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  “They expect nothing, my lady, but for you to be…you.”

  I looked dubiously at the castle. There was something strange about this place, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Maybe, despite the threat of war, it was the peace and contentment that seemed to blanket this kingdom like a drug. Or maybe it was the way the people moved with a natural grace and elegance that few on Earth Realm could duplicate. There was something downright…magical.

  “That’s not true. They expect me to work a miracle, don’t they? To save this world. Save this kingdom.”

  He didn’t respond because I was right. A long moment went by, but still I didn’t move. Brynjar scratched at the scruff upon his face, as he stared hard at the castle. Was he truly seeing the palace and what it represented for the first time? Did he realize what I was giving up by renouncing my simple New York life, what it meant for me to walk through those massive double doors?

  “All will be well,” he said softly. “When you enter that castle, it will come back. It will seem natural.”

  I hoped so, but I had my doubts. I took a deep breath, the sweet scent of roses wafted on the breeze, welcome, comforting. At least flowers smelled the same here. We’d rented a small cottage surrounded by roses in upstate New York when I’d been ten. It had been the last time I’d experienced a somewhat normal, happy life. We’d stayed there all of six months before we’d been kicked out for not paying our rent. Sarah had blamed me. What if this never felt natural? What if this never seemed normal? What if I couldn’t save them?

  He quirked a brow. “Are you ready?”

  Steeling my nerves, I nudged my horse forward. “Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

  We started onto a driveway of crushed stone. My stomach twisted so tight I thought I might vomit. The sound of horse hooves crunching over gravel, and clanking of metal armor drowned out the sound of birds and the warm breeze whispering secrets from the ocean. But it couldn’t drown out the sound of my thumping heart.

  I felt surrounded. Watched. Judged. I was the head of this crew; this motley crew of men. They were waiting for me to tell them what to do, to give the order. To save them. It was insane. Ridiculous.

  “Your riding skills are rather good, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  I gave him a shaky smile. He was trying to make conversation. To put me at ease? “I don’t mind. Although I’m not sure why I ride so well. I’ve barely sat on a horse.”

  “A natural. Most Acadian are.”

  I shrugged, unsure. It felt like a loaded comment. They claimed I was Acadian, and they were so ready to accept me as such. Shouldn’t I feel something riding up the drive? Excitement, relief, happiness?

  I studied the many windows that ran across the front of the estate, focusing on the large round window in the middle: a stained-glass creation of a coat of arms. A unicorn raised on hind legs, swords crossed in front of it. The closer we got the more my nerves clamored, warning I didn’t belong here. There had to be at least a hundred people watching, maybe more. They’d made a mistake. My fingers tightened around the reins. My horse skittered to the side, sensing my unease, his nostrils flaring.

  “It will be alright,” Brynjar said softly.

  I couldn’t seem to manage a response.

  When we reached the drive, a man on either side stepped forward. They lifted trumpets, the sound startling. A flock of sparrows burst from a small elm not far away. My mount snorted, shaking its head as if in annoyance.

  “Shhh,” I whispered, rubbing my hand down the animal’s neck.

  From the manicured gardens, a variety of people pressed closer, eager to witness our arrival. Women in long, colorful dresses, men in dark suits…they looked like something from a Jane Austen movie. The hushed sense of awe that followed me was as intimidating as it was embarrassing.

  I didn’t like the fact that they looked at me like they expected so much. No one had ever expected anything of me. Not my mother, not my teachers. No one. We made it to the steps. Those white double doors loomed tall and intimidating before us. Bryn slid from his horse and I followed, my feet hitting the drive, my knees trembling.

  The massive double doors that were carved with woodland creatures creaked open. I froze, pressed to the warm, solid belly of my horse. An older woman wearing a long white gown appeared on the threshold. Her dark brown gaze landed on me and held. She looked like an angel, and I was keenly aware of the dirt that marked my face, the sweat that clung to my body.

  There was no judgment in her kind gaze. In fact, there was something compelling about her that I couldn’t quite explain. Something that captured my attention, eased the anxiety. It was as she smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes, that it hit me: I felt welcomed by her. I felt welcomed in a way that I’d never felt in my life. For the first time in a long, long while, that tightness that had taken up permanent residence in my chest eased slightly.

  “My dear, you’re finally home.” She moved carefully down the steps, as if afraid of scaring me off. “I am your great aunt Millie.”

  “You are?” I looked to Bryn. He gave a curt nod. There were so many things I wanted to say, to ask, but it wasn’t the right time. Not here on the front stoop in front of hundreds of people. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You must be exhausted.” Reaching me, she took my hands, her fingers warm and soft and smooth with age. “Come. I have your room ready.”

  We started up the steps. She was small and fragile in a way that made me feel like a giant, although I was only average in height. Her long, dark hair was wavy and streaked with gray. She was sophisticated, loving and bold all at once.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, feeling completely overwhelmed. I could sense the many people at my back, watching, waiting. The urge to bolt inside overwhelmed me.

  The sudden yip of a dog interrupted our conversation. A small ball of fluff hurled across the foyer, and jumped at my shins. Smiling, I knelt to allow the tiny pup to smell my hands. Instead, she jumped up into my arms, covering my face with wet kisses. I laughed, resting her against my side and standing.

