by Kiera Cass
Dedication
For my punk brother, Gerad.
Who would carry me across the Serengeti.
Allegedly.
Map
From the
CHRONICLES OF COROAN HISTORY, BOOK I
And so, Coroans, preserve the law,
For if we undo one, we undo them all.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Map
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Kiera Cass
Back Ad
Copyright
About the Publisher
One
IT WAS THE TIME OF year when the sunrise still had frost on it. But winter was fading, and the flowers were starting to bloom, and the promise of a new season filled me with anticipation.
“I’ve been dreaming of spring,” I sighed, staring out the window at the birds sailing boldly across a backdrop of blue sky. Delia Grace tied the last of the laces of my gown into place and moved me over to the vanity.
“Me, too,” she replied. “Tournaments. Bonfires. Crowning Day is on the horizon.”
Her tone implied I should be more excited than the average girl, but I still had my reservations. “I suppose.”
I could feel her exasperation in the movement of her hands. “Hollis, you will undoubtedly be His Majesty’s partner and escort for the festivities! I don’t know how you can be so calm.”
“Thank the stars we have the king’s attention this year,” I said, keeping my tone light as she braided back the front pieces of my hair, “or it would be as dull as a tomb here.”
“You say that as if your courtship were a game,” she commented, sounding surprised.
“It is a game,” I insisted. “He’ll move along soon enough, so we need to enjoy this while we can.”
I watched Delia Grace chewing her lips in the mirror, not looking up from her task.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
She quickly perked up, lifting her lips into a smile. “Not a thing. Just perplexed by your cavalier attitude toward the king. I think there’s more to his attentions than you’re seeing.”
I looked down, thrumming my fingers across the table of the vanity. I liked Jameson. I’d be mad not to. He was handsome and wealthy and, for goodness’ sake, the king. He was also a fair dancer and most entertaining to be around, as long as he was in good spirits. But I was no fool. I’d watched him flit from girl to girl over the last several months. There had been at least seven, including me—and that was just counting the ones everyone at court knew about. I’d enjoy this for as long as I could and then accept whatever lump of a person my parents chose for me. At least I’d have these days to look back upon when I was a bored old lady.
“He’s still young,” I finally replied. “I don’t see him settling down with anyone until he gets through a few more years on the throne. Besides, I’m sure he’s expected to marry for political advantage. I can’t offer much there.”
There was a knock at the door, and Delia Grace went to answer it, disappointment on her face. I could tell she really thought I stood a chance, and I instantly felt guilty for being so difficult. In our decade of friendship, we’d always supported one another, but it was different these days.
As we were ladies at court, our families had maids. But the highest-ranking noblewomen and royalty? They had ladies-in-waiting. More than servants, your ladies were your confidantes, your attendants, your escorts . . . they were everything. Delia Grace was stepping into a role that didn’t exist for me yet, convinced that, at any moment, it would.
It meant more than I knew how to say, more than I knew how to handle. What is a friend but someone who thinks you’re capable of more than you do?
She returned with a letter in her hand and a glint in her eye. “There’s a royal seal on this,” she teased, flipping the paper over in her hand. “But, since we don’t care how the king feels about you, I suppose there’s no urgency to open it.”
“Let me see.” I stood and held a hand out, but she quickly retracted the letter, a smirk on her face. “Delia Grace, you wicked girl, give it to me!” She took a step back, and in a split second I was in pursuit, chasing her around my apartments, squealing with laughter. I managed to corner her twice, but she was always faster than I was, and wriggled out of the spaces before I could get ahold of her. I was nearly breathless from running and laughing when I finally caught her around the waist. She held the letter out as far as she could. I might have managed to wrestle it back from her, but as I was stretching upward, my mother burst in through the doors that attached my rooms to hers.
“Hollis Brite, have you lost your senses?!” she scolded.
Delia Grace and I pulled apart, placing our hands behind our backs and curtsying quickly.
“I could hear you girls shouting like animals through the walls. How can we hope to have a suitor matched with you if you insist on behaving like this?”
“Sorry, Mother,” I murmured contritely.
I dared to peek up at her. She was standing there with the same exasperated expression plastered to her face she usually wore when speaking with me.
“The Copeland girl got engaged only last week, and the Devauxes are in talks now as well. Yet you’re still acting like a child.”
I swallowed, but Delia Grace had never been one to stay silent. “Don’t you think it’s a little premature to pair Hollis with someone else? She has as good a chance as anyone at winning the king’s heart.”
My mother did her best to suppress her condescending smile. “We all know that the king’s eye is prone to wander. And Hollis isn’t quite queen material, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked with a sharply raised eyebrow, daring us to think otherwise. “Besides,” she added, “are you really in a position to talk about anyone’s potential?”
