Chapter Three

"Good morning, Your Grace."

I peel my eyes open as Nuelle barges into the room. I blink the sleep from my eyes and curse all the stars as she draws back the curtains and bright light floods the room.

Nuelle begins humming a familiar tune as she picks up my dressing robe from the stone floor. She spares a glance at me as she places it at the foot of my featherbed and then moves to the other side of the chamber.

Although I often rise early, she knows that I require silence until the sun reaches its afternoon apex if I'm to be somewhat agreeable.

I realize how much I despise nature when she heaves the doors of the balcony open and the gauzy gold and crimson curtains billow in the stifling breeze. Aside from the despicable creatures that fly around on tiny wings and seek to suck out your soul with their bite, it's the heat that I find abysmal.

For nine cycles of the moon, the great Evodia trees that are native to my homeland bring Minalis to life. With towering trunks that stretch as far as the eye can see and leaves that reflect in burnt orange and deep brown, many would call them one of the most beautiful sights on the continent of Norweth.

On any given day during these months, guests of the Amber Palace can be found strolling the grounds, appreciating the vibrant foliage that's uncommon in their dreary kingdoms.

While the plant life is beautiful, I've come to enjoy the crisp air that swirls the leaves about. Many of my gowns are customized for this weather, including light sleeves that are necessary for cooler temperatures.

The other three moons of the year are what I loathe the most for their unfavorable weather conditions. It's much too warm to be alive. I throw back the duvet and wrinkle my nose as tiny droplets of sweat bead on my brow.

Nuelle clicks her tongue in disapproval when the balls of my feet meet the cool stone and I reach for the dressing robe.

"You must take off your sleeping gown first, My Queen, or we'll have to redo your hair after you dress," she says with a gentle smile.

I roll my eyes and begrudgingly tug upward on the hem of the sleeping gown that's already clinging to my body. This season is what I like to call my personal damnation, as the amount of water vapor that hangs in the air is just enough to ensure that my irritation increases tenfold.

Strands of hair fly into my face when I pull the gown over my head and huff in annoyance as a curl sticks to my mouth.

"It's quite alright, My Queen," Nuelle soothes, sensing my agitation and rushing over to take the gown from my hands.

She continues to hum a tune from my childhood as she pushes the dressing robe onto my shoulders and ushers me to the vanity. Sitting in the ornate golden chair, I stretch my arms above my head and stifle a yawn.

Relief sweeps over me when another of my lady's maids, Elenore, enters the room carrying a silver tray. Although various fruits and other breakfast items line the tray, my eyes come to focus on the two golden goblets among them. While I don't have an appetite so early in the morning, my cotton-like mouth appreciates both the water and the wine.

Nuelle runs a gentle hand through the ends of my riotous curls as Elenore sets the tray down on the vanity and curtsies.

"Just like your mother's," Nuelle says with a gentle smile, smoothing a stray curl from the side of my cheek. "You take after your father too, though." Her eyes fill with unspoken grief as she looks at me through the mirror.

I nod in agreement. Having served the crown for most of her life, Nuelle knew both of my parents well. She's long made it known that I take after each of them. Seeing that I once believed the former Queen of Minalis to be the most beautiful woman in all of Norweth, I prefer to think I favor her. I share the same amber eyes, oval face, porcelain skin, and full lips as my mother.

Fae and humans alike were mystified at the sight of the ethereal Queen Emeline, with eyes akin to pools of honey and a graciousness that only one of the Sorrell noble bloodline could carry. I remember well the wide grins of welcome and nods of reverence bestowed upon us by every townsperson and shopkeeper alike. Each greeting of warmth was hard earned though, as being the first ruling Queen of Minalis required her to face different battles than the kings of our history had.

My father, King Rinus, was handsome and revered by the masses, despite the bloody war that ensued with the kingdom of Risian. According to Nuelle, the stars have also blessed me with his high angling cheekbones, straight nose, and rich chocolate brown hair.

She gathers my curls in her hands and holds them up in the mirror. "How about we smooth them down?"

