Chapter 27

W hile the rest of court applauded Henry's victory and her father's declaration, Aria watched her sister, who sat hunched, never lifting her eyes from her lap.

As the king moved to exit the royal box, Aria caught the sleeve of his red coat.

She found she couldn't speak, yet whatever burned in her eyes was flame enough to make her father lean away from the heat of it.

"I did not decide the tournament champion, and selecting another for the challenge would have been a slight to young Wycliff's victory." His eyes moved briefly toward Eliza before he shook his head. "The matter at hand takes precedent over preference, and Eliza's romantic whims are such that she'll find a new boy within the week."

"You didn't have to do this," Aria whispered. "You didn't have to do any of this."

"You did not have to visit Northglen all those weeks ago. I did not begin this, Aria, but I will see it sorted right before the end."

He exited the box onto the field, moving to speak with Henry and Earl Wycliff.

Aria set her jaw.

Quickly, she crouched before Eliza, grasping her sister's hands. "I'll fix it. All of it. Trust me."

Her sister barely had time to blink before Aria was off again. As she left, the queen said something she didn't catch and didn't stop to hear repeated.

"Sir!" Aria barked at a royal guard. He snapped to attention. "Run ahead and find the carriage belonging to the Reeves family. They're not permitted to leave until I give word."

With a salute, the man rushed off. Her usual guards noticed Aria's departure and stepped forward to escort her, keeping the crowd at bay as she passed—though no one was in a rush to speak with her. They only stared, their bows and curtsies delayed, their minds no doubt full of the king's revelation of her curse.

Two proclamations her father had made. Two insane, terrible proclamations. Aria's mind reached frantically for a solution to each, and with every thud of her steps on the brown grass, she used the drumming to press away an ever-constant thought.

She had asked for an Artifact. Clearly this was some trap from Widow Morton, and once again, Aria had walked right into it.

The guard Aria had sent ahead was not the only one waiting at the Reeves carriage. A squad of Loegrian soldiers waited as well, crisp in their red uniforms, with horses at the ready. Their presence had drawn attention, and every nearby carriage lingered, the owners keeping pretense of friendly socializing while the frequent glances toward the Reeves boys exposed their conversation for the gossip it was.

The sight stoked the earlier fire in Aria's chest. As she marched forward, she received bows and salutes from everyone present, but her attention did not waver from Baron and the twins.

"You're all right?" she asked without preamble or formality.

Baron gave the faintest of nods, easing her heart. The twins had been quietly arguing when she'd approached, but they both looked to her now, unable to mask their fear.

"Corvin!" Aria reached forward to catch the boy's hand, lifting his arm. He'd scratched himself raw at the wrist, even to the point of blood.

"Oh, nothing—it's nothing." Corvin pulled away, ears blazing red.

"It most certainly is not. Wait here a moment."

She moved toward the soldiers only to find her path blocked by a thin man with a pinched face, leaning heavily on a cane. The steward, Mr. Huxley.

"Your Royal Highness, may I—"

"I'll speak with you in a moment, steward."

Curtness. Mark.

She didn't care.

She turned to the officer in charge and gestured at the full squad. "What is the meaning of this?"

The officer stepped forward. "Per the king's proclamation regarding Casters, my squad was given orders to escort Guillaume Reeves home after the tournament."

As if he were a prisoner !

Aria breathed slowly, willing herself to consider the full situation, to weigh the responsibility of her kingdom against her personal feelings. Yet she found herself unable. Everything she had done in recent months, she had done for her kingdom, yet she'd gotten it all wrong. Widow Morton thought her an opportunity. Her father thought her a liability. She had tried desperately to be a worthy princess and wound up as nothing more than a scared girl, destined to either be auctioned off in competition or to be killed in it.

Perhaps it was time to do something simply because she wanted to.

Raising her voice to be heard by everyone nearby, Aria said, "Lord Guillaume is perfectly capable of finding his own way home. I imagine he knows the route better than you, officer. Your squad is dismissed."

The officer started. "Highness, I—"

"Was it my father who gave your orders?"

"No, Highness. Lord Philip—"

"I outrank an adviser to the king. For the second and final time, soldier, your squad is dismissed."

Though clearly still baffled, he saluted the order, and the soldiers peeled away.

"Boy, you told them." Leon grinned.

Baron gave a slight cough, though it did nothing to cow the boy's open enthusiasm.

"Your Highness." The steward was back, sweating along his brow line. "If I may, I would feel much more at ease with an escort of soldiers. You see, during my time at the Reeves estate, I have found the Caster to be belligerent at best, and at times even—"

"You may not," Aria said flatly.

