Princess Aerity stared out from her chamber window that evening at the darkened skies above the royal port. Princess Vixie and Lady Wyneth watched at her side. A massive bonfire had been built outside the west commons and was open to the public. All persons’ hands had been thoroughly checked for lash marks as they entered royal lands, and guards patrolled as far as the eye could see.
Tonight’s spectacle was twofold. People could see the body of the latest creature for themselves and know that their king was capable of keeping them safe. But at the same time the people were watching as their king burned the lists of those who were Lashed, an extreme act that struck fear in traditionalists. The king wanted his people to know that he was trying to appease this madwoman in order to keep his people safe, but Aerity was not expecting peace that night. Her entire being was on high alert.
“We should be down there,” Vixie said. Aerity and Wyneth both shook their heads.
“This is for the people,” Wyneth told her. “And to keep Rozaria from killing again. It is not safe.”
“Since when do you care about your safety, huntress?” A smile of admiration grazed Vixie’s teasing lips. “We heard about how you faced down that monster and made a perfect shot.”
“What I did today . . . I wish I hadn’t been a part of it. And I wish Lord Alvi would not have glamorized my role.” Her voice was so serious that the sisters shared a sad glance and went back to staring out the window in silence.
The princess felt as trapped as she had several months ago when the first beast was on the loose and the royals were ordered to remain in the castle. She’d come to loathe feeling helpless, especially after she’d helped kill the first creature. It didn’t matter that today’s monster had been so swiftly slain, because there were more. Until Rozaria and her like-minded followers were captured, there would always be more.
Hundreds of people gathered around the bonfire, the unnatural creature lifted high on a scaffold beside it. Aerity’s parents watched from the balcony below her window. A line of royal soldiers marched up the cobbled path. Harrison led the way, in uniform, carrying several parchment scrolls. The people moved to make way for them. Harrison and the other soldiers climbed the scaffold and stood before the creature’s body. Harrison appeared to be addressing the crowd, holding up the scrolls.
“He was so kind today,” Wyneth whispered. She leaned her forehead against the glass.
“He’s always such a gentleman, isn’t he?” Vixie asked.
“Always,” Aerity agreed.
They watched as Harrison threw the scrolls one by one into the roaring fire. And then the men set to lifting the beast. Before they had a chance to fully stand, the girls heard a muffled scream through the thick windows. All three pressed their faces closer. A small opening in the crowd revealed a woman laid out on the ground, completely still. Another woman leaned over her, screaming, shaking her head. All around her people began to push and run in different directions.
“Deep seas, what’s happening down there?” Aerity asked.
“Is she dead?” Vixie stared down.
Voices rose and the crowd became a frantic mob. As people fell, others trampled.
“No!” Wyneth covered her face.
Aerity watched in horror. The king and queen were ushered from the balcony back inside the castle as guards and soldiers flooded the grounds below. She couldn’t make sense of anything happening below, so she clambered from the window seat and grabbed her skirts, rushing from her chambers with her sister and cousin close behind.
They ran straight to the king’s office, where she knew her parents would be brought. Moments later they shuffled in with a feeling of high expectancy in the air.
“What in Eurona happened out there?” King Charles asked.
Royals, advisers, and guards all peered around at one another, wearing matching faces of confusion and disappointment. Nobody knew. The king began to pace behind his long desk.
“They will get things under control,” Queen Leighlane tried to assure him, but her lips pursed with worry. The king rubbed his face.
“This is what happens when we take away the people’s stability,” whispered Duke Gulfton, his eyes fervent.
It took only five minutes of waiting, but it felt like the longest five minutes of Aerity’s life before Harrison burst through the door with a paper in his hand. Behind him was another soldier with a young, ragged boy. All three were breathing hard. The boy’s eyes were rimmed in red.
Harrison and the other soldier gave short bows to the king.
“What news?” he asked.
Harrison spoke. “A villager woman was killed, Your Majesty. No signs of a weapon mark, so we can only assume . . .”
“A Lashed One,” the king hissed. “Was he captured?”
