As we continue through the woods toward Solwyck, Caelen is silent. Every so often he squints at my pack, and I know he is desperate to use the mirror again. His gaze meets mine and the dark circles under his eyes tempt me to throw it far away into the woods where he cannot find it.
Knowing that it drains him, I would rather he not look at it ever again.
When we crest the hill and see the city of Solwyck laid out before us, I stare at it in awe. I heard of the destruction wrought by the dragon, but it is not as severe as I imagined. Although smoke stains the white stone buildings, we do not find the smoldering ash and ruin I expected. The people are busy rebuilding.
My gaze sweeps to the castle. The shimmering, pearlescent, white stone structure sits proudly atop the cliff wall overlooking the obsidian sands and the crystalline blue sea. Its spiraling towers stretch proudly toward the pale blue sky overhead.
The last of the sun’s rays reflect off the silver rooftops as the bold, blue and silver banner of Solwyck on the tallest tower waves in the wind.
From what I can tell, the castle appears to have survived the attack with very little damage, and I’m glad.
“Solwyck is not as much in ruin as I’d heard,” Caelen murmurs, echoing my thoughts. “The people are already rebuilding.”
“Yes, it’s wonderful.” I smile. “Let us hurry. The sun is already beginning to set, and I want to reach the castle before dark.”
He nods, and we continue on the path.
“I remember visiting this place when I was a child.” A wistful smile crests my lips. “My mother was cousin to the queen, Halla and Gerold’s mother. I thought the city was a shining beacon next to the ocean; the castle reminded me of a sparkling pearl.” I turn to Caelen. “Did you ever see it before now?”
“Only a few times. Our people are not friends.”
“Of course,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
After all we’ve been through together, I forget that before our wedding, we were practically enemies. His kind do not normally like humans, nor do mine like his.
As if reading my thoughts, he turns to me. “You should walk ahead of me. I doubt High Elves are welcome here, and I do not want to draw any attention to you.”
An idea occurs to me. “Here.” I hold out the cloak Malak gave me. “You should wear this now.”
He frowns.
I gesture to the city. “Solwyck’s population is mostly human and the Merfolk who live along the harbor. You’re right. You will stand out without this. Malak said it would conceal the wearer’s appearance. Now put it on.”
Reluctantly, he takes the garment from me, and I watch in wonder as it conceals his true form. He could pass as completely human. His glittering green eyes are now pale and dim, and his ears are missing their pointed tips. I blink at him. “Is this what it did for me? Completely change my appearance?”
He shrugs. “I do not know. I can see beyond this magic to your true form.”
“Naturally.” I purse my lips in mock irritation. “Yet another way we are inferior to your kind.”
“That is not what I meant,” he quickly adds.
My lips curve up in a faint smile. “I know. I was just teasing you.”
His eyes search mine, something akin to hope flashing briefly behind them as his mouth quirks up slightly at the edges.
He follows me through the streets, where people study us warily. After the dragon attack, I suppose Solwyck does not get as many visitors as it used to. This city used to be a bustling hub of trade. Considering the impressive rebuilding efforts, I suspect it will not be very long before Solwyck is restored to the prosperous place it once was.
When we reach the castle near the edge of the water, I take Caelen’s hand and pull him to a halt. “Let me do the talking, all right?”
He frowns. “What are you—”
I put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Trust me.”
He nods and allows me to lead him to the palace gates.
The tall spires of the castle stretch toward the sky like giant, iridescent pillars holding up the clouds. The gates are perfectly polished blue metal, with depictions of the sea twisted into the gaps in a lovely display.
“Halt!” one guard calls. “What business do you have here?”
I stand tall and proud. “I am Princess Lyana of Eryadon, and I have come to visit my dear cousins, King Gerold and Princess Halla. Inform them that I have arrived.”
The two guards blocking the gates share a shocked glance.
“Princess Lyana?” asks the first. He eyes Caelen, but when he sees nothing but a human beneath his cloak, his shoulders relax. “Where is the High Elf Prince who stole you? How did you escape that filth?”
