I squinted at the window. Fractures of blue light bounced off the diamonds set in my tiara, drawing attention to where I sat. I hated wearing the heavy thing, but Mother insisted. I never did desire to attract those only a crown could entice. I grimaced and held my staff close to my chest. I watched the beady, wanting eyes of noblemen from the tables in front of mine as they stared at my head. Making it a point to look away from them, I clutched the ash wood until my knuckles turned white. Beating magic pulsated through the polished wood and into my hands. One spell and I could turn them all into the slimy eels they truly were, but I couldn’t cast one without bringing attention to my afterhours reading materials and Morgana’s illicit collection. Using banned spells was punishable by death. Although, as a princess, I was sure I could forgo execution, but Morgana would not.
“Stop it.” A girl giggled, then nudged the side of a young man, whose eyes were alight with lust. They passed by me, dipped their heads when they saw me, and hurried out the door.
I knew that look all too well. I’d only exchanged it with one other.
I glanced around the banquet hall, adorned with silks of silver and blue to signify the fae’s visit to the castle. I preferred those colors when compared to the awful pinks and lilacs that had been forced upon me since the wedding. Since she had come into our life. Florence Montague, now formally known as the princess of Magaelor. She was closer to the throne than I was since marrying my brother, and she never wasted an opportunity to remind me of it.
I watched from the back of the room as she and her ladies-in-waiting began the waltz. I didn’t bother forcing a smile or clapping. Instead, I silently judged them from the security of the shadows. The ladies’ heels tapped against polished marble. People sat watching them at long oak tables, which were crammed with platters and plates of jam and lemon tarts, pink crystals from the lake which made any drink taste sweet, and roasted dragons’ eggs, a delicacy.
My mother peered at me from the head table as I reached for a tart. She wore the same disapproving look she greeted me with every day. I retracted, then picked up my cup of peppermint tea and sipped. She didn’t like me eating too many jam tarts. “It’s not good for a princess to be stuffing her face in public,” she would say, chastising me whenever she spotted me eating sugary treats. She hardly ever ate; you could tell from the sullen skin hanging from her cheekbones and her pale, chalky appearance. Her hooded eyes were bloodshot as she stared out over those enjoying their breakfast.
The dance finished and everyone applauded. I spotted the girl from the tower room who had interrupted my reading and shot her a scathing look, but it was wasted. She was too busy eyeing a nobleman’s son. I wrestled with the idea of having her sent home. Although, I had been wrong about one thing; she wasn’t one of my mother’s ladies. She was Florence’s. More had come. How many did she need? I had an entourage of zero, except for the ladies and maids who attended my basic needs.
Ruffles covered their dresses. She only picked women she’d deemed as uglier than her, but the new girl was pretty, and Florence looked displeased. She was vain, and no one could outshine her. They never did, except for when the fae visited court. A smirk tugged at my lips. I loved watching Florence squirm. My hatred of her far overpowered my irritation of the girl who made her jealous.
Florence turned her head, and her ash-blonde waves danced around her shoulders. She searched the room, looking for André, who hadn’t paid her the slightest bit of attention since I had joined the festivities. At what I presumed was an attempt to get his attention, she drank her liquor and proceeded to flirt with any man in her vicinity. A shrill, high-pitched laugh resonated through the room as she fell back on some poor guy’s lap.
I sighed loudly enough to catch the attention of a woman in front of me, who looked at me with shrouded annoyance. I hadn’t done much to mask my dislike for Florence. Neither did my mother, who felt the same, but the others in the castle loved her. I didn’t like Florence for many reasons, but arguably, her worst trait was her indiscretion. She acted however she pleased while wearing the Mortis family name. She argued with André in public and was more impulsive than even the likes of my brother.
No one had expected him to marry so quickly. He had always enjoyed life as a bachelor, but I supposed it had to happen sometime or another. Marrying her was his way of getting it over and done with, obeying my parents’ wishes while cementing his future rule with a simple I do. After all, he was the crown prince, and future kings needed a queen. I just wished he’d picked anyone but her.
“Don’t get upset,” Morgana said as she took the empty seat next to mine. “You’ll end up with frown lines.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You never come down for breakfast. Why are you here?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Your father encouraged me to do so. He has an important announcement.”
I rolled my eyes. “We all know what encouraged means.”
“Yes, but while he is in power, we must do as he says.”
“For now,” I said and looked at my brother. I couldn’t wait until he took the throne. He would be the best king this kingdom had ever seen. Aside from his taste in women, he was the perfect ruler—fair, with strong and traditional values and an innate ability to broker negotiations like no other.
I balled my fist when Florence grabbed the attention of the room by laughing too loudly again.
It was only two weeks ago when everything had changed and she was inevitably pushed into our lives.
It was a rare, sunny afternoon when I’d snuck into the council hall to listen to the trade deals my father and his council were trying to make with the dark fae. Hiding behind a wood panel at the top of a secret passageway, I listened as the council’s voices rose in an uproar. They were attempting to obtain more mugroot, which grew native to the Snowy Peaks in the fae’s kingdom. My father argued the price was twice what it should be and that they were exploiting them due to their dislike for sorcerers. Jasper and Amara, the ambassadors from the dark fae court, argued back. Accusations were thrown from both sides.
I watched through a small crack in the wood when the doors burst open. André sauntered in with a twenty-something blonde in tow, who I’d later be introduced to as my future sister-in-law. They had met at the Academy of Sorcery, and he told everyone how she was his greatest love. I groaned. I was sure it wouldn’t last. It never did. Florence bounced behind him, all smiles and pearly white teeth, her eyes filled with hope. It wasn’t the first time he had brought a girl back to the castle, but it was the first time he had talked about marriage. André was easily distracted by beautiful things, and it was only a matter of time until the next pretty girl came along with a smart mouth, and Florence would be forgotten. At least, I had thought. Despite our objections, the wedding came fast. They were married within a week. I supposed it was a good thing for her. At least she had gotten a crown before his attention drifted elsewhere.
A hearty chuckle from a man near my table pulled my attention back to the festivities. I’d missed that morning’s council meeting—and the one from yesterday—after spending my mornings in Morgana’s tower room. I only hoped I hadn’t missed anything of interest.
“What are you thinking about?” Morgana asked. She looked out of place among the fashionably dressed ladies and suited men. Her loose-fitting purple dress was patterned with daisies.