He blinked. "Highness?"

"You said ‘if I may,' Mr. Huxley, and based on the implications that followed, I have given my response: You may not."

When Baron had first presented himself to the king, she'd missed the opportunity to fight for him. When she could have told Eliza of the man who'd begun worming his way into her heart, she'd kept him secret.

I'm sorry , she thought. She couldn't fix it all, but she could fix this .

"Your Highness ..." The steward gave an uncomfortable chuckle, glancing at the crowd blatantly eavesdropping on their confrontation. He was right; she couldn't forget the crowd. Everything she said and did in this moment would determine their opinion of Baron.

So be it. She would give them something to consider.

Aria made a little shooing motion, and after a moment's hesitation, the steward shuffled away, leaving Aria with the people she actually wanted to speak to.

"Corvin." Her voice softened. "You're certain you're all right? I could send for a physician's ointment."

"I'll be fine." The boy smiled, and he seemed to mean it.

"Very well. Leon?"

Leon's grin said it all.

Aria looked, at last, to Baron. His tawny hair caught the afternoon light in a lovely way, turning strands of it nearly orange, a striking combination with his green eyes. She wished they could have another hour of privacy, though it would still not have been long enough to discuss everything she wanted to. Of everyone in the kingdom, he was the only one whose opinion she cared to hear.

Raising her voice again, Aria said, "Concerning our earlier conversation, Lord Guillaume, I would be delighted to accept your invitation."

Baron raised his eyebrows, but he waited without speaking.

"I will indeed be the guest of honor at your upcoming celebration. Feel free to invite only those you hold in the highest esteem. I imagine this will be quite the exclusive party."

Whispers erupted from the crowd, and what had been shrouded glares became quick smiles with a desire to impress.

"Highness!" The steward sputtered. "He's under house arrest!"

"How very convenient, then, that the party shall be held at his house." She leaned in slightly. "Leon, I expect spectacular food."

"You got it!" the boy declared.

"Excellent. It's settled, then. Two weeks from today, was it?"

The good thing about a curse with a deadline was that it made scheduling easy. She would outlive Baron's party by another two weeks.

Her skin pebbled with goose bumps, and she swallowed hard to be so casually counting the rest of her life in mere weeks.

Then she focused on Baron, awaiting his response. Though he kept his expression mostly impassive, he stepped closer and spoke with a voice low enough not to be overheard.

"Highness, I told you I can't ... help. I'm afraid it would be a waste of your time to—"

"Baron." She touched his arm, her heart twisting. "Did you think I cared only if you could help?"

Perhaps at first, but they were many letters past that.

After a moment, his expression melted into the most breathtaking smile she'd ever witnessed, twisting her heart in quite a different way. Her hand tingled where it remained on his arm, and she lifted it self-consciously.

"Two weeks, then!" Her voice came out too high. She cleared her throat. "I look forward to it."

"As do I," he said softly.

How she wished there wasn't a crowd present. Her eyes traced the lines of his face, lingering on his lips, still in a soft curve from his smile. She glanced back up at his green eyes. Watching her. Did he wonder, as she did, how it would feel to close the distance between them? She remembered the feeling of his strong arm around her waist, saving her from a fall. If she kissed him, really kissed him, the way she suddenly wanted to, would he feel any strength in her? His letters seemed to outline a version of Aria that she couldn't see, but one she wanted to become. Someone strong enough to find the right path, a path that helped others, like she was trying to do right now.

She saw the best version of herself reflected in Baron's eyes.

Finally, she tore her gaze away.

"Steward." She gestured Mr. Huxley forward again. The man no longer seemed eager to address her, focused on mopping his forehead instead, at least until she said, "I have a most serious charge for you."

Then she had his full attention.

"These three men"—she gestured to Baron and his brothers—"are very dear to me. You are to care for their well-being even before matters of the Reeves estate, do you understand?"

Deflating, he nodded.

"Tell him not to split us up," Leon interjected.

Aria looked sharply back to the steward. "I hope that was never a consideration."

"No, Highness! No, I ... wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." And since it was proper, she added, "Thank you for your service. I'm sure you take your duties very seriously." She glanced once more at Corvin. "Sutton Town has an excellent physician. I suggest you visit on your way home so she may tend to the future lord baron's wrist."

"It was to be my first priority," the steward said.

She didn't call him out on the lie, instead offering a small smile of approval. With any luck, he would take her opinion to heart, and the Reeves boys would have a more comfortable time of things at home.

If only she could say the same for herself.