jerky side-to-side motion, she says, “I’ve saved the lives of many beloved sons. And husbands. And lov—”

  I snap, cutting her off. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I don’t mind saying that I’m quite talented, especially in knowing which medicines to administer. Medicines aren’t spells of course, so they can be given to champions despite the protective spells.”

  She pulls a vial from the delicate rose-gold clutch she holds in her hands. The vial is small, the size of a thimble, and sparkles gold too. “This one slows the heartbeat so much that it looks like someone’s dead. All you have to do is nick them and they fall within moments. And this one… revives them.”

  The second vial is silver. She places both side by side on the table. She leans toward me, whispering, “Spin gold, shelter silver. He is worth more than both, yes?”

  I stare at the vials as her footsteps retreat. One vial to make it look like he’s dead. The other to wake him up when it’s all over… Is this actually possible? Could this be the solution I desperately need?

  When I look up again, she’s gone. Not wasting another moment, I scoop up the vials and hide them inside one of my gloves. I’m just in time before the dancers come alive around me again. Everything resumes as if nothing happened and Sahara Splendor doesn’t look back. She glides over to her son and gives him a hug, drawing Jordan into her embrace as well. The love between them is so strong that any suspicion I had about Sahara’s motives melts away.

  The celebration might be continuing around me as if nothing’s changed, but something has changed. Sahara Splendor just gave me hope. My first real hope that I can keep Baelen alive.

  21

  The next morning, there are no messages from the Elven Command about the final battle. I was expecting something already but Elise makes reassuring noises at me. “They’re bound to send word soon. In th
e meantime, we need to talk.”

  She drops us into a sound bubble at the breakfast table. She hasn’t touched her food and neither have I. Anxiety builds inside me with every passing minute that we don’t hear from the Command.

  I try not to look at the door for the thousandth time expecting a messenger to arrive. “What have you found out?”

  Her forehead crinkles. “There have only been five deaths in the past month. It’s actually the least in terms of averages. Of those, four were elderly and their passing was expected. The fifth was a female who had been ill for some time; also expected.”

  “None of the deaths were untimely?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Well…” I grasp at straws. “What about disappearances? Deaths that might have been covered up?”

  “I looked into those as well. There was one disappearance but the female was found safe and well.”

  “Then we’re no closer to figuring out the origins of the curse.” This is not the news that I need right now. I glance at the door again. I need to know about the final battle and I need to know who’s behind the curse. By the look of things, I’m not going to get either of those pieces of information any time soon.

  Elise prods at her plate. She’s been slowly turning her eggs into mush as we talked. “The only thing I can think is... no… it’s not likely…”

  “What Elise? I’ll take any information right now, even something unlikely.”

  She drops her fork. It clatters against the side of her plate but she’s too distracted to notice. “What if the death hasn’t happened yet?”

  “But… the final battle’s supposed to be tomorrow. That would mean someone has to die today.” I’m going to leap out of my skin now. If what she said is true then any minute now the curse could be completed and I have no way of knowing who is going to die so that I can stop it from happening. “The victim could be anyone.”

  She chews her lip, momentarily silent, her gaze flashing around the room. My Storm Command is used to Elise and I having private conversations—and they’d expect us to have even more in the lead up to the fight—so they don’t pay us any attention. “Actually… I can’t be sure but… I think such a terrible curse would have to stem from a connection with the storm.”

  “Then… someone in my Storm Command?” I stare at her, fear rising fast inside me. “Jordan? You?”

  Her voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t know, but we need to remain vigilant. I’ll send word to Jordan to keep a look out for anything suspicious and to be on her guard. I think you need a Storm Commander sooner rather than later. Did you have anyone in mind?”

  “Reisha Gild,” I say without hesitation.

  “Okay then, I’ll make that happen. In the meantime, stay calm. This is all just maybes. We don’t know any of this for certain.” She’s back to her usual calm self and I’m incredibly grateful for the way she balances me out. My emotions are going haywire. The threat of losing Baelen is already tearing me apart. I can’t lose anyone else close to me. Even ‘maybe’ is too much possibility for me.

  I spend the rest of the morning secretly watching over my Storm Command instead of them watching over me, keeping track of where each of them is at all times and whether any of them seems ill or different in any way. By the time we finish lunch, there’s still no word from the Elven Command and I’m way past edgy. The battle is supposed to be tomorrow. They didn’t take this long with any of the other trials.

  When it’s time to subdue the storm, I take off at a run to the Storm Vault, my ladies shooting concerned glances at me, but keeping pace around me. Even Elise rushes beside me, not speaking. She knows I can’t make conversation right now.

  Even without touching steel, I’m crackling at the edges. The lightning inside of me is being fed by my anxiety and it needs to find a way out or I’m going to explode.

  When we get there, I race through the inner rooms, but I pause before entering the Vault itself. “Elise, I need you to go back out there. You need to watch over my Command and make sure nothing happens to them.”

  “But, Princess… you need me here.”

  “I’m fine. I’m not in danger, but they are. I need to know they’re safe and you’re the only one who knows there’s a threat. Go. Please.”