Harrison’s face fell. “Not yet, Your Majesty. People began to shout about a Lashed attack and chaos ensued. But the men are searching. And this lad gave this paper to my soldier.” He motioned to the boy and the soldier behind him. “The child says a woman with brown hair and a blue cloak paid him a copper outside the gates to the royal lands to give this paper to a soldier during the burnings. We believe the boy knows nothing else. He claims he can’t read.” Aerity believed it. The boy sniffled and rubbed his eyes. Harrison handed the paper to King Charles. Aerity and the others watched.
He read it through once, and his face grew grave. “Great seas alive.” He motioned to the soldier and said, “Take the boy and find his parents. Question them. See if anyone else saw this woman or knows her whereabouts.”
The soldier saluted and left with the boy.
King Charles wiped his face again. “The letter says, ‘He who attempts to fool is a fool himself. For burning a fake list you shall lose a member of your kingdom. Do not underestimate my reach. Tomorrow morning your complete Lashed lists and the copies you have made will burn or more shall die.’” The king looked up with wide eyes, the room heavy with dread. “There is a traitor among us.”
Aerity stood with water lapping at her legs, the edges of the scene blurred in her mind. She was alone with the great beast. The creature stared eye to eye with her, giving a snuffle against her outreached hand. She was not afraid. She knew it would not harm her. In its own way the monster seemed to smile around its massive tusks, its eyes drifting closed as it took comfort from Aerity’s caress of its wiry jaw. Her stomach lurched, knowing what she must do. Slowly, like a cruel punisher, Aerity dug the sharp blade into the beast’s throat. Its eyes flew open, striking her with a brokenhearted look of disbelief. She twisted the knife and it howled.
Aerity shot upward, awaking in semi-darkness. She blinked to adjust her eyes. Only a dream, only a dream, she reminded herself. Still, she pressed a hand to her clenched abdomen, breathing away the feelings of sadness and guilt that the dream always brought. Her emotions were a snarled mess.
Only the slightest hint of moonlight entered the arched windows as she felt for her slippers with her toes, pushing her feet into them. She peered out over the silent, dark grounds, thinking it all seemed spooky despite its innocuousness.
She needed fresh air but didn’t dare swing open her windows. No flying beasts had been discovered, but they’d been ordered to keep the castle windows closed just in case. Nothing seemed impossible at this point.
Aerity grabbed her robe from the bedpost hook and shrugged her arms into it. She would take a walk to clear her mind of her dream of the monster’s eyes. She passed a guard at the entrance of her chambers, who straightened at the sight of her.
“I’m fine,” she said before he could speak. “I need a walk. I’ll return shortly.”
He gave a nod, but sent a wary look up and down the silent halls, as if danger were lurking around every corner.
Surprise flitted inside her when she became aware where her feet were taking her. Lord Alvi’s quarters. She’d never visited him before. Never had reason. Aerity hadn’t thought of him as a confidant, but she found herself wondering if his kingdom had ever dealt with treason. If he was to be her husband, she would need to learn to turn to him. There were some aspects of the coldlander she respected, such as his leadership and political outlook.
Her feet stopped halfway down Lief’s hall as she realized the ridiculousness of waking him in the middle of the night, though he likely wouldn’t mind. He was open to her in many ways. It’d been she who kept a wall between them. She stood there deliberating when she heard his door click open. Oh. Well, then, that settled it. Perhaps he couldn’t sleep either. She took a step forward as a hushed, breathy, feminine bout of laughter issued from his doorway.
Aerity halted and stared in shock as a young woman came out, a beaming smile on her pretty face, her hair a wavy brown mess of a braid undone. A shock of recognition jabbed Aerity in the stomach. Caitrin! Her maid . . . Lord Alvi reached out from his doorway and grasped the girl around the waist, a dashing grin on his face as he pulled her to him. He wore a towel loosely tied around his hips and nothing else. The shock of it made Aerity gasp. She covered her mouth to muffle the sound, but it was too late.