  “Hello there,” I murmured. She settled against me, as if she’d known me for years. “What a sweet dog.”

  “Well, Sadie gives her approval, and she rarely likes anyone.” Aunt Millie took the dog from my arms. “Go on, my dear, I know you must be exhausted. We will introduce you to our people and explain things to them later. As you can see, they are most curious.”

  When I dared to look back, it was to see Bryn walking the horse, leaving me to deal with my new life alone. The abandonment hit me hard. I had to resist the urge to call out to him. I’d grown used to his quiet, but calm presence. I felt safe when he was near, and I hated myself for it.

  Determined, I reminded myself that I hadn’t ever relied on anyone, and followed Aunt Millie up the steps. The large, two story foyer held a massive crystal chandelier hanging from above. The walls were painted a pristine white, blinding almost in their brilliancy, while the floor was black and white marble. I paused for one long moment, taking in the elegant and rich façade, letting it wash over me.

  Instead of feeling excited, I only felt despair. I might have been welcome here, but how could I possibly belong? Paintings of families decorated the walls. So many people I didn’t remember, didn’t know. My family.

  “Your parents,” my aunt said, smiling warmly as she gave a nod in the direction of a painting on the far wall.

  A couple holding a baby. The man wore a debonair expression, his arm around a little boy, while the woman smiled down warmly at the baby in her lap. Intrigued, I stepped closer. A boy? Did they have a son? Did I have a brother? No one had mentioned him, which meant…he was probably dead. Did they look like me? Not really. My skin was too pale, and their eyes were a rich brown. But there was the hint of a smile, a sparkle in my mother’s eyes, that said she would have been a kind, caring woman.

  Although my father looked elegantly aloof, there was a connection between the couple that one could
not deny. They looked happy. The baby in their arms could have been any child. Dark hair, blue eyes. I felt no connection to the couple, to this home, to these people.

  “This is your lady’s maid.”

  I tore my attention from the painting. The young girl in front of me curtsied. No. Not so young…my age. Although she wore her red hair in childish braids coiled around her head, she was already a servant, already forced to wait on others. But then again, I was supposed to save a kingdom and I was only sixteen.

  “Helen will take you upstairs so you can bathe and relax.”

  I nodded, eager to be alone. Eager to wash the grime of travel from my body and feel human again. Before I could escape, my aunt grasped my shoulders and pulled me close. She was warm, and soft and smelled of powder and flowers. She was exactly what a mother should feel like. I had to resist the urge to sink into her.

  “Oh, my sweet dear, it’s so good to have you home again.”

  My throat grew tight with emotions I didn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand. When she released her hold, I quickly followed the maid up the wide steps to a second floor. I could hear my aunt murmuring orders to the staff. I paused at the top of the steps for one moment and gazed down at the scene below, trying to take it in. It was like something from a movie, a dream. Servants. Castles. Knights. Unicorns. I swallowed my manic shout of laughter. It was all so unreal.

  “Please tell me there are no dragons here?”

  “Of course not, my lady. They died off years ago,” Helen said, not a hint of joke in her tone. “You will have the west tower, my lady. It’s got a lovely view.”

  I tore my attention from the scene below and followed her down the hall. So many riches. So much wealth. I didn’t belong. Tentatively, I reached out, drawing my fingertips along the dark wainscoting on the lower half of the wall. My dirty tennis shoes sank into the plush carpet runner, and left behind dusty prints. I hadn’t brushed my teeth in two days. Hadn’t combed my hair. Washed.

  It looked like the museums I would roam in the city on the days they were open for free. Artwork covered the walls, beautiful landscape paintings that could only be of this world. Silver sconces highlighted each work of art, making the paint glow. No, not the light. Something made them sparkle, but not light. I paused in front of a mountain landscape.

  “They glimmer,” I said with some surprise. “Almost like waves in the ocean.”

  “Yes, the artists include fairy dust, my lady.”

  I laughed. “Of course they do.”

  Fairy dust. Unicorns. Castles. Had I entered another realm or Disney World?

  “In here, my lady.” Helen stood near an open door. A door carved with the same woodland creatures I’d seen carved into the front doors of the castle. “The bed is ready. A bath has also been drawn. I will ring for a dinner tray. Your bathing chamber is through the door in the far corner.”

  Timidly, I moved into the room. The sweet scent of flowers overwhelmed me. The same scent that permeated the gardens. As my gaze took in the large, lush room, I was momentarily struck mute. A huge four-poster bed sat near the windows overlooking the front gardens, and beyond, the ocean. Thick, blue velvet curtains hung around the bed, offering privacy, or maybe warmth in winter.

  A large, marble fireplace was against the far wall, complete with dancing flames. On a table in the middle of the room was a massive bouquet of roses in a variety of colors. The walls were light blue, the bedspread silver. Everything screamed wealth, privilege. It dazzled my brain, stunned my senses.

  “This one room is the size of our entire apartment in New York. I don’t understand.”

  Helen stepped into the room, her eyes wide with worry. “Understand what, my lady?”