  It’s clear she doesn’t want to leave me. Her entire life is built around protecting me, especially while I’m in the Storm Vault—she’s never left me while I’ve been subduing the storm. I say, “Please. I know you don’t want to leave me, but I need you to protect them.”

  She bows her head. “Yes, Princess. I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out as soon as I can.” I wait for her to leave and then I step into the Vault without another moment’s hesitation.

  Lightning leaps straight to me, giant threads of it twisting around my torso and legs, hugging me close. There’s a hurricane brewing in the center of the room, the biggest I’ve ever seen. I step into it willingly and for the first time ever the wind can’t pick me up. The whirlwind blows from the right so I push back at it, both hands up at my side. It beats at me, whipping my hair across my face, but I don’t lose my footing, leaning into the wind. In fact, the pressure against my body soothes my frayed nerves as I push through, one step after the other, grateful for the release of energy inside me. Finally, I make it to the quiet center, but I pause before stepping out of the hurricane, not ready to face the silence yet.

  Thunder booms overhead so loud it makes my bones rattle. I turn my back to the pounding wind and tilt my palms up, allowing lightning to trickle upward, wispy like smoke. The wind quickly rips it away. I listen carefully to the storm, hoping to hear it speak. It had tried so hard to say something to me yesterday.

  Today, it remains silent.

  I step into the quiet center, tilt my head back, and close my eyes, waiting for the rain. It doesn’t come. Too soon, the hurricane begins to die down, the wind faltering like the rain did yesterday.

  “What’s wrong, Storm?”

  I wait, listening, but it doesn’t answer. Maybe there’s nothing wrong. Maybe I’m just getting stronger and that means I’m subduing it faster. I’m about to turn away from the quiet center and head through the dying hurricane again, when light suddenly streaks from above me, striking through the hurricane’s core. At the same time, the hurricane springs back into life.

  A scream fills the air around me. It’s the Storm’s voice, shrieking like a wailing banshee: He’s here! He’s here and I can speak!

  I crouch into a defensive position, ready for anything. “Who’s here?”

  A wind tunnel splits off from the hurricane, the hissing sound forming the storm’s voice. It’s not me! It’s not my fault!

  That’s what it said yesterday, but I have no idea what it’s talking about. I shout back at it, “Stop speaking to me in riddles!”

  The wind tunnel whips around me, spinning from one spot to another. Somehow it avoids colliding with me while it says: I couldn’t see it before. I can only escape the Storm Vault when there’s a natural storm outside and even then, only a very small part of me can escape. I finally saw it two night’s ago, but I couldn’t tell you. I tried so hard, but I can only speak when he’s here.

  A fine mist of rain washes across my face and drips to the floor where I think my jaw is located right about now. That’s the most the Storm has ever spoken to me. Much of what it said doesn’t make sense, but the fact that it’s talking to me in sentences is, well, unexpected would be an understatement.

  “There was a rain shower two night’s ago,” I say, latching onto the only thing the storm said that makes sense.

  A tiny part of me escaped and I saw her. She’s dying! She’s being killed for the curse.

  Fear shoots through me like electricity, a thousand bolts of it. “Who’s dying? Tell me!”

  The reverent one. The one before you. But it’s not my fault. I didn’t do it! I wanted to warn you, but I couldn’t speak…

  Mai Rev
erie is dying!

  I’m already running, pulling as much of the storm’s power to me as I race to the side of the Vault and yank open the door. I’ll need as much of the storm to fight whatever’s hurting Mai.

  I’m so afraid for her that I make it halfway through the ante-room before I see Baelen. I never expected to see him in this place again.

  I skid to a halt, my boots squeaking. I’m braced and uncertain. He’s locked in a fighting stance, eyes closed, and there’s no mistaking the ribbons of heartstone light curling around his shoulders and neck. He shudders, shaking open his eyes, finally focusing on me.

  Suddenly something the storm said becomes frighteningly clear: I can only speak when he’s here.

  The first time the storm ever spoke to me to warn me about the curse was the very first time Baelen Rath stepped into the ante-room to offer me his heartstone. That was also the first time it spoke to Mai. The second time it spoke to me, he was waiting for me before the first trial. He wasn’t here yesterday when it couldn’t speak, but now he is.

  He shakes his head again, releasing his body from its locked stance, clears his throat, and focuses on a point past my shoulder. “I’m only here as part of my duties as Commander of the Elven Army. I need to report—”

  “There’s no time.” Whatever he was going to tell me, it’s nothing compared to the urgency of saving my friend. I can’t even allow myself a small moment of wishing he’d come to see me for any reason other than duty. “I have to go. I’m sorry, Bae.”

  His focus zooms in on me for the split second it takes me to reach the next door.

  “Wait, Marbella.”

  The shock of hearing him say my name freezes me for long enough for him to stride to my side. Concern radiates from him in waves so strong that they hit me square in the heart. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  For a moment I pretend that the last few days never happened, that I’m not going to fight him tomorrow. This is Bae whom I trust with my life. “Mai Reverie’s in danger. I can’t explain. I have to go to her right away.”