Both heads turned toward her. Caitrin leaped away from Lord Alvi with a cry and Lord Alvi’s eyes bulged. One hand held the towel while the other went to his blond hair, as if grasping for something, anything. “Princess, what are you . . .” His question trailed off.
A full-force gale began at Aerity’s feet and circled its way upward, turning her insides around and around, straight up to her head where she thought her mind might explode.
“Oh seas.” Caitrin crumpled to the floor, her hands pressed to the stone as her body heaved with uncontrollable breaths. “Your Highness! Princess, please. Please, I’m so sorry.”
Part of Aerity wanted to lift the girl to her feet, this girl who she thought of as a friend, and the other part of her felt utterly betrayed. Of all the men she could have had.
Lord Alvi finally dropped his hand and stood taller, staring from Caitrin to Aerity.
“Why have you come?” His tone was tinged with uneasiness. “Is there danger?”
She could not yet speak, only able to shake her head slowly. Caitrin had quieted, but kept her face down, nose to the floor, sucking in loud breaths as she fought for air, shaking.
Aerity licked her dry lips. “I needed to walk. I thought we might talk.”
Lord Alvi’s eyes searched her. “I was not expecting to see you.”
“Obviously.”
Caitrin let out a low moan and curled in on herself like an animal in fear.
Aerity was so tired, so numb, that she felt she’d rather turn and walk away than deal with this. But as she stared at her betrothed, still flushed from his time with her maid, a darker part of herself—a part she’d worked so hard to confine—began to rise from deep within her. It was the part of her that was angry about being a pawn, a prize, a victim of these tumultuous circumstances. It was the shameful part of her that did not want to sacrifice her love and happiness for the kingdom. Aye, that piece of her that wanted to be selfish, to rebel and run away from it all. To take something for herself, just as Lief was doing, no matter the consequences.
She took a shaking breath and allowed that sunken part of herself to surface, like a raging fire in the pit of her despair, kindled by the scene before her and her bleak future ahead.
This is my life, Aerity thought. This will always be my life. And then a simple decision arose within her. Lord Alvi actually appeared frightened of her.
Caitrin wailed, her nails scratching the stone.
“Enough,” Aerity said. She trembled on the inside with the power of her unleashed emotions. She moved forward. Caitrin’s forehead touched the floor as she pressed a hand tightly over her mouth, her body shuddering. The girl knew what could be done to her. If Aerity had a mind to punish her, she could be beaten, sent to the dungeon, even killed. But her anger was not for her maid. “Stand up, Cait.”
Lord Alvi stared, as if unsure what to do, but Aerity did not acknowledge him.
Caitrin, a year older than Aerity, was someone she’d cared for since she became her maid three years ago. She knew she had every right to be angry with the girl, but the fact was that she did not love Lord Alvi, and Caitrin was quite aware of that. She also understood the allure of the handsome, powerful lord from the coldlands.
Caitrin shuffled to her feet, her face still down, wiping at her cheeks and then fumbling with her skirts.
“Look at me,” Aerity said.
Caitrin lifted her face and looked at the princess through watery, guilt-lined eyes.
“You will fetch me dye, something dark like mahogany. And shears. Bring them to my chambers tomorrow at sunset.”
“Sh-shears, Your Highness?” Caitrin croaked and reached up to grasp her flowing locks, aghast.
“We’re not cutting your hair, Caitrin,” Aerity said impatiently. “I’ll also need a commoner’s dress and boots. Be discreet about this, do you understand? Not a word.”
“My lady . . .” Lord Alvi said with concern, but Aerity kept her eyes on her maid.
“Go.”
Caitrin nodded, grasping her brown skirts and rushing away.
Only when the maid was out of sight did Aerity turn her fearsome gaze on Lord Alvi.
“I can see you’re angry,” he said with care. “But to be fair nobody was ever to know—”
“In the future you will keep your dalliances outside these castle walls.” It was bound to get out eventually that there was no love between the two of them, and that her future husband would take other women. Aerity was not looking forward to the pity she would no doubt receive from people.
