A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  “I’m fine,” I reassured him quietly. He seemed unconvinced but didn’t press.

  “I see you fared no better than us,” Alec observed cheerfully as he and his sister approached empty-handed.

  “I seem to have lost my drive for the hunt today,” I confessed, climbing back into the saddle. “I think I will return to camp.”

  “I’ll accompany you,” Adrian offered quickly.

  “It’s nearly the lunch hour. We should all head back for a respite.” Natalia decided the matter for us all and we followed her lead back out of the forest. When we emerged from the trees, I noted the arrival of a dozen wagons and many more servants since our departure. Additional comforts had been provided for the participants, including a long tent under which tables and chairs had been laboriously arranged. Trays of food crowded every surface, crystal and silver glinting in the midday sun. At the edge of the forest, a few successful hunters cleaned their kills, the carcasses strung from tree limbs.

  It was nearly an hour before the King and Queen returned with their retinue of huntsmen and hounds. One such led his horse, a buck slung over the saddle. Cheers of congratulations rang out, and a close was called to the hunt. Horns sounded, and gradually the remaining participants returned to the camp. At my mother’s urging, I approached King Amenon as he dismounted and a crowd gathered to examine his prize. A twinge of sadness struck me as I looked over the stag, but I felt a bit better when I saw the arrow had struck cleanly to his heart. I caught the King’s eye as he approached and he favored me with a smile.

  “A fine shot, Your Majesty.” I curtsied politely.

  “Your father tells me you’ve some skill with a bow yourself. How did you fare?” he asked cheerfully as he untied his kill from the saddle.

  “I’m afraid we came out empty-handed today, sire.”

  “Pity.”

  “Perhaps,” I replied thoughtfully, the great stag’s golden eyes still haunting my mind. “I’d like to think I can hit my mark when it matters. Maybe today it didn’t.”

  He paused a moment to consider me, his hands stilling on the ropes. I thought he might say something more, but a pair of solicitous huntsmen shuffled between us to pull the buck from the saddle. King Amenon followed behind as they hauled it away for cleaning.

  Lunch was a muted affair, full of mingling and small talk. After the encounter with the Fey Beast, it all felt terribly inane. I was glad when the announcement was made to return to the city. The King and Queen led the procession, the servants left behind to pack all the various accoutrements of the day and follow later. At the city gates, common folk waited to glimpse their monarchs, eager for the spectacle. Picturesque at the head of the parade, they tossed flowers and copper coins to the crowd as we passed, their contingent of King’s Guard maintaining a careful perimeter. Quintin hovered close on my left, scowling and eying the throng suspiciously. On my right, Adrian smiled and basked in the warm afternoon sun.

  We split from the procession to make our way back to the manor. I was glad to be free of the interminably slow pace and the crush of bodies. I unsaddled Valor myself before making my way inside to change. Shera scrambled to fill the ewer and help me refresh my appearance. The woolen hunting gown was discarded, replaced by an elegant silk dress in a deep blue, more reinforcement of my loyalty to my future husband in the face of upcoming public scrutiny. A recent commission, it had been designed for this particular occasion. The silk lay sleek and fitted through the bodice, flaring to pooling lengths below my hips. Though slightly less scandalous than the lace version that had inspired it, the gown swooped loosely at my lower back in an ingenious drape of fabric. After some grumbling about undoing her earlier handiwork, Shera tidied my long sable locks into a luxurious cascade that covered much of my otherwise exposed back.

  We both admired her handiwork with joint satisfaction. “What would I do without you?” I asked her amicably. She shrugged, smiled, and kissed my cheek before sending me downstairs.

  As usual, Quintin was already waiting, glancing up as I made my way down the steps toward him. His familiar mask of detached neutrality faltered, a glimpse of surprise slipping out to join his constant air of disapproval. I suddenly worried I’d made an error in judgment, and wondered if there was enough time to change into something more conservative.

  “What?” I pressed him defensively.