I scowl. We've had this discussion before. Despite the fact that my hair is lustrous and hangs to the small of my back, I never allow it to be worn down. My mother instilled in me that an updo was the only acceptable style for a ruling queen. It also feels too vulnerable. Too close to the female I'd once been.

"No."

Being wise enough to understand the battles that need to be fought, I ignore Nuelle's silent disapproval. The familiar weaving of her elegant yet weathered fingers begins.

"You used to be afraid of me, you know," she murmurs.

The corner of my lips twitches upward. "I'm no longer a little princess, Nuelle."

When I was no more than a girl of eight, she looked to be in her fifth century of life. I'd been unaccustomed to anything but the smooth, porcelain skin that was common among the fae race. With hair the color of molten silver and creases around her chocolate brown eyes, she looks the same after all these centuries.

Humans, on the other hand, are another matter entirely. While they mingle among our kind rather peacefully, the differences between us are great. Along with their temperamental nature, their bodies show signs of aging rather quickly. I learned this firsthand when I accompanied my mother on her first outing as Queen to greet the people of our kingdom.

Nuelle pins a plait to the top of my head and takes a step back. "Indeed. My, how you've grown." A flicker of warmth brushes through my chest as her features soften in the mirror.

My lady's maid became a much larger part of my life when my father was called to battle. The tides of war had turned deadly after my twentieth birthday. With soldiers killed or injured faster than they could be replaced, King Rinus had no choice but to fight for his kingdom.

Eight moons later, both mother and Nuelle awakened me in the dead of night. The hot tears streaming down their cheeks as they wrapped me in their arms were explanation enough.

"Enough." I hiss as she places another pin at the crown of my head and it pulls at my tender scalp.

Shooing her away with a wave of my hand, I glance through the doors of the balcony. I know I'm late for my meeting with the General by the way the sun climbs high to sit in the afternoon sky and golden rays of light filter through the thin material of the curtains.

A light rap echoes through the chamber as I finish dressing, confirming my thoughts. Lacing the final ribbon of my corset, Nuelle smoothes the skirts of my gown and turns toward the chamber door. She glances at me over her shoulder. I give a sharp jerk of my chin to confirm she may take her leave.

Though not every hair has been smoothed into submission and several curls loosely frame my face, it will have to do.

With a quick curtsy to the General, she steps aside and allows him to pass before disappearing. His eyes sweep over my gown and a small smile plays on my lips when hunger fills his eyes.

"You look quite beautiful today, My Queen."

I hum in agreement and turn back to the vanity once more. Though Alexander is quite generous in his expressions of affection, I don't need him to tell me of my beauty. I have no shame for the pedestal I seat myself upon, seeing that I work very hard to keep up my appearance.

On the precipice of six hundred and thirty-four years old, I have strands of gray hair, but my face remains porcelain. While some attribute my creaseless features to the fae blood that flows through my veins, I choose to believe it's the masks of spring mud and milk baths that aid in my youthful appearance.

Yet, I'm also not ashamed of the delight that stretches through me when his compliments grace my ears. I find satisfaction in knowing that the General so many ladies fawn over worships me as if I'm a goddess. With every look of reverence and sweet word, the hollowness of my soul temporarily fills.

Though he holds a respectable station, his desire and praise is all I require. I have no wish to chain myself to another ever again.

As the second son of Lord Valter, who hails from the town of Avriel, Alexander is well-endowed, in both manners of speaking. With handsome features and pockets that run deep, ladies flock to him as if they're little more than sheep. Seeing that I'm a hundred years younger than he is, I've witnessed plenty of insufferable women hailing from far and near in hopes of securing his hand in marriage. Lashes had fluttered and corsets were tightened to showcase pert breasts.

On one occasion, when all of the Queen's court had been summoned to the throne room, Sianna had feigned illness in hopes she would fall into his strong arms. My mother threw me an icy glare when Sianna fell flat on her back and I snickered. The Minalese princess couldn't behave in such ways, after all.

I pick up my favorite pair of ruby earrings, which are worth enough to feed the citizens in the capital of Solei for a month, and dangle them between my fingers, examining them more closely. Though I have acquired a taste for wine and chocolate since being crowned Queen, I've had a taste for jewelry since I was a girl.