Lord Alvi nodded. “That is fair.”
A huff of unamused air blew from Aerity’s nose. “None of this is fair,” she said.
His eyebrows came together, and he stepped closer. “What do you expect from me, Princess? I am a man. You, my bride-to-be, are busy dreaming of a lawbreaking man who’s run afar, and your lovely cousin will not so much as glance at me.”
“You poor, dear thing.” Aerity moved closer, too, practically hissing. “I’m so very sorry my cousin and I are not meeting your needs—”
Footsteps echoed down the hall and they looked to see a guard checking out the noise.
“Leave us!” Aerity yelled.
The guard gave a stiff nod and turned on his heel.
“I am trying to learn your ways the best that I can, Princess, but my blood will always run cold—I am Ascomannian. Your Lochlan ways are not instinctive to me. I cannot understand why your society hinders its people in so many ways.”
In his voice was something akin to homesickness. Aerity could almost hear the mirrored sense of entrapment that she felt.
“What are you planning?” Lord Alvi asked. His eyes held distress. Always, this man confused her with his brutish instincts and untimely kindnesses.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“I disagree. You are my concern whether you want to be or not. If you are planning to put yourself into danger—”
“Do not fret about my well-being. I will seek Lieutenant Gillfin for help and companionship.”
“Ah, a Lochlan man you can trust,” he said as if hurt.
“Aye, that’s right,” Aerity said back. “A man who’s loyal and won’t make a fool of me someday.”
Lord Alvi grasped Aerity by her shoulders, his hands large and hot. His face was close to hers, and then, oh seas, she heard the towel fall to the floor. Her eyes stayed glued to his, and he seemed unaffected by the fact that he was now stark-naked. She closed her eyes.
“Kindly retrieve your towel.” She kept her eyes closed until she heard him shift the cloth back into place.
“It doesn’t have to be this way between us, Aerity.”
Her eyes burned when she opened them. She knew that she could try to make things work with this man. She could attempt to be affectionate. Perhaps over time her feelings for Paxton would lessen, if only she could put it from her mind that he was out there somewhere feeling the same way as she. But she didn’t think she could let Pax go without closure. And there was one other person whose feelings she couldn’t forget.
“What of Wyneth?” Aerity whispered.
His hold on her loosened and he dropped his arms. “I admit . . . she pervades many of my thoughts. But I swear, I will leave her be. I’m trying to respect your ways, though you Lochlans make everything more complicated than necessary with your unspoken rules.” He said this last bit with wry humor that Aerity could not bring herself to feel.
She swallowed hard. The whole situation would be simpler if she’d been raised to view marriage as Lord Alvi and his people did. Perhaps if her parents hadn’t instilled in her the value of love and monogamy, only to rip it away. But they each were who they were, and beliefs were not so easily changed.
Lief’s deep voice softened. He loomed before her, his body seeming confident while his eyes gave off nervousness.
“Could we at least try to make this work? I do care for your happiness, Princess.” His sincerity made her suck in her breath, only to catch the scent of honeysuckle.
“You still smell of my maid.”
He broke away, looking to the side with a regretful shake of his head.
“There is something I must do,” Aerity said. “Afterward . . .” She took another breath and looked into his disappointed eyes. “When I return, we shall see.”
“You’re going searching for him, aren’t you? The Lashed One.”
Aerity said nothing.
“It’s not safe,” he said. “And I don’t wish to seem cruel, but if he had wanted you, then—”
She gritted her teeth. “I don’t expect you to understand. But I cannot move forward until I see him one last time. I beg you to let me leave and not say a word to anyone. You of all people know the need to have something for yourself.”
Lord Alvi’s eyebrows suddenly knit sharply. “If you find him, what do you mean to do?”
Aerity smiled wickedly. “You’re not the only one with needs, Lord Alvi.”
Though Princess Aerity’s motives in finding Paxton were more about her heart than her body, the look of offense on Lord Alvi’s face as she walked away was something she’d forever cherish.