Delia Grace swallowed hard, her expression stone-like. I’d seen her don that mask a million times.
“And there you have it,” Mother concluded. Having made her disappointment with us clear, she turned on her heel and left.
I sighed, turning to Delia Grace. “Sorry about her.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” she admitted, finally handing over the letter. “And I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”
I took it from her and cracked the seal. “No matter. If it wasn’t this, it’d be something else.” She made a face that said I was right, and I went to reading the note. “Oh dear,” I said, patting at my loose hair. “I might need your help pulling this back again.”
“Why?”
I smiled over at her, waving the letter like a flag in the breeze. “Because His Majesty requires our presence on the river today.”
“How many people do you think will be there?” I asked.
“Who knows? He does enjoy having a crowd
around him.”
I pursed my lips. “True. I’d like to have him to myself just once.”
“Says the girl who insists this is all just a game.”
I looked over at her, sharing a smile. That Delia Grace, she always seemed to know more than I ever wanted to admit to.
We rounded the hallway and saw that the doors were already open, welcoming the new spring sun. My heartbeat picked up when I saw the red robe trimmed in ermine draped across the back of a slim but sturdy figure at the end of the walkway. Though he wasn’t facing me, his mere presence was enough to fill the air with a warm tickling feeling.
I fell into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
And I watched as a pair of glossy black shoes turned to face me.
Two
“MY LADY HOLLIS,” THE KING said, holding out his ring-bedecked hand. I took it and rose, looking into a beautiful set of honey-brown eyes. Something about the deep and purposeful attention he bestowed upon me whenever we were together made me feel a little like I did when Delia Grace and I were dancing and I’d spun around too quickly: slightly warm and dizzy.
“Your Majesty. I was so pleased to receive your invitation. I love the Colvard River.”
“So you’ve mentioned. I remember, you see,” he said, wrapping his hand around mine. He then dropped his voice. “I also remember you mentioning that your parents have been a little . . . overbearing recently. But I had to invite them for the sake of propriety.”
I peered behind him and saw a larger party than I’d been expecting for our excursion. My parents were present, as were some of the lords on the privy council, and plenty of the ladies who I knew were waiting impatiently for Jameson to finish with me so they could have their turn. In fact, I spotted Nora looking down her nose at me with Anna Sophia and Cecily right behind her, smug in their certainty that my time was soon to end.
“Don’t worry. Your parents won’t be on our barge,” he assured me. I smiled, thankful for a small reprieve, but unfortunately my luck didn’t extend to the winding ride in the coach down to the river.
Keresken Castle was set atop the Plateau of Borady, a marvelous and unmistakable sight. To get down to the river, our carriages had to weave slowly through the streets of the capital city of Tobbar . . . and that took some time.
I saw the gleam in my father’s eye as he realized this carriage ride was his chance to have an extended audience with the king. “So, Your Majesty, how go things along the border?” he began. “I hear our men were forced into a retreat last month.”
I had to avoid rolling my eyes. Why would my father think that reminding the king of our recent failures was the way to strike up a conversation? Jameson, though, took the question in stride.
“It’s true. We only have soldiers along the border to keep the peace, but what are they expected to do when attacked? Reports are that King Quinten insists Isolten land goes all the way to the Tiberan Plains.”
My father scoffed, though I could see he wasn’t truly as calm as he appeared. He always twisted the silver ring on his pointer finger when he was nervous, and he was doing just so now. “That has been Coroan land for generations.”
“Precisely. But I have no fear. We are safe from attacks here, and Coroans make for excellent soldiers.”
I stared out the windows, bored by the talk of inconsequential squabbles along the border. Jameson was usually the best company, but my parents killed any joy in the coach.
I couldn’t help sighing in relief when we pulled up to the dock and I could exit the stifling carriage. “You weren’t joking about your parents,” Jameson said when we were finally alone.
“The last two people I’d invite to a party, that’s for sure.”
“And yet they made the most charming girl in the world,” he said, kissing my hand.
I blushed and looked away, my eyes finding Delia Grace as she climbed out of her carriage, followed by Nora, Cecily, and Anna Sophia. If I thought my ride had been unbearable, her clenched fists as she walked over to me told me hers had been much worse.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Nothing that hasn’t happened a thousand times before.” She rolled her shoulders back, pulling herself up taller.
“At least we’ll be together on the boat,” I assured her. “Come. Won’t it be fun to watch their faces as you climb onto the king’s ship?”
We walked down to the landing, and I felt a thrill of heat run up my arm when King Jameson took my hand to help me onto our boat. As promised, Delia Grace joined us, along with two of the king’s advisers, while my parents and the remaining guests were escorted to various other boats at His Majesty’s disposal. The royal standard was sitting proudly atop its pole, the bold Coroan red flicking back and forth so quickly in the breeze off the river that it looked like fire. I happily took my seat to Jameson’s right, his fingers still laced through mine as he helped me settle in.