  He shook his head and averted his eyes. “It suits you.” I couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as a barb at my immodesty or a genuine compliment, so I held my tongue. My mother joined us shortly, and we headed for the castle, Quintin and Gabe flanking the carriage on horseback. We parted from them at the castle entrance, my blue-eyed guardian sparing me a quick glance before following his counterpart to the servants’ quarters to wait with the other armsmen.

  Mother and I were announced and escorted into the ballroom by a decorous doorman in royal livery. Aubrey greeted us almost immediately, showering thanks on her for allowing me to accompany him to Atenas. Augustus ambled up shortly thereafter, kissing her hand and inviting her to join him for the evening. She smiled at his too-small vest and agreed wholeheartedly. We all knew I was already spoken for. Aubrey kept me company while I waited for the Van Dryn party to arrive.

  “We missed you this morning,” I offered affectionately.

  “I’ve no stomach for blood sport,” he replied, mouth twisted with distaste.

  “Anything interesting?” I prompted as he deposited a glass of Eradine red into my hand.

  “A few items of note.” He swung around beside me and we scanned the room together. “A delegation arrived just yesterday from Hydrax. Your betrothed may want to steer clear. Another is due next month from Persica.”

  I stiffened in alarm. “From Persica?”

  He waved off my concern. “To congratulate the King on his new queen, and likely their expected firstborn.” We would be long gone in Atenas by then. I felt an unsettling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Anything else?” I pressed half-heartedly.

  Aubrey eyed me with his excited, mischievous grin, the one he got when he knew some juicy bit of gossip I didn’t. “It is rumored the Princess Selice wears a white gown tonight.”

  I gaped at him. “Tonight?”

  He raised his glass and his eyebrows at me. “Tonight.”

  That was, indeed, an item of note. Amenon’s only child was the subject of much mystery and speculation. Rarely seen, even at public events, the members of the Court could only guess at what the future held for the young Princess. Now that she was sixteen, he was about to debut her to society. It was abrupt and unexpected, to say the least.

  “Poor girl,” I murmured.

  Aubrey eyed me. “How do you mean?”

  “If what we all think will happen tonight, happens…” I paused sadly, shaking my head. “Then the first real exposure to society this girl has ever had will be instantly overshadowed. She will be introduced to the Court, and then immediately undermined as her rank as Heir Apparent is snatched away.”

  “You assume it’s a boy,” he pointed out.

  “As will everyone.”

  He paused, considering my words. “Poor girl,” he agreed, tossing back the remainder of his glass. “I see you’ve set your mind to something this evening.” He nodded pointedly at me.

  I smirked and raised my chin indignantly. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you mean.”

  “Mm. And I’m sure you just dusted that gown off from some forgotten corner of your wardrobe,” he commented sardonically. I chose not to dignify him with a reply. He pressed on regardless. “You’ve already won the prize, my dear. No need to rub it in.”

  “I’m doing no such thing,” I protested.

  He waved his glass at the crowd before us. “There are plenty of eligible young noblewomen here who would beg to differ.”

  “I see you’ve begun without me,” crooned a familiar voice nearby. I turned to see Adrian’s tempest eyes watching us with amusement. In the midst of our gossiping, I’d not
even heard the announcement of their arrival.

  “Speaking of which….” Aubrey greeted him politely. “I’ll leave you in good hands,” he kissed my cheek and disappeared with a wink into the crowd.

  “I suppose I don’t need to tell you how you look this evening,” he commented as I turned my attention to him.

  “Utterly shameless, I’ve been told.”

  He smiled, lowering his lips to mine. “A complete scandal.”

  It drew a few whispers from nearby, but they didn’t matter. Better they should gossip about our lack of decorum than whisper lies about my upcoming sojourn with Aubrey. We chatted politely with a few familiar faces until the King and Queen arrived. The entire room turned to bow and curtsy deeply as they materialized atop the entryway staircase, trumpets heralding their arrival. They descended into the ballroom and I watched as a small young woman emerged from the same entryway.

