Crown of Coral and Pearl

Back in my room, I paced over the scattered carpets, my mind racing. Ceren was cold and cruel. How could I marry someone who spoke so lightly of murder, who seemed to relish other people’s discomfort?

A small part of me wondered if the truth about my identity would get me sent home to Varenia. But I knew deep down that he would likely kill me, and worst of all, punish my people. I couldn’t risk that. The only silver lining I could find in any of this was that at least I was here instead of Zadie. The thought of that man touching my sister made me want to destroy something. I settled for pummeling one of my eighteen pillows.

“Milady,” Ebb said quietly, placing a light hand on my shoulder when I’d finished my tantrum. “The prince will be here soon.”

I looked up. “I can’t marry him, Ebb.”

Her eyes were soft and sympathetic. “Be careful,” she whispered, glancing around the room as though someone might hear us. “Sound carries strangely in this mountain.” She placed a finger on the wall next to a small hole carved into the stone. No doubt it led through to another chamber, where someone could listen if they chose.

Let them hear me, I thought. What was the worst they could do? Stick me in a cave and force me to marry the most disagreeable man in history? Oh wait, they’d already done that.

I smacked another pillow for good measure.

“How could you not tell me the queen was dead?” I asked, resuming my pacing. “Didn’t you think I had a right to know? She was one of my people, Ebb. The only person here who might have understood me.”

“I am sorry, milady. But I was expressly forbidden to speak of the late queen.”

“By whom? The prince?”

“By the king himself.”

I folded my arms across my chest, remembering the way Ceren had touched me there as though it were nothing, and sat down on the bed. “He probably knew I’d never come if I found out the previous queen had been murdered. How did she die?”

“They believe she was stabbed, because of all the blood. That’s what I heard, anyway. I was still living in the village then.”

I patted the bed next to me, inviting her to sit. Ebb bit her lip, hesitating, and then perched at the edge of the mattress. Perhaps this was not an appropriate way for a lady and her maid to interact, but I was used to confiding everything in someone else. Right now, I didn’t need a servant; I needed a friend.

“We could send word to the prince that you’re too tired for the tour, put it off for later.”

“What good would putting it off do? I’m supposed to marry the man, remember?” I shuddered at the thought of his cold hands on my bare skin. “Do you know when the wedding is planned for?”

“They’ll want to have it before the king passes, I imagine.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That could be tomorrow.”

“He’s been in a similar condition for six months, at least.”

I turned to her fully, forcing her to meet my gaze. “When will I be allowed to leave the castle?”

“I—”

We heard footsteps just before a heavy knock on the door. My stomach plummeted like a stone.

“Will you come with me?” I asked Ebb. “Please?”

The door flew open before she could respond, and we both jumped to our feet. Ceren stepped forward, but he had the decency to pause on the threshold at least. “Are you ready, my lady?”

I nodded and glanced behind me at Ebb.

“Your maid can wait here. I’m sure she has plenty of work to keep her busy.”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish, but Ebb only bobbed a quick curtsy and handed me my wrap. “Very well,” I said, pulling the black fur capelet around my shoulders. “Lead the way.”

“After you. I insist.”

I hated the idea of having my back to Ceren, but I didn’t see much of a choice. I began to walk down the hallway when a guard stepped up beside me.

“Milady.”

I turned and smiled at the familiar, boyish face. “Grig, you’re here.”

“I hope that’s all right.”

“It’s wonderful.” He offered me his arm, but I was too conscious of Ceren’s presence behind me to accept.

“You’re one of my brother’s men, aren’t you?” the prince asked.

Grig turned to bow. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Don’t you have work to be doing? We have plenty of guards here at New Castle.”

“Prince Talin asked that one of us remain here with the lady.”

Ceren raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised he could spare you. He says there aren’t enough men at Old Castle these days, that we’re ‘vulnerable’ to attack.”

I thought of the guard at the bridge, of the woman king to the south. Was an attack on Ilara really so out of the question?

“Shall I leave, Your Highness?” Grig asked.

Ceren waved a hand at him. “No, no. You’re here, you may as well stay. Wouldn’t want to anger dear Prince Talin, would we?”

Prince Talin. At the sound of his name, my mind went back to yesterday, to when he’d dismounted his horse and taken my hand. I blushed at the memory of his gaze holding mine. I couldn’t imagine Talin taking sick pleasure in tormenting me the way Ceren did.

Of course, Talin was also the only person in Ilara who might be able to guess my secret. I should be grateful he lived far away and that our chances for interaction were limited.

I should be. But I wasn’t.

“Ah, I know that look,” Ceren said, taking my arm and prodding Grig on ahead of us. Gods, was it that obvious? “My brother is blessed with both a handsome face and a charming disposition. He’s a favorite here at court.”

There was a bitterness to his tone that hinted at jealousy. But Ceren was not unattractive, and my mother was living proof that charm could be an illusion.

“Did he make an appearance at Old Castle yesterday?” Ceren asked.

“Yes. And we met in Varenia, as I’m sure you recall.” The words were deliberately pointed. I wanted to know why Ceren had sent his brother as his errand boy.

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten. He said you were perfect. ‘As pure and unblemished as a Varenian pearl.’ I hate it when he’s right.”

The night we’d had dinner at the governor’s house, Talin had said he couldn’t imagine anyone more lovely. He had been looking at me when he said it, but if he truly believed that lack of imperfection equaled beauty, then I must have been mistaken. My scar tingled as my cheeks heated with embarrassment.

“‘Beware the lionfish, my dear,’” Ceren said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Isn’t that how the Varenian song goes? I remember Queen Talia singing it to Talin when he was little. You wave children love your lullabies.”

The line was part of a Varenian cradle song we all grew up with. It warned children to stay away from dangerous sea creatures, but each line had a hidden meaning. For example, lionfish are curiously beautiful, a spectacle of a fish that begs to be touched, despite their venomous spines. But we weren’t just to beware of lionfish; we were to steer clear of anyone too flashy, too proud. I was surprised Ceren knew this, and that he would use it to describe his own brother.

“‘Beware the lionfish, my dear,’” I murmured. “‘Beware the fish that’s made of stone.’”

“Hmm?”

“That’s the next line of the song.” The stonefish was even more dangerous than the lionfish, in part because it had stronger venom, but also because it was hard to see. A stonefish could blend in to the rocks around it so well you wouldn’t know it was there until it was too late and you’d placed a hand or foot directly on top of it. The message there was clear: be careful and cautious with your heart, for things are not always what they seem. At least the lionfish made its presence known.

“I haven’t heard it in years, so you’ll forgive me for forgetting.”

I inclined my head.

“Your name means pearl, does it not?”

“Yes,” I said, my thoughts immediately turning to my sister. I had always been the coral, never the pearl. Now I was supposed to be the thing everyone wanted, the object a future king desired above all else.

I had slowed my pace to match the prince’s, and Grig was now almost out of sight at the end of the corridor. Ceren moved his hand from my arm to the small of my back.

“There’s something in here I’d like to show you,” he said, reaching for a door I hadn’t noticed in the dim corridor.

I wanted to call out to Grig, but Ceren ushered me through the door before I could say anything. We were in a chamber roughly the size of my bedroom, and for a moment I feared this was Ceren’s personal chamber. He went to the far side and lit a match from a small lantern, then touched it to a pile of logs in the fireplace. As the wood caught fire, more of the room came into view.