There was food to enjoy, and furs to cover us if the winds were too chilly. It seemed anything I could desire was right there before me, which was something I was still surprised by: the lack of want when I sat beside a king.
As we made our way down the river, people standing on the banks stopped and bowed when they saw the standard, or called out blessings for the king. He was so poised as he nodded his head in acknowledgment, sitting as upright as a tree.
I knew not every sovereign was handsome, but Jameson was. He took great pains with his appearance, keeping his dark hair short and his bronze skin soft. He was fashionable without being frivolous, but he liked to show off the best of his possessions. Taking the boats out this early in the spring could prove that point quickly enough.
And I liked that about him, if only because I got to sit here beside him, feeling unmistakably regal.
Along the side of the river, near where a new bridge had been built, a weatherworn statue stood, casting her shadow down the slope toward the blue-green waters. As tradition dictated, the gentlemen on the boats rose to stand while the ladies dropped our heads in respect. There were books filled with the tales of Queen Albrade riding along the countryside and fending off the Isoltens while her husband, King Shane, was off in Mooreland for matters of state. Upon his return, the king had seven statues of his wife placed across Coroa, and every August, all the ladies at court did dances holding wooden swords to remember her victory.
Indeed, the queens throughout Coroan history were often remembered more vividly than the kings, and Queen Albrade wasn’t even the most revered. There was Queen Honovi, who walked the far line of the country, setting the boundaries and blessing with a kiss the trees and rocks she used as markers. To this day, people would look for the stones in particular—as they were placed by the queen herself—and kiss them, too, for luck. Queen Lahja was famous for taking care of Coroan children at the height of the Isolten Plague, so named because when people contracted it and died, their skin turned as blue as the Isolten flag. She walked bravely into the city herself to find the little ones who survived and placed them with new families.
Even Queen Ramira, Jameson’s mother, was known across the country for her kindness. She was, perhaps, the opposite of her husband, King Marcellus. Where he tended to strike first without question, she was known to seek peace. I’d heard at least three potential wars were stopped by her gentle reasoning. The young men of Coroa owed a debt of gratitude to her. As did their mothers.
The legacies of Coroan queens left a mark on the entire continent, which was probably part of Jameson’s draw. Not only was he handsome and rich, not only would he make you a queen . . . he would make you a legend.
“I love being on the water,” Jameson commented, drawing me back to the beauty of the moment. “Probably one of my favorite things as a boy was sailing to Sabino with my father.”
“I remember your father was an excellent sailor,” Delia Grace remarked, inserting herself in the conversation.
Jameson nodded enthusiastically. “One of his many talents. I sometimes think I inherite
d more of my mother’s traits than his, but sailing stayed with me. His love of traveling, too. What of you, Lady Hollis? Do you like to travel?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never really had the chance. I’ve lived the entirety of my life between Keresken Castle and Varinger Hall. But I’ve always wanted to go to Eradore,” I breathed. “I do love the sea, and I’ve been told the beaches there are a thing of beauty.”
“They are.” He smiled and looked away. “I’ve heard it’s the fashion now for couples to take a trip together when they get married.” He met my eyes once more. “You should make sure your husband takes you to Eradore. You’d look radiant on the white beaches.”
He looked away again, popping berries into his mouth as if it was nothing to speak of husbands and trips and being alone. I looked at Delia Grace, who stared back at me with astonished eyes. I knew once we were in private, we would pull apart every piece of that moment to figure out just what it meant.
Was he trying to say he thought I should marry? Or was he hinting that I should marry . . . him?
These were the questions on my mind as I sat up, looking across the water. Nora was there with her sour expression, watching with the other wretched girls from court. As I peeked around, I noted several pairs of eyes settled, not upon the beauty of the day, but on me. The only set that seemed angry, though, was Nora’s.
I picked up a berry and hurled it over at her, hitting her square in the chest. Cecily and Anna Sophia laughed, and Nora’s jaw dropped in shock. But she quickly picked up some fruit of her own and threw it back at me, her expression shifting to something resembling happiness. Giggling, I picked up more, and began a war of sorts.
“Hollis, what in the world are you doing?” Mother called from her boat, just loud enough to be heard above the slaps of paddles on the water.
I looked at her and replied in all seriousness, “Defending my honor, of course.” I caught Jameson’s chuckle as I turned back to Nora.
There was a stream of laughter and berries going in both directions. It was the best fun I’d had in a while until I leaned a little too far over for a rather determined throw and ended up toppling into the water.