  “Presenting her Royal Highness, the Princess Selice fen Audilil.” The herald’s sonorous voice bellowed into the massive crowd. We all made our obeisance once again as she glided down the steps. Escorted by the captain of her guard, they made for a pretty picture: she, in flowing, ethereal white, he in his crisp white uniform with gold trim. Her pale gold locks fell nearly to her waist in a cascade of loose curls. She looked young to my eyes, but despite her nervous appearance, she carried herself straight and tall. They quickly disappeared from my sight, surrounded by a press of nobles eager to curry favor.

  Those of us with more dignity hung back and let the vultures swarm. With the parting of the crowd, I noticed a group I’d missed in my earlier sweep of the room with Aubrey: a cluster of olive-skinned men in laboriously ornate garb of garish colors. Straining my ears, I could hear them speaking a strange, heavily-accented dialect. They watched the throng of nobles with poorly-concealed distaste.

  I was glad for Selice’s sake when the feast was called and everyone’s attention shifted. The King and Queen raised glasses at the head of the heavily-laden table, toasting the equinox and the successful hunt, and welcoming the group I had rightly guessed was the political delegation from Hydrax. They bowed graciously, careful masks of deference securely in place.

  “And now,” King Amenon added, sliding one arm affectionately about Queen Rishel’s waist. “It is with great pleasure that we announce the impending arrival of our firstborn.” A cheer arose, accompanied by thunderous applause as the monarchs shared a sweet kiss. I glanced at Selice, standing nearby and clapping politely. I was too far to read her face, but her posture suggested she had known this announcement would accompany her debut.

  We feasted, then, and I did my best to employ my mother’s teachings and observe rather than lose myself in Adrian’s company. He noticed and didn’t press me, chatting animatedly with his siblings instead. My mother, seated to my other side, put me to shame. Where I had to focus to maintain both a keen alertness and a convincing countenance, she navigated effortlessly. Even I wouldn’t have known she was engaged in anything more than conversation if she hadn’t stiffened ever so slightly at the Hydraxian emissary’s mention of the soon-to-be-expected Persican delegation.

  “Perhaps,” he was entreating Lord Augustus in his heavy accent. “You might assist us in arranging a joint conference with His Majesty to discuss a more mutually beneficial alliance between our great nations.”

  Aubrey’s father creased his brow, already well into his wine for the evening. “Yes, yes,” he agreed hastily, focused on his venison. “I will speak to him.” I saw the flash of anger in my mother’s eyes before she returned politely to her conversation, the lapse in her demeanor vanishing. It set me on edge for the remainder of the meal.

  “May I have you back now?” Adrian’s patient voice murmured in my ear as we made our way back into the ballroom.

  I offered him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, I’ve been distracted.”

  He raised his brows at me. “Yes, I noticed.”

  Eying the cluster of garishly-bedecked foreigners, I slipped my hand onto his arm and lowered my voice. “It’s the delegation,” I confessed quietly. “I don’t entirely trust their intentions here.”

  That made him laugh. “Surely not! In my experience, there’s little in the world less trustworthy than a politician.” When I opened my mouth to press the matter, he cut me off. “We can speculate all we want on the way to Venici. Tonight,” he tucked an errant lock of my hair behind one ear. “I’d like to enjoy an evening with my future wife.”

  We danced and chatted with numerous others, making a good show of unity and accepting the various congratulations on our engagement. Adrian was fielding one such barrage of niceties when a flash of white caught my eye across the packed hall. Princess Selice stood to one side of the room, talking quietly with her escort, but otherwise entirely alone. As I had anticipated, she had been dismissed just as quickly as she had been swarmed by the Court, in light of the announcement of her impending sibling. I touched Adrian’s arm and he followed my gaze, giving me a surreptitious nod before returning to the conversation. Excusing myself quietly, I slipped through the crowd in a roundabout route to come up on her left.

  “Pardon me, Your Highness,” I curtsied low to her as she turned toward me. Her neatly pressed captain stiffened.

  She said nothing, simply watched me and waited.

  “Forgive me,” I stumbled, straightening. Her eyes! Gods, her eyes! Her father’s amber ones paled in comparison. They nearly glowed, sunlight and wheat fields swirling in her irises, a startling echo of my encounter in the Kingswood. I was hard-pressed to collect my wits. “I wanted to congratulate you on your debut,” I managed to force out.