When my father's duties as king required him to travel, he always returned bearing gifts, no matter how near or far. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings; the things a young princess' dreams were made of. On my twelfth birthday, my eyes were as wide as coppers when I'd received all three, plus a new brooch with a sapphire the size of a robin's egg that represented the moon I was born beneath.

The ruby earrings catch the afternoon light, casting teardrop shadows across the gilded vanity. Smiling to myself, I fasten the clasps to my ears when Alexander clears his throat.

With one last glance in the mirror, I adjust the ruby necklace that rests on my collarbone and turn to face him. Giving him another glance from head to toe, I allow him a small smile as I realize that his cream jerkin with gold stitching is complementary to my ochre gown.

His features soften when he steps closer and wraps his fingers around the wrist that rests at my side. Our eyes never part as he leans down and places a chaste kiss on the back of my hand.

Straightening, he offers me a smile of his own and extends his arm dutifully. "Shall we?"

Despite the sweltering heat, I have to admit there is a certain beauty to be found in the palace grounds during this time of the year. Seven slim, round towers made of white stone enhance the rich shades of the summer solstice.

Verdant foliage and soft pink flowers climb up the towering windows that are scattered generously around the walls in perfect symmetry. Petals sway in the summer breeze and litter the courtyard, covering almost every inch of the pewter stone below. Bright green vines snake up the balustrades and cling to the sides of the staircase leading down to the other areas of the grounds.

My hand rests lightly in the crook of the General's elbow when we reach the bottom of the staircase. As we weave through the hexagonal path to the castle gardens, Alexander's attempt to make small talk begins to grate on my nerves.

Though he nods as lords and ladies pass, something is amiss. The General knows I despise pointless conversation as much as I abhor the outdoors.

Beautiful blooms of red, pink, and white give way to greenhouses aligned in neat rows when we reach an open expanse of land on the edge of the grounds.

Along with tending to the gardens, the caretakers are also charged with growing and harvesting the various herbs and potions in these greenhouses. A special, thick material covers the roof, controlling the temperature and ensuring the proper amount of sunlight and heat.

Alexander falls quiet as we reach a private alcove hidden behind the greenhouses adjacent to the lake of starlight. A sense of nostalgia stretches through me as I inhale the sweet scent of the tiny buds that curl around the columns and dangle gracefully from the arching entrance. When I was a child, I often came here to enjoy the quiet. As the rest of the castle slept, I'd stare out at the lake. The whorls of gold beneath the cerulean surface provided me with a sense of comfort I couldn't explain.

Spying the caretakers from the corner of my eye, I give them a curt nod to afford Alexander and I with privacy. As he slows our pace, I drop my hand from his arm.

"A dove arrived this morning," he says, stopping to turn and face me.

I raise a brow. "Oh?" Judging by his clipped tone, I know the message doesn't bode well.

Annoyance stretches through me as he reaches into his jerkin and pulls out a small, neatly rolled piece of parchment. My lips press into a thin line when I immediately spy the onyx wax seal embossed with stars surrounding a waning half moon.

His crest.

Alexander's jaw clenches as he extends the parchment into the space between us and I pluck it from his fingers. Unease settles heavily in my chest when I break the seal and scan the familiar scrawl.

Ellesandra,

Seeing that I have received no response to my previous missives, I'm led to assume your answer remains unchanged. By the time this reaches your beautiful eyes, Risian vessels will have control of the Shilock Channel, and my men will have a stronghold in the Carborough Pass. Until you give me what I require, my men will continue their assault on your trade routes, both in and out of Minalis.

Do not allow your foolish pride to cost you further. Should you reach a different conclusion, I will be waiting.

I scoff under my breath. The arrogant bastard didn't even bother to include his signature.

Icy rage floods my veins, the roar in my ears vanishing any sense of unease. A loose curl tickles my cheek as the wind picks up and I raise my head to find Alexander's eyes steadily upon me. I blow out a long breath and close my eyes, swallowing back my fury. The Shilock Channel is crucial not only for food and supplies, but also for the aid from Brealan that is surely to arrive.

