Crown of Coral and Pearl

It appeared to be a workroom, not a bedroom. There were three tables of varying sizes, all covered in glass bottles and bowls, as well as various objects I had no words for. On the floor in the corner lay what looked like an empty sack. A long hose was coiled next to it.

“This is my study,” the prince said. “I love to learn, about anything and everything.” He picked up a small bowl that was filled with pink pearls of all shapes and sizes. “One of the things that most fascinates me is the Varenian pearl. I’m sure you know people here use them in creams and ointments for all manner of ailment. I burned my hand on the fire last week.” He held his hand up, palm out. “Not a trace of the blister. No scar. Miraculous.”

I looked at the bowl of pearls and felt my anger rise. There were enough there to feed my family for a year. We were harvesting the pearls to extinction, and for what? To spare one man from a blister?

“Your people know far more about the pearls than I do, no doubt,” he continued. The words coming out of his mouth were perfectly harmless. He’d said nothing sinister or frightening in the past few minutes, and yet my heart hammered in my chest. He clearly harbored some sort of animosity toward Queen Talia and Prince Talin, maybe toward all Varenians. I wiped my sweating palms on my skirts. My body was telling me I was in danger, even if my mind didn’t want to accept it.

Ceren walked over to the empty sack and held up a corner of it to show me. “This will be my greatest invention yet. It’s an underwater breathing apparatus. With this device, a man can stay underwater for ten minutes, maybe more. But it’s not ready, unfortunately. The test we conducted yesterday had rather disastrous results, I’m sorry to say. We lost a servant in the process.”

He watched me for a reaction as I struggled to conceal my horror. How could anyone dismiss death so casually?

“Such a shame, really. He was just a year younger than you. By the time—”

“Milady?”

I spun around at the sound of Grig’s voice. “Grig!”

“I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize you’d stopped until I was halfway down the next corridor. Is everything all right?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ceren snapped. “She’s been with me the entire time. What could be safer than that?”

I could think of a thousand things safer than this man—a hammerhead shark, perhaps. Or even a riptide.

I took hold of Grig’s arm. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. Still adjusting to land, I think. I’ll return to my chamber for a bath, if it’s all right with you.”

“Ah yes, your baths. I heard you’ve ordered two a day. You must feel like a fish out of water here, hmm?”

Had he found out about my baths from a servant, or from one of the tunnels through the stone? And if someone was listening to me, did that mean they could also see me if they wanted to?

I cleared my throat. “Yes, that is precisely how I feel. Thank you for showing me your...room.”

“We can resume the tour later, when you’re feeling better.”

I was almost through the doorway when Ceren called after us. “Oh, and Grig? Feel free to return to Old Castle. Your services here are no longer required.”

* * *

I lay in my bath until the water had turned cold and my skin began to pucker. Since leaving Varenia, I hadn’t washed my face unless I was sure I was alone, and even then I immediately reapplied the stain. I was getting so used to seeing myself without my scar that on the one occasion the stain wore off in my sleep during the journey, the sight of it had startled me.

Ebb wrapped a towel around me as I stepped out of the tub onto the cold floor. Far worse than the oppressive weight of the stone around me was the darkness. It had only been one day without sun, and already I ached for it so deeply I could feel it in my bones. I looked up at the pathetic skylights and scowled. The amount of light that filtered through was barely enough to illuminate the room during the day. How had Talia survived here as long as she did?

The king was planning to attend dinner that evening, so Ebb dressed me in another dark gown, this one with a diamond-patterned skirt, the rows of diamonds made of different fabrics to highlight the contrasts. The collar was up to my throat, but a diamond had been cut out of the bodice to reveal the bare skin beneath, right where Ceren had touched me. I had never worn anything that exposed my chest like this in Varenia.

“Why must everything be so dull and colorless?” I muttered as I smoothed out the wide skirts with my palms.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “It’s as I told you, milady—we’re in mourning for Princess Ilara. She died at sea when she was kidnapped by a prince from Kuven.”

“I thought Prince Laef and Princess Ilara ran away to be together,” I said, confused. “That’s what we were told in Varenia.”

Ebb frowned. “You must have misunderstood.”

I shook my head. No doubt in Kuven, people claimed that Ilara was responsible for Prince Laef’s death. “But how can an entire kingdom still be in mourning for a princess who died hundreds of years ago?”

“When Ilara died, her younger brother Maldon became the crown prince, as she had no other sisters,” she explained. “He was only ten at the time, and Ilara’s death hit him extremely hard. He developed a debilitating fear of water. That’s why the castle was moved here to Mount Ayris, away from the ocean and rivers, and even lakes. He also ordered a decree that everyone wear mourning clothes under penalty of death. The decree has never been lifted.”

“But why not?”

“I’m not quite sure, milady.” She began to pile my hair onto my head, fastening it with jet pins that glittered amid the coils. “I believe it’s because we’ve been waiting for a new princess all this time. A princess who will restore the queendom to what it once was, who will quell the uprisings and unite the territories under the Ilarean flag. But our kings only ever have sons.”

I twisted my mouth to the side. I still didn’t see why we had to wear such joyless clothing.

“Shall I powder your hair, milady?” Ebb asked as she adjusted the final pin.

I turned to look at her. “Whatever for?”

“Some of the lords and ladies do it to curry favor with Prince Ceren.”

I shook my head, and she continued to fix my hair. I tried to imagine myself doing this, day in and day out, for a century. The thought brought tears to my eyes.

I wiped them away and took a deep breath. I had only left Varenia a week ago. I still had two weeks to learn something valuable to tell Sami at the market, aside from the fact that the Varenian queen was dead and her husband might soon follow in her wake.

Be brave, I told myself. For Zadie. For Varenia.



      15



The dining hall was filled with lords and ladies and dozens of servants, all witnesses to what I was sure would be many missteps on my part. Ebb and I had gone over the cutlery and various forms of address, but I hadn’t fully memorized everything yet.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay with me through the meal.

I closed my eyes and thought of Zadie again, of what she’d say to me if she were here. I searched for the inner strength she said I possessed, but I felt empty, hollow, like a shell of the girl who believed she was meant for a world bigger than the one she knew. I wished I’d taken something of Zadie’s with me to hold on to; that I had something more tangible than memories.

A servant showed me to my seat, which, as I’d feared, was the same place where I’d eaten lunch. Ceren would be at my side for who knew how long. Lords and ladies followed my example and came to the table, nodding at me solemnly.

Ceren entered a few minutes after I did. His hair was loose around his shoulders, falling in ribbons to the middle of his chest. Though I found his paleness peculiar, it also fascinated me. It was as if he’d been carved from a block of white stone. And there was something in his expression, the awareness in his eyes and tension in his posture, that hinted at his intelligence.

Everyone, including me, dropped into a bow or curtsy, but I watched him from under my lashes. He looked bored, like he’d rather be back in his room fiddling with whatever it was he was working on.

Then his eyes fell on me, and that glimmer returned to his eye, a sharp look I didn’t like. He strode toward me and took my hand, bringing it to his lips once again. They were firm and dry against my skin.

“You look lovely, my lady.”

I was saved from responding by the sudden shift in the air that signaled someone else approaching. The king, surrounded by lords and ladies, slowly shuffled into the room, looking pitifully small under his giant fur robes. It was a wonder he could walk at all. He carried a golden staff that was probably meant to be ornamental, but I could tell he was using it to prop himself up. The walk from the door to his seat was short, fortunately, and he collapsed into his chair just as someone else entered the room.