  “I don’t understand why everyone is treating me so well.” I turned slowly, trying to find answers in this space. “Why in the world do you think I deserve this?”

  “My lady,” the maid whispered, bemused. “You’re the last in your family. The last in the line of the Rybengotten. You are our only hope. If you don’t save us, we are doomed.”

  I shook my head. “What does that mean…the last in the line? I don’t understand.”

  “It means, my lady, that you’re a princess, and that as soon as your aunt has the ball in your honor, you will be crowned Queen. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  Queen?

  “No,” I whispered, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “No one told me.”

  Chapter Six

  Makaiden

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Gregor shifted, pressing his belly low to the ground as we peered through the trees.

  The sun was just setting, the shadows long and low. Lack of light did not detract from the beauty of the place. Part of me resented the fact that while my kingdom remained dark and dreary, here they thrived. Another part of me was slightly horrified by how relaxed they seemed. How very open for attack.

  “We could be walking into a trap,” Gregor added.

  I studied the garden, taking in any possible threat. Ten soldiers within viewing distance…no, twelve. Five or more visitors in the gardens. We’d managed to sneak through two lines of defense so far. I lowered my hand, needing to feel the reassurance of the hilt of my dagger at my side. The Acadian were more concerned with an army. They would not be on the look-out for two measly soldiers. Our uneasy peace treaty, along with the Acadian uniforms I’d stolen, helped. Of course, that peace treaty had probably been destroyed the moment I’d abducted the princess.

  “I have no choice.”

  “You could…”

  The silence stretched. I glanced at him, somewhat amused. Did he think I did things on a whim? That I did not plan? That I did not spend nights awake, twisting and spinning ideas around and around in my mind attempting to come up with something, anything to save my kingdom? “I could do what, exactly?”

  He sighed long and loud, making the weeds around him flutter. “Nothing. I have nothing.”

  The sudden murmur of conversation reached our ears. We froze. Four soldiers strolled by not ten feet from us, their eyes searching the undergrowth. They chatted like children, heedless to the danger around them. I held my breath, didn’t dare move. Not even when a little white butterfly landed on my hand, did I brush it away. Only when they continued on did I relax enough to breathe. The butterfly fluttered off, completely oblivious to danger. They might have led a pleasant life here in Acadia, but they’d been spoiled. Being spoiled made you weak.

  “I have to prove myself. My uncle is looking for anything he can use to turn my people against me.”

  “And if you’re caught?”

  I dug my fingers into the earth, needing to feel the solid reassurance of the ground. “Run. Don’t wait for me. Escape, if you can.”

  Sweat trailed down his temple. He was nervous. Even more nervous than when we went into battle. Fighting, he understood. He was familiar with the protocols. But this was a sneak attack. He didn’t want to be here, but he was loyal to me. I should have felt guilty. I didn’t. What I did was for the best of my people. For all. It was his job to serve not only me, but the kingdom.

  “You know I can’t leave you. They’d hang me if I left royalty behind.”

  Still, I’d give him a choice. I wasn’t evil, after all. “Don’t tell them you came with me then. It’s that simple.”

  He gave me a pointed glance. “And they know you’d never leave me behind. Face it, even if I leave right now, they’d still blame me.”

  “Part of the fun of being friends with the prince.” I paused, making sure that no one was near. All clear. I pulled the flask from my belt loop. “Alright then, if I’m caught, we’re caught together.”

  “I rue the day I agreed to be your personal guard.”

  I took a deep drink from my flask. The bitter potion burned down my throat. As if he had a choice. As if he would have rejected the promotion of being my confidant. Yes, it was a risk, but the benefits outweighed it. Slowly, I stood, brushing the debris from my blue
Acadian uniform. I hoped the potion would work, but most of me assumed we would be killed the moment the spell failed.

  “I can’t believe we’re resorting to sneaking about like thieves. Real warriors do not hide.”

  “Real warriors,” I snapped, my mask of indifference slipping. “Do whatever it takes to win.”

  I shoved the flask into his hand. His arrogance would one day get him killed. He saw everything as good and bad. There was no in between. To Gregor, one either obeyed the rules, or one would be punished. And the rules of the realm said if two kingdoms were at war, they would meet to battle at an agreed upon location. My opinion? Laws were mere guides, meant to be broken for the greater good. Besides, we weren’t going to war…yet.

  “Let’s head out before this wears off.”

  He drank, grimacing over the bitter taste. “Bold as you please?”

  “It’s the only way.” I reached over my shoulder and felt the hilt of my sword strapped to my back. “Stay calm, act as if you should be there. If the spell wears off then we’re still in their uniforms. We just might be able to get away with pretending to be one of them.”

  “Sound plan,” he muttered, standing and checking his own weapons.

  The sarcasm was thick in his tone. I didn’t have time to be irritated. I waited until I noticed his form began to shimmer, fading in and out of focus like the picture screens I’d seen in Earth Realm. Suddenly, he was gone. Invisible.

  “By the gods,” Gregor whispered.

  “I assume I’ve disappeared?”

  “Quite.”

  It worked. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Perhaps Basel wasn’t an idiot after all. “You as well.”