Chapter Two

Kylara cursed softly as she stumbled at the top of the grand staircase. More often than not, she wore comfortable flats rather than the four-and-a-half-inch strappy heels now tied around her ankles. She had made it down two flights of stairs and only had one more to go.

As she looked up from the shimmering pink fluff of her skirt, she saw her father and Prince Brandr coming from the direction of the King’s study. Both were dressed in their finest black ensembles.

“Come along, Kylara,” Queen Aveline murmured as she approached the grand staircase herself. She, like her daughter, wore a light pastel color – yellow, in her case, with golden beading. The queen shared remarkable resemblance to her daughter: the same facial structure, the same bronze hair, though the queen’s was starting to fade with age and her eyes were a lighter blue than her daughter’s.

“Yes, Mother,” Kylara said, following her mother’s example and gliding down the polished stone staircase.

They reached the bottom and joined the King and Prince where they waited to enter the Welcoming Feast.

Dian took his wife’s hands and kissed her knuckles. “Aveline, my darling, you look lovely,”

“And you, my sweet Dian,” Aveline replied.

Brandr remained silent, simply watching Kylara as she fidgeted with the ruffled tulle of her skirt. After a pointed look from Dian, Brandr approached her and bowed.

“Princess Kylara, words cannot describe how lovely you look,” he told her quietly. “I am fortunate that I will have the opportunity to dance with you.”

“Thank you, Prince Brandr,” Kylara replied, well aware that her father was watching her. “I, uhm, look forward to the dance.”

“Would you also be so gracious as to allow me the honor of escorting you inside?” he asked.

Kylara glanced at her parents before replying. “I would be delighted,” she said, accepting his offered arm.

Moments later, the four royals entered the ballroom to thunderous applause. In a few moments, the dance floor cleared, leaving Brandr and Kylara in the middle of it. Kylara looked up at him and took a deep breath as a mournful waltz began to waft through the room. Brandr bowed as Kylara dipped down in a curtsey. When she looked up at him, he was already offering his hand to lead her around the floor. Without missing a beat, she accepted and stepped into his arms waiting for him to start.

“I don’t know where the beat starts,” he whispered, glancing at her. “I barely know how to waltz.”

“What?” she whispered quickly.

“Help me? Can you back-lead?” he said, trying to make it look like he was simply waiting for the music to sink in by casting a false smile at the crowd.

“Step forward on your left foot,” she said, starting to tap the beat on his shoulder. “Now.”

After its somewhat rocky start, the waltz went very smoothly and Kylara was certain that Brandr knew more than he claimed. After she had back-led the first pass, she felt Brandr starting to take over and take her into more difficult steps. After a few minutes, the music faded and Brandr led her into a simple, traditional dip. He flashed her a mischievous grin before leading her to their seats.

As they sat down next to each other for dinner she looked over at him and smiled.

“Prince Brandr, you lied to me,” she murmured.

“Pardon?” he asked, blinking at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“You told me that you can barely waltz; if that were true, you would not have had us doing half-turns all around the floor,” she explained, smirking.

“I… well, I was hoping to make a good impression on you,” he replied, flushing slightly. “You make me nervous, if I am to be honest.”

“Why in the world would I make you nervous?” Kylara asked, genuinely smiling at him.

“What I said when I arrived this afternoon is true; rumors of your beauty do not do you justice. Any prince would be lucky to even have a chance of dancing with you. Can you blame me for hoping that I might fool you into liking me?”

“I suppose not,” she sighed, automatically reaching for her glass as her father stood to make a toast.

Brandr remained silent until the toast was finished. “For someone whose father has such a tight hold on her you certainly know how to take control of a difficult situation,” he murmured.

“Well, you know how to make use of a second impression,” Kylara replied, smirking.

That night, Kylara went to bed with a smile on her face. Prince Brandr hadn’t turned out to be too terribly bad, and he had managed to spend most of the evening making her laugh. True, her feet ached and she still hated how uncomfortable her dress was, but the man that her father was going to force her to spend time with was one that she could at least be friends with.

Captain Nejem quietly closed the door behind Baqir and helped him into one of the beds before going to check on Brandr in the largest bedroom of their suite.

“Are you alright, Sire?” he asked.

“Such a pity,” Brandr sighed, leaning back against his pillows. “Princess Kylara is one of the most interesting women I have ever met, and I have to kill her.”

“Not necessarily…”

“Her father wishes to see her body before he allows me my half of our deal. It is unfortunate, but he knows that I have some talent in magic, already, from the potion I sent to him for his wife.”

“Could you not simply illusion a dummy?”

Brandr glared at him. “Perception is tricky, particularly with stubborn, headstrong people like Dian.”