Upon my marriage to Calor, Brealan quickly became our strongest ally. My father had the foresight to understand that trade routes from the most sizable kingdom would be vital in ensuring both men and supplies were able to cross the Besite Sea. With access to the channel that bordered both Risian and Brealan, the journey through the dangerous mountain range, the Carborough Pass, would not be necessary.

Without the Channel or the Pass, there will be little hope for Minalis.

The precedent of hopelessness has been in place long before I took the crown. The war that began when my parents were no more than small children grew out of control, spilling into their reign with such ferocity that there was little that could be done to see the bloodshed put to an end. Sensing the transition of power as weakness, King Ofor, the madman who ruled Risian five centuries ago, renewed his efforts of assault, relentless in his pursuit of both our borders and trade routes.

Low on both men and supplies as a result of such brute force, my father faced his first test as a ruler. Cut off by the Risian vessels that prowled the Besite Sea, the reserves that ensured Minalis ran smoothly dwindled, including in the capital of Solei. The fine silk that the seamstresses used to make my gowns could no longer be found. Leather that provided warmth for the soldiers marching to war all but vanished. The various herbs used by healers to create their potions became a rare commodity.

Alardin Brunet was Minalis' sole hope then, and it seems he is to remain so now.

"What does he want?"

I open my eyes and crumple the parchment into the fist at my side. "Until I give him what he wants, he'll continue this ridiculous crusade," I grind out. "He's taken the Shilock Channel and the Carborough Pass."

Alexander's gaze flits between my eyes for a moment before he takes a soundless step forward. I crane my neck upward, the movement bringing us so close that our breath mingles.

Warmth curls in my chest and soothes my anger when he raises his hand from his side. When I make no move to pull away, his palm cradles my jaw.

"This is concerning, yes." His thumb circles my cheek in a featherlight touch. "But I won't let him take you. Not if it's not what you desire." His honey eyes shine with such tenderness it makes my soul ache.

Eyes that are the wrong shade,my soul whispers in response.

A bitter laugh escapes my throat, as Alexander seems to believe he has a say in the matter.

Of course I won't accept his terms. I haven't written a response to the first, nor fiftieth letters that have arrived from the King of Risian. All of them proposals of marriage that will see me rule over kingdoms and become his queen.

While my people and my kingdom would be better for putting an end to this war, I don't have the heart to yield myself to the man who is my mirror soul. Selfish, they may call me, but they don't know Felix Chalanet as I do.

In the five centuries since that fateful night, another hasn't shared the throne with the King of Risian. If the servants' gossip is to be believed, the betrothal his father arranged before his passing crumbled to dust when he ascended the throne. I will not deny the sense of satisfaction that swells in my chest at the thought of the loneliness he chooses to endure.

On the rare occasion that I host a ball for the guests who visit my court, the topic of conversation never strays far from Felix Chalanet. Although they speak in loud whispers—a poor attempt to avoid my ire—it comes as no surprise that he doesn't practice celibacy. He's not horrendous to look at, after all. In fact, it's said that women often seek an audience in his throne room with hope that he'll invite them into his bed. It would be no small wonder if a bastard child with blue eyes and raven hair wanders about the kingdoms.

But Alexander is a fool to believe that the King of Risian won't make good on his promise. I accepted long ago that he will never leave me in peace. The centuries have been littered with that shadowed truth. I've received every exquisite jewel, remarkable flower, and precious book on the continent.

Pretty things that I imagine would soften the hearts of other, weak-minded women, though I know they're for show. Their true purpose is a game of the mind that will see my people question my decision to continue this war. What they didn't see, however, was the neatly wrapped box I received that contained the head of a spy I attempted to plant in his court. Or the snow-white dove that flew to my chambers, carrying a single midnight rose with crimson splattered across its petals.

In my mind, the letters I receive each moon are worst of all. While I enjoy pretty things, words are the language of my love. Not that I love him. No, I despise him. In the six centuries since I've entered this realm, he remains the most despicable creature I've crossed paths with.

