1
I sit on the rail of the ship, looking out at the celebration in Port Kellier. The people of Draegan have reason to be joyous for the first time in over a hundred years. My heart is full, and I marvel at the strangeness of it.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything but regret and guilt.
“Hello, cat,” a sailor says, coming up to stroke my back. “What do you think of all this?”
I shy away from him, letting out a disgruntled mew. Before I can escape, he picks me up, clutching me like a child clings to a doll. Though tears wet his cheeks, his eyes are full of wonder as he stares up at the daylit sky.
For just a moment, I let the man hold me, and then I struggle out of his arms and scamper down the gangplank. No one pays me any attention, and why would they? They have no reason to suspect I’m more than I appear. As far as they know, there hasn’t been my kind of magic in either of the kingdoms since the creation of the Chasm.
But unbeknownst to them, I’ve been here, quietly waiting for someone to find a way to cross the rift. I didn’t know when it would be or how long I’d have to wait.
In truth, it happened sooner than I expected. I’m glad I’m still here to see it.
I didn’t intend to follow the Draeganish prince and his Renovian princess, but the pull was too great. Now here I am, in Draegan—a land filled with people who loathe my kind.
“Mama!” a girl cries as I leap onto the long pier, tugging at her mother’s arm. “Look at the cat. She must have stolen away on the ship.”
I trot past the child, heading toward a secluded alley between the buildings. Once I’m alone, I feel for the warm flame of magic in my core and draw it around me like a blanket. The transformation is usually as easy as breathing, but it proves to be more difficult in Draegan.
As soon as the magic is complete, I smooth my gown and run my fingers through my hair, glad to be myself once more. When I turn, I find the child staring at me. Silent as a wraith, she must have followed me.
Her mouth hangs open, and her eyes have gone as wide as saucers.
“Hello.” Undaunted, I kneel in front of her. “What is your name?”
“You…were a cat.”
“I looked like a cat,” I correct with a smile. “But I’ve always been, and will always be, a fairy.”
She blinks at me, suddenly wary. Then she edges back, and fear makes her pupils dilate.
My smile dims at her reaction. To the children of Draegan, the fae are cruel creatures of myth—the race who cursed them and set nightmares free on their land.
“A nice fairy,” I promise softly.
The child glances over her shoulder, looking toward the shore. “Did you do that? Did you heal the sea?”
“I did not…but I suppose you could say I had a part in it.”
After a long moment, she must decide I mean her no harm. Shyly, she says, “My name is Isabella.”
“And I’m Seraphina. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
As if remembering the manners her mother has likely taught her since birth, she stands a little straighter and asks, “Is this your first time in Port Kellier?”
Slowly, I rise. Memories wash over me like an icy ocean wave, stealing my breath. They’ve been too close to the surface recently—have been since I laid eyes on Draegan’s heir. The family resemblance is strong.
“No,” I say softly. “I know this place well.”
2
“Your Highness?” my maid says timidly, still unable to meet my eyes.
I have yet to decide if it’s because she feels guilt over how horrifically her kingdom has wronged me, or if she’s simply terrified. I suppose I haven’t been the most pleasant person these last few days.
“Prince Tryndon is here,” she continues. “Shall I send him away?”
“No, I called for him.” I rise from my seat by the window, where I spend most of my time. “Show him inside.”
The girl looks surprised, and rightly so—I’ve refused all visitors. I haven’t even seen my husband in days.
Hot anger flares in my chest when I think of Rhys, but it soon dulls to a simmer, leaving nothing but anguish. When I remember how easily I walked into his deception…
Before I fall apart yet again, the door opens. I clear my throat, quickly blinking to rid my eyes of the sharp sting.
Just like my maid, Tryndon walks into the room while looking at the floor—as if he’s unable to meet my gaze.
“Leave us,” I say to the girl.
For once, her eyes dart to mine, terrified. She then glances at Tryndon. “Alone? With…?”
“Yes, go.”
She turns on her heel, not about to argue with me, and scurries for the door like a spooked mouse.
When I look back at Tryndon, I find him smirking. He studies me cautiously, unable to stay solemn for long. “They’re all scared of you—your maids, the guards, anyone and everyone who’s come in contact with you.”
I raise a brow in disdain and pointedly jerk my chin toward him. “Obviously, not everyone.”
His smile grows increasingly mischievous. “Rhys will be livid when he finds out you asked for me before him. He’s beside himself.”
The words wedge the knife a little deeper into my heart, but I ignore them.
Refusing to speak of that, I say, “In Saulette, you stood as a witness in the magistrate’s office when Rhys and I were married.”
Tryndon’s expression falls slightly, betraying his confusion. “Yes…”
“Does anyone know?”
He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure where the conversation is going, and it’s making him nervous. “The men do, as does Cassia and your brother. But no one else.”
Sharply, I say, “You’ve seen Braeton?”
“If you would have joined us for meals, you would have seen him as well.”
I growl under my breath, turning away from Tryndon. When Rhys’s eldest brother rescued me from the throne room, he assured me Braeton was well. That’s all the information I could process at the time, and I sent Edwin away.
I assumed my brother was being held as a prisoner, but he’s attending meals?
“May…may I see him?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Privately?”
“I think I can arrange it.”
There’s a smile in Tryndon’s voice, a warmness I’ve missed. A rogue tear slips down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. I can’t be deceived by the prince’s friendly manner, not again. He’s as much to blame as his brother.
Except I didn’t stupidly fall in love with Tryndon.
“Amalia?” the prince says quietly, coming up behind me.
“I’m tired,” I say as I stare out the window at the dead forest beyond the city’s fortified walls. “Please leave.”
“I know I don’t have a right to ask, but won’t you talk to Rhys? Let him explain—”
I whip back, my eyes flashing. “What is there for Rhys to explain exactly? That he tricked me? That he lied? I already know those things!”
Tryndon steps back, looking wary of me once more.
“Go,” I whisper through clenched teeth, angrily swiping more tears off my cheeks.