“I am sure, Sire, that you are capable of rising to the challenge if that becomes the only option.”

“What does she matter to you, Tariq? You do not know her, and she means nothing to you.”

“I have not heard you laugh so much and so genuinely since…” Nejem started.

“Since Femke figured out my secrets and I had to kill her?” Brandr finished bitterly.

“Well… yes,” Nejem replied quietly. “Princess Kylara could be a good match for you. She might even be strong enough to restore your heart. Surely you cannot enjoy murder so much, now?”

“Leave it alone, Captain Nejem.” For a moment, Brandr’s eyes clouded over with shadows. “It is my choice to make.”

“As you wish, Sire,” Captain Nejem said, turning to leave his master’s room.

Kylara turned over in her sleep, the golden memories of that evening tarnishing quickly as she felt a knife slide against her throat, warmth dribbling down her neck. Everything grew hazy as she collapsed to the ground and her hands were tied behind her back. She saw two figures in combat nearby for several minutes before the smaller figure was slammed against the wall. The larger quickly came over to her and something bright shone in her eyes. By the time she could see, again, the smaller figure was running at her, drawing a sword and preparing to strike. The figure that had saved her—a man, she realized—jumped in the way and took the blade in the stomach. He was just turning to look back at her when she woke.

“What in the world is going on with me?” she groaned to herself. “Who was that…?”

“Your Highness, I must ask that you remain quiet,” a deep, masculine voice said from the darkest corner of her room.

“Who’s there?” she snapped, pulling her covers over the low neckline of her nightdress. “Who are you?”

“An ally… I hope,” he replied. “I have come to warn you that your father means you harm.”

“What else is new? Who are you?” Kylara demanded.

“Your father brought Brandr here to kill you. I wish to stop him, and in order to do that, I have to get you away from here,” the man said quietly.

“Show me your face,” Kylara said firmly. “Tell me who you are.”

“I am an ally. For now, that is all you need to know. Do not trust Brandr, I beg you. He seems nice but that is only a cover for his true nature; you have not even seen his true face.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” she asked.

“I am offering you a better life, Princess Kylara. If you want it, then you can tell me in two days. I will return then to find out.”

“Hold on a minute! What’s going on?” she asked, scrambling to light her lamp.

By the time she had it lit, the man was gone. She cursed to herself and fell back against her pillows, wishing she could get a full night’s sleep.

Kylara rolled over and pushed herself onto her knees, dimly realizing that she had just turned nineteen. Cold sunlight filtered through a crack in the curtains, and the clock showed she’d slept longer than she should have; it was already nine o’clock in the morning. As she slipped from her bed, she noticed a letter that had been dropped on her nightstand. She picked it up and looked over the handwriting. She furrowed her brow, unable to recognize the scrawl. Carefully she unfolded the note and read the first line. The letter slipped from her hand almost immediately.

Yes, it happened.

Princess Kylara, I apologize for intruding the other night, but you need fear nothing from me. My intent is to protect you, and my warning was accurate. I suspect that it will take some time for you to adjust to the idea and believe me, but the sooner you know what awaits you, the better. At this point, it would be unwise to reveal my identity to you, though I realize how suspicious that seems. It is solely for reasons of security, I assure you.

If there is somewhere we can meet outside the Castle grounds, please let me know – just leave a note in your room before your birthday ball this evening and label it “TIN.”

The choice is yours, Princess Kylara.

Sincerely,

TIN

After the initial shock had worn off, Kylara reread the letter, considering what she might do. She was still deep in thought when there was a knock at her door.

“Who is it?” she called dazedly, barely glancing up from the letter.

“It’s me.” It was Marella. “Aren’t you up yet?”

“Come on in,” Kylara replied, folding the letter. “I’m up, just not ready.”

“Well, happy birthday, Kylie!” Marella sighed, sweeping across the room to hug the princess. “Though it looks like I’m not the first,” she added, indicating the letter in her hand.

“Actually, you are the first. I’m not quite sure what this is or who it’s from,” Kylara murmured, handing Marella the letter so that she could read it. “He apparently came into my room the other night to warn me about Brandr. I don’t really see what the big deal is, I mean, Brandr is actually pretty nice.”

“This guy came into your room? Kylara what’s going on?” Marella asked after she finished reading the note. When Kylara didn’t reply, Marella sat down on the bed. “I think it’s time you told me what’s been going on with you.”

Kylara stood and moved toward her closet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been acting strangely for months, now, and you told me that you haven’t been sleeping well. Tell me the truth.”

“Marella, it doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me any-” she started, turning back to her friend.

“Don’t just assume that I won’t believe you. We’ve been friends for years. I have told you everything – things that no one else knows, and I never once hesitated.”