The General clears his throat and takes a step back. "I will write to Commander Lathing to confirm Risian's claims." I twist the golden band of the ruby ring on my finger as he speaks. "How would you like to proceed if he is proven truthful, My Queen?"

Although my husband rests among the stars, I began my preparations for battle by swallowing back a generous amount of wine, along with my pride, and writing to King Alardin. Should he send the four thousand men I require, our combined forces should have no issue with regaining control of both the Pass and the Channel.

"Call the council to meet in a day's time," I say at last.

With a slight incline of his head, Alexander turns heel and disappears in the direction of the castle entrance, leaving me alone once more.

I scowl when I step into the alcove and remind myself to give the caretakers a thorough scolding. Floral trimmings litter the stone flooring, the sharp edges of vines and leaves piercing through my satin slippers. With a sigh, I take a seat on the granite bench and hoard the quiet. Minutes bleed into hours as the tides of war churn in my mind, the quiet lapping of the lake of starlight acting as a balm to my soul.

The afternoon sun crests the horizon, bathing the grounds in bright yellow as I emerge from the alcove. Stepping over the threshold, I remember the reason why I prefer to remain indoors at once. The skirts of my gown snap around my ankles as I bat at one of the despicable creatures that buzz around me.

Hurrying across the gardens as fast as my gown will allow me, I climb the staircase in long strides, only slowing my pace when the click of my heels resounds along the cobblestone of the courtyard. I pay no mind to the lords and ladies that attempt to engage me in polite conversation as I pass. My sole focus remains on reaching the doors to the palace as sweat beads on my brow. It's much too hot to endure their false smiles and pretty words.

The guards straighten and stand at attention when they spy me in the distance. My irritation soothes as they haul the doors open and I step inside the castle, away from the sun's punishing rays.

Ever dutiful, my Queensguard falls into step behind me as I cross the threshold into the entrance hall. Although they're skilled at making their presence unknown, their duties extend beyond the palace walls. While they keep a respectable distance, Alexander's incessant worry ensures they shadow all of my movements.

As to be expected, the number of guards that accompany me increased when I became Queen. The additional thirty men the General assigned to oversee my protection is excessive. I firmly drew a line when he suggested that a guard take their post inside my chambers on the nights he was unable to do so himself.

Aside from satisfying our desires, Alexander feels I'm the safest when both his body and longsword are beside me. In truth, his protective nature has become more burdensome over time. I rejoice in the quiet I'm given when matters require his attention elsewhere. Isolation is where I find I'm the happiest. Loneliness became my friend long ago.

I glance out of the corner of my eye when Warwick falls into step beside me. He clears his throat as we round the corner to the Great Hall.

"Are you alright?" The softness of his tone sees the embers of my irritation flare to life.

"Yes, yes," I say with a wave of my hand. "The Risian King is just peacocking about as usual. We'll regain control of the Pass and the Channel soon enough."

If the aid arrives from Brealan, I add in my mind. The older man's gray brows knit together as we turn left to an adjoining corridor. I must hold on to hope that King Alardin will provide the aid Minalis need to defeat Risian. The alternative is not an option I'm willing to dwell on.

The guards fan out and take their posts as we reach the end of the hall and the door of my study comes into view. While many people in my kingdom believe that holding the title of Queen requires little more than hosting balls and wearing extravagant gowns, the crown requires far more than that. My duties often extend long into the night. When I'm not holding court or listening to various lords and ladies drone on, I spend much of my time in my study, sifting through a mountain of parchment.

Although the members of my council help to ensure Minalis runs smoothly, I approve the laws that are proposed and review all financial affairs. Seeing that it's important for a queen to be aware of all the happenings in her kingdom, I don't mind the work. Mother instilled the benefit of a strong work ethic into my mind early on.

Stepping aside, Warwick opens the door to the study. I angle my head in silent question when he places his hand on my arm. Curiosity flows through me with the indiscernible emotion that swirls within his spring green eyes.

"I believe the stars have a plan for us all, Your Grace. While we may be a pawn to their whims, what is for the greater good will always prevail."