  “Thank you,” she replied in a cool tone.

  “I wondered if you would care to join my fiancé and I for a glass of wine.”

  She smiled prettily, but it didn’t reach her remarkable eyes. “Thank you, no.” That was all. Nothing more. The two of them simply stared at me, waiting for me to disappear. I’d never failed so spectacularly in my life. Bobbing a polite curtsy, I excused myself and stumbled into my mother on my way back through the crowd.

  “Are you alright?” she whispered, reading my face.

  I glanced back in the direction of the Princess. “I am not the company she wishes to keep at the moment, apparently.”

  “Ah,” she rubbed my arm reassuringly, eyeing Selice across the room. “Don’t take it to heart, my dear. She’s not had much experience in this arena.” I watched her shake her head slowly, a strange expression on her face. “She looks so much like her mother.” She turned back to me, giving my arm a bracing squeeze. “Go. Don’t let it ruin your evening. This is your last night at Court for a long while.”

  I found Adrian deep in conversation with a few lesser nobles from House Guillar. They were gesturing animatedly as they described some complex architectural detail of note. I didn’t care enough to engage. Gray eyes turned to greet me as I returned in defeat. “I tried,” I mumbled to him.

  He wrapped one arm about my waist, a gesture to comfort. “Perhaps a dance would take your mind off it?” A large assembly of players had been filling the hall with lively music all evening. The tune shifted and dozens of bedecked nobles waltzed across the floor around us.

  We fit well together. We always had. We didn’t bother with propriety. Let them stare. His hand slipped beneath the cascade of my hair to find the bare skin at the small of my back, pulling me close. Fingertips slipped just under the draped edges of the silk. I flushed beneath his touch, the heat of his body radiating through the slick silk of my gown. Needless to say, all other thoughts quickly evaporated. I luxuriated in his touch, in the audacious, reckless intimacy, barely kept under wraps in full view of the entire Court.

  “Come with me,” I whispered when I could bear it no longer. We measured our steps, making our way discreetly from the ballroom in search of some private corner. Finally, down several hallways and turns, we stumbled into a vacant study and locked the door. His mouth closed hungrily on mine, ha
nds holding my face captive, raking through my hair, gripping my neck. I tugged at his doublet, pulling him back toward the desk at the far end of the room. We crashed gracelessly into it, his hands finding my buttocks and lifting me onto to the table. Fingers buried in my hair, he kissed me long and deep. When he finally released me, we were both breathless.

  “Wait,” he paused, gathering himself. He met my gaze, his a roiling squall of desire and forbearance. “If this is too much...” he trailed off, words failing. He was afraid to push, knowing how the attack had traumatized me. There had been many times, over the previous months, when I had felt as fragile as a cracked mirror; thin skin holding the pieces together, ready to shatter at any moment. But not here, not now, with him. Strangely, I thought of Shera and what she had said to me the morning after. I held his gaze as I reached down and gathered my skirts, dragging them up my legs, slow and deliberate.

  “I am the heir of Lazerin.” I tugged the laces of his breeches loose. “And you cannot break me.”

  It was slow and fierce and sweet, a final redemption. Afterward, still fitted together, we gasped for air as the sounds of the evening’s festivities echoed in the distance.

  “Where have you been?” I whispered, breathless.

  He looked up to meet my eyes with a sated smile. “Waiting for you.”

  The carriage ride home was marked by my mother’s exceptionally distracted countenance. It was late, or early, but she was not one to overindulge and her distant mental state owed nothing to exhaustion. She was processing, evaluating, replaying the night’s covert observations in her mind. I was glad, for it meant she wouldn’t likely notice my slightly more disheveled state or Adrian’s scent on me. When we made our way into the foyer, Emmett was waiting to take our cloaks. Gabe and Quintin followed us through the door, all shuffling boots and rattling armaments.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” my mother intoned absentmindedly. “That will be all for this evening.”