Caelen bristles beside me but says nothing.
I clear my throat. “Will you announce my arrival or just stand here asking questions?”
A flush creeps across his face, and they scramble to open the gates. One guard leads us into the palace as I clutch Caelen’s hand.
He leans toward me and whispers, “Is this wise?”
“Halla and Gerold are my cousins. Once we speak to them, I believe they will help us.”
“I hope you are right,” he murmurs.
I do too. It seems word has spread that Caelen stole me, when nothing could be further from the truth.
They lead us to a garden at the back of the castle overlooking the sea. Several vibrant, flowering bushes with large white and pink blooms line the pathway.
I recognize Halla immediately, seated on a bench, with her back to us. Her long red hair waves in the wind as she rests her head on the shoulder of a dark-haired man, who sits with his arm around her waist. They gaze out at the ocean. I squint at the sheen of his skin—or rather, his scales.
The scale pattern disappears beneath the fabric of his tunic and climbs up his neck, flesh-colored but easily visible. I blink several times when I notice the pointed tips of his ears, a bit sharper than Caelen’s, and the short, black claws that cap his fingers.
Whatever he is, this man is not human.
“Princess Halla.” The guard bows low before her. “Your cousin, Princess Lyana of Eryadon, is here to see you.”
Wide-eyed, Halla and the man turn to me. Her face splits in a wide grin. She pushes herself off the bench and shakily stands. The strange man places a supporting hand beneath her elbow to help her. Her steps are slow and her legs appear weak as she walks toward me with great effort.
I heard Halla had been injured slaying the dragon that attacked their city. It left her paralyzed from the waist down. It is encouraging to see that she is able to walk again, even if her stride is not smooth. My mouth drifts open when I notice the slight swell of her abdomen.
She is with child.
I turn back to her companion. His glowing, blue eyes are unnatural—he is most definitely not human.
“Lyana? Is it really you?” She throws her arms around my neck. “I was so worried. We heard about the High Elves attacking the palace. Queen Rina sent word that they killed your father and Prince Caelen stole you away.” She pulls back, tears in her eyes. “How did you escape?”
“Lyana?” a man’s voice calls out and I recognize Gerold right away. With his short red hair and bright blue eyes, anyone would know he and Halla were siblings. He rushes toward me, embracing me warmly. “Thank goodness you are safe. We heard about what happened and feared the worst. We—”
The man next to Halla inhales sharply, then snarls as he pulls her behind him.
His glowing blue eyes burn with anger as he glares at Caelen. “What are you?” he growls. “Stop hiding behind magic and show your true face.”
Caelen removes his hood, and the magic falls away, revealing his true form. “I am Prince Caelen of Rivenyl.”
Halla and Gerold both gasp.
Two guards raise their weapons, but I quickly move to Caelen’s side to shield him.
Gerold holds out a hand to his guards. “Wait!”
I take Caelen’s hand firmly in mine. “He is my husband. It is not as you’ve heard. Please, allow me to explain.”
Halla gestures to the strange man. “This is my husband, Prince Errik of the Mer.”
“You are Mer?” Caelen asks, his gaze traveling over the man’s shape and down to his very human-looking legs. “How is this possible?”
“It seems we both have much to discuss,” Halla says.
As I explain Fredrik’s attack and my stepmother’s deception, Gerold, Halla and Errik stare at me in shock.
Gerold clears his throat. “You are certain Queen Rina is a goblin?”
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. “I thought she truly loved us,” I tell them, remembering the three of us together. “Father was so excited about the baby. I was too.” My voice quavers.
Caelen takes my hand, squeezing it gently. Anger replaces my sadness as I think on her lies. “She tried to convince me to marry Fredrik. I’m sure it was their plan to kill both Father and me. But when Caelen arrived, they changed their plans… blaming the High Elves for Father’s death and my disappearance.”
Gerold gives me a pained smile. “I am sorry for all you have been through, Lyana. But know that you are safer here with us. We will protect you.”