“Alright, alright. I… I’ve been having these dreams,” Kylara explained, reaching for the nearest journal on the shelf next to her bed. “Since my last birthday, I’ve had a dream almost every night. More often than not, they’ve been coming true.”

Kylara handed the journal to Marella and waited for her to discount what she’d just said. Marella flicked through the later pages and as she read the crease between her brows deepened.

“Kylara… are you sure about this? I mean, you could have told me about this sooner. Why didn’t you?” she asked instead.

Kylara gave her a skeptical look. “If this were happening to you, what would you have done?”

“Good point. Did you have a dream that night?”

Kylara nodded. “Right before TIN showed up. This… this girl was attacking me – I didn’t really see where we were since my attention was focused on other things, but… well… she was really frightening.”

“Think we should tell Riley about this?” Marella asked.

“About me seeing the future or about the guy trying to get me to leave?”

“The second one- you know he’d never believe you about the dream thing,” she replied.

“I don’t know; I don’t even know what I should do, Marella. I mean, I hate it here and I want another life, but how do I know if I can trust this guy? What if he just wants to ransom me back to my parents?”

“Maybe we should meet with him? I mean he said he wanted to, so why not? I could be there to make sure that he’s not just going to kidnap you or anything.”

“Yeah, maybe… what happens if we can trust him, though? Should I leave?”

“First of all, Kylara, if it turns out that we can trust this guy, then you’re not going with him alone in case something goes wrong,” Marella said firmly. “I’ll come with you.”

“No. Marella, I can’t let you do that.”

“You can, and you will.”

“But you’re not a prisoner of your own life; why would you want to leave your mother like that?” Kylara asked.

“Look, it sucks and there’s no way that I’m not going to miss my mom. I’ve seen what’s been going on in your life since your mother let Dian take over, and I’ve been worried for you for a long time. I can send her a letter from the road, and I’m sure she’ll forgive me some day.”

Kylara pulled her friend into a tight embrace. “Why are you such a good friend to me?”

That evening, Kylara left a note for TIN saying that she would like to meet with him. She left the note on her bedside table just before she and Marella headed downstairs for the ball in her honor.

The moment her door closed, several lamps flickered and died, leaving one corner in shadow. A figure shrouded in all black melted out of it and swept over the floor with barely a sound. A callused, brown hand slipped out of the black folds and touched the stationary, noting the delicate penmanship that denoted his initials.

Slowly, he opened the letter and a smirk slid onto his masked face. “She’s being cautious…” he murmured to himself. “Good for her.”

He turned back toward the shadows, the letter in hand, and slipped back to wherever it was that he had come from.

Kylara strode down the stairs, slightly more confident this time because her heels were considerably shorter than those she had worn for Prince Brandr’s welcoming ball. The gown was a deep, navy blue, glimmering every time Kylara passed a light; the color reminded her of the night sky. She remembered going camping with Marella in the garden when she was younger and her mother paid more attention to what was really going on. Her hair was swept up into a small, elegant braided bun, and she wore thin lace gloves that ended just above her elbows.

Marella was at her side with a borrowed green gown—to match her eyes—that hung slightly loose on her petite frame. It was as close as Kylara could manage for her dear, but not rich, friend given their difference in stature and build. She was not quite as elegant as the princess, though she certainly looked more respectable than usual with her pale blonde hair back in a tight braid.

“Marella, do you suppose we’re doing the right thing by meeting with that guy?” Kylara asked as they descended the first staircase toward the public area of the castle.

“Yeah. After all, it means a new start if he’s trustworthy, and if not, then we can turn him in to the authorities.”

“Yeah,” Kylara agreed half-heartedly.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Kylie,” Marella pointed out, stopping her gently.

“I want to… I just don’t know if I’m ready,” Kylara replied uncertainly.

“Maybe you don’t have to decide immediately?” Marella sighed. “It’s not like you have to make up your mind instantly. It’s not like he’ll be able to kidnap you all by himself—not with me there as a witness, anyway.”

“But Brandr is shockingly nice,” she protested. “I don’t see how anyone could accuse him of being anything but.”

“Maybe TIN can give us some proof of what he’s saying?”

“And if not, we can report him,” Kylara added with a smirk as they arrived at the bottom of the grand staircase.

“I do hope that you are not speaking of me, Princess Kylara,” Prince Brandr said, turning to face her from the doors of the Ballroom. His gaze alighted onto Marella and hardened slightly. “I do not believe I have been introduced to your friend.”

“Of course. Prince Brandr of Rahikmat, this is my very good friend, Marella Landvik. Her mother is the head chef here,” Kylara said.

“Miss Landvik, it is a pleasure to meet any of Princess Kylara’s friends, though I had not expected to meet an enchantress such as yourself. Perhaps you might honor me with a dance, later on?”

