At the same moment that Lennox rolled over uneasily on his thin mattress, the wisps of fabric around Annika’s four-poster bed billowed in the early-morning breeze. The weather was turning. Lennox, used to harsh winds, wasn’t too bothered, but Annika, whose window had been mistakenly left open, was starting to tremble.
The chilly air soaked into her skin, finally waking her, and she sat up for a moment, scanning her room with careful eyes. She’d never cared for the cold, but now it had a new effect on her. Any chill dragged her back to the dungeon of Vosino Castle. She was capable of more than anyone had guessed, though that didn’t mean all her fears had been erased. They floated through her head as she lay back down, waiting for the sun to come and warm her.
Lennox, however, was already watching the sun creep over the horizon, the fog of ocean spray keeping it from being too bright. As he had every day since Annika’s escape, he pictured her cornered in the woods, crouched and ready to strike. He thought that, even with her uncanny likeness to her mother, he hadn’t been able to predict her moves, or guess what she was capable of.
He went over to his desk and pulled out the lock of ash-brown hair. Talking with her, even arguing with her, left him feeling seen in ways no one else in his life had managed. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Her people were responsible for the loss of his father and the fracturing of his family, and one day his army would march upon their lands.
But she liked Cassiopeia. She held a sword. And her hair, he remembered, smelled of rosewater.
He didn’t want to destroy her. But he would.
Meanwhile, Annika sat up in bed again, sighing. Creeping over to the window, she closed the panes quietly, securing them with the lock. She still shivered, and, though there were plenty of blankets, she crept down to the chest at the foot of her bed.
On top of childhood dresses and her mother’s sketches was a jet-black cape with two long ties. She pulled it out and wrapped it around herself, using it to shield her body from the cold. Though Lennox had been her captor, he had also been unexpectedly generous. He could have killed her.
But he hadn’t.
He said he would come for his kingdom, but what did that even mean? This palace was hers, had always been. She drew the cape closer. If she inhaled, she could smell something like the ocean on it.
He’d saved her. He’d clothed her. In a strange way, he’d shown more concern for her than her own fiancé had.
But he’d taken her mother. And if he marched on Kadier, she would fight him. For everything she ever loved, she’d have to end him.
Annika and Lennox both held the things they’d taken from the other, knowing the next time they met, one of them would die.
After escaping from Lennox, I’d stayed in my room for an entire week. I had a large cut and a few scrapes that needed to heal—and so many things to think through away from prying eyes.
I’d been making peace with my mother’s death. There was a sense of closure in knowing for certain, and, while I suspected we’d never recover her body, I was going to push for a proper funeral as soon as we were able.
The bigger issue at hand was that there was an army out there, poised to invade. The number of guards around the palace was increased. And not just here, but at the border as well. Should they come, we were as prepared as we could be.
But for me personally, the most important thing was that I’d made a decision. This time I would not relent.
I had a clear understanding of just what I meant to my people. When I returned from what seemed like certain death, I’d been gifted six horses, exotic foods, and so many flowers I’d never need to leave my room to walk in a garden again. And the letters! I read them all, each one full of praise, some of them tearstained from their joy and concern over my life.
I’d spent so much time worrying about my people, caring about them. Now I knew it was fully reciprocated.
“That’s perfect, Noemi,” I said, admiring myself in the mirror.
“Won’t he be angry, my lady?” she asked, placing the simple crown on my head.
“That’s kind of the point.” I turned, sweeping long locks of hair over my shoulder. It was a simple statement, but an obvious one.
“He was knocked unconscious,” she pointed out, though not very assertively.
I shook my head. “It wasn’t that,” I assured her. Every minute of my kidnapping was a crystal clear memory. The pain of the sword as Lennox cut my arm, the heartbreak when my guards sacrificed themselves rather than allow themselves to be used by their enemy, the hint of a smirk on Lennox’s face when he found me in the woods. I couldn’t forget it if I wanted to. And I knew that I could never respect Nickolas.
“If being knocked out was his only crime, then I’d be in the wrong. But he didn’t even look back at me when they first appeared. He ran away and left me to follow. Any decent gentleman would have at least glanced over his shoulder, regardless of rank. I don’t think there’s any way to escape this marriage, but he has forfeited the right to control me.”
She sighed, clasping her hands. “For someone who has noble blood, his behavior was a bit shocking. Your brother would never do such a thing.”
I sighed. “Noble blood or not, he shouldn’t have done it. And you’re right, Escalus would have died before he let me be captured.” I turned to stare out the window.