Marella glanced at Kylara before answering. “Th-thank you, Your Highness. I would be honored to dance with you this evening, so long as my friend does not mind.”

“Oh, here we go,” the princess muttered. “Riley just arrived.”

Brandr glanced between them. “I think I may have missed something?”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” Kylara said. “I am afraid that a friend of ours has just arrived, and he is stubborn about not following protocol.” As Kylara explained the matter, Marella moved to intercept Riley and beg him to behave himself.

“Surely as a friend of yours he would understand-”

“No,” Riley snapped, his voice carrying far too easily in the near-empty hall. “I don’t give a damn about his rank. He’s just going to talk down at us and prove that he’s just like all the other royals we’ve ever had to deal with because of Kylara.”

Brandr turned and strode over to Riley. Marella was trying desperately to calm her friend’s unreasonable temper and hadn’t noticed the prince’s approach. Kylara was similarly startled and hurried to catch up.

“Good evening,” Brandr said, putting on his best smile. “You must be Princess Kylara’s friend. I apologize, but I do not believe that I caught your name.”

“His name is Riley Mason,” Marella said gently. “Riley, this is His Royal Highness, Prince Brandr.”

“A pleasure; I do hope that you will be sitting with us. I would love to hear your opinions on relations between the classes.”

Riley sneered at the direction from which the voice came. “Why? In need of a joke to tell at court?”

“Absolutely not. I wish to institute a program of courtesy that the nobles of my country must obey in regards to the people who actually do the work,” the prince explained.

For once, Riley was caught off guard and stood with his mouth agape. Kylara and Marella were similarly dumbstruck, though they managed to keep their mouths appropriately closed.

“Perhaps,” Kylara said before either man could say more, “we should go inside? I think it rude to keep the guests of my birthday banquet waiting.”

Brandr immediately agreed and offered his arm to escort the princess inside while Marella coiled her arm around Riley’s so that she could lead him inside.

“Well played, Prince Brandr,” Kylara whispered as the guards stationed outside the banquet hall began to open the doors.

The rest of the evening, Brandr spent making Kylara and Marella laugh and forming something of an unholy alliance with Riley. As Kylara watched Brandr dance with Marella, she had a hard time imagining him to be anything like TIN had described. However, Kylara knew that she should keep her bases covered and meet with the note-writer, anyway.

As the song ended, Brandr led Marella off the floor, both with wide smiles on their faces. Kylara looked up from her thoughts and grinned at them, though the smile barely touched her eyes. She was torn between the decision she had already made to meet with TIN and the kind, sweet, understanding prince she was getting to know.

“Princess Kylara, are you alright? Have I been neglecting you?” Brandr asked, helping Marella into her seat.

“Oh, I am fine. I tend to get lost in my own mind at events like this,” Kylara replied, shrugging slightly.

“Would you perhaps like to go for a walk? I have yet to see the famed gardens of your home,” he offered.

“They are much prettier by daylight and in the spring,” Kylara said, smirking at him.

“You did not answer my question, Princess,” Brandr said, flashing another charming smile. “Would you accompany me for a walk in the garden?”

Kylara blushed slightly. “It is rather cold this time of year.”

“Is that not what cloaks are for?” he pointed out. “Please, Highness? I will not fall in love with the gardens before I fall in love with you, if that is your concern.”

She choked on her drink. “What? Why would I worry about you falling in love with me in the first place?” Kylara asked. “Truth be told, I am nothing at all special, and my parents do not exactly care for my pastimes. I am not the sort of woman that anyone falls in love with.”

“I assure you, Highness, that is by no means true,” Brandr replied. “A woman like you is quite easy to love.”

“Surely you jest, Prince Brandr,” Kylara replied, blushing further. The phrase sounded oddly familiar coming out of his mouth, but she knew he had not said it before.

“Not all that much. I ask again in the hopes of receiving a definitive answer: Would you like to accompany me on a walk through your lovely gardens?” Brandr asked.

“I suppose I could,” Kylara sighed. “With an invitation like that, I doubt that I could refuse.”

“At last, a straight answer!” Brandr beamed. “Miss Marella, if you would excuse us?”

“Certainly. I should get Riley home, anyway. Kylara I’ll see you tomorrow for that thing…” Marella said, giving the princess a hug before she left. “I’ll get the dress back to you soon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kylara replied. “It might take me a while to get there, tomorrow. Don’t worry if I’m late.”

“Good night, Kylara,” Marella said, nodding.

“Goodnight,” the princess replied, getting to her feet to join Brandr.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Marella,” Brandr added, bowing to her. “Perhaps we shall see more of each other while I am here.”

“Perhaps,” Marella agreed.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3