“Is it just his behavior that has you upset, my lady? You look sad.” Noemi’s hands moved up, still clasped but below her chin.
“I am, I suppose.”
She bridged the space between us, whispering when she spoke. “You met the man who killed your mother. You watched your countrymen die. You were interrogated. You escaped from a dungeon, and then you ran home on foot. I know many grown men who’d have failed in your shoes; it’s all right to be sad or angry or anything else you might feel.”
“It’s not all that,” I confessed.
“What, then?”
I closed my eyes, remembering the change in his tone after his questions and threats had ended. “He asked me about my favorite constellation. The boy who captured me. And then I asked him his.”
Noemi’s eyes widened. “How could you even speak to him?”
I nodded. “I know, I know. And that’s what bothers me. I know things about this person now—that he is a person at all. Now I know that he has been forced into a box of his own. You should have heard how he spoke about stars, the way he used his words in general. I know he has blue eyes in a shade somewhere between ice and sky.” I swallowed hard. “But he killed my mother. He wants my home and my father’s crown and everything I’ve spent my life serving.”
Her eyes were sympathetic. “He cannot be allowed that.”
I shook my head, staring blankly ahead. “He won’t. I’m willing to marry Nickolas for the sake of my country, for the sake of my brother’s future. And now, I’ll fight off Lennox for the same reasons.”
She shivered. “As many times as you’ve said it, it’s hard to believe he’s real and has a name.”
“Oh, he very much does,” I said, shrugging into my dress for the day. I couldn’t tell her—or anyone—that his name had been echoing in my head since I’d heard it, sometimes in fear, sometimes in anger, and, most horrifyingly, sometimes in gratitude.
I swept into the dining room with my head high. I didn’t often wear my crown, but today it felt fitting. The men in my life were already seated at the head table. Father, of course, sat center in his high-backed chair, surveying his food as if it had somehow offended him.
To his left, my beloved brother, Escalus. His eyes were shining, his smile welcoming, and his demeanor everything I should have been able to expect from my father.
To my father’s right was an empty seat for me, and beside that was dear old Nickolas. All angles and lines, he looked sullen as he chomped on his food. It was mid-bite that he looked up and noticed me striding across the room with my hair flowing behind me, my eyes locked on his, daring him to object.
“Good morning, brother,” I said as I rounded the table, and then I even bent down to kiss my father’s cheek. He was as surprised by the action as I was, looking at me with a perplexed scowl.
I spooned food onto my plate and settled into my place. It took several moments before my fiancé was brave enough to speak.
“It’s very nice to see you up and about again,” he ventured tentatively.
I smiled but didn’t speak. I’d barred everyone but Escalus and the doctor from my room. If Father came by, no one said so, but Nickolas came thrice and was firmly turned away by Noemi.
“My pet, I do not wish to start an argument our first morning back together, but I do expect you to put your hair up after breakfast,” he whispered, trying to make it sound like a gentle request. Unfortunately for him, not even that would work on me now.
I turned slowly, staring at him with chilly eyes, and he was smart enough to lean away.
“First of all, if you ever call me ‘my pet’ again, I will shove a fork down your throat. Second, I never agreed to put my hair up. You demanded it, and I felt I had to follow, but now more than ever, I want to look like my mother. You will not take that from me. And third, how fascinating that you still think you can tell me to do anything.”
He balked, looking at me as if I’d just branded him with a hot poker. Which I was considering if he said anything else foolish.
Father shook his head. “Such childish behavior,” he complained. “Your mother—”
“Mother would have agreed with me,” I shot back quickly and with finality. “And if you had spoken to me in such a manner on the topic in her presence, she would have been ashamed of you.” This wounded him. I could see that. “And she never would have put me in a position where I was dependent upon such a person in the first place.”
He looked at me, measuring my resolve.
“Don’t force my hand, Annika,” he warned. “It won’t be pretty.”
“As if the last time was?” I lowered my voice, leaning in.
I saw his jaw tense.
“I am not attempting to back out of my engagement. Our people will need stability now more than ever. But you, sir,” I said, turning to Nickolas, “should not anticipate being allowed in my presence more than once or twice preceding our wedding, which will happen when I am ready to schedule it. And after we are married, expect to keep your distance. You may take my freedom, but you will not be permitted to touch my joy.”
I stood, not finished with my breakfast but not willing to linger, and marched from the room. I felt the way my hand clasped the edge of my dress to sweep it behind me, and I remembered my mother doing the exact same thing. And I thought, I am hers.
