14. Chapter 14

fourteen

P rince Castien’s steely gaze pierced Kallessa for a heartbeat before shifting to her cousin.

“Lady Dovina,” Prince Castien addressed her.

Dovina straightened, her small harp beside her, a practiced smile on her lips. “Yes, my lord?”

“I don’t believe I invited you to this meeting this morning,” he said so flippantly, it was as if he was discussing the weather. Kallessa’s stomach clenched.

Dovina’s lips formed a shocked “O”. No, she’d obviously never been spoken to like that. But Kallessa knew her younger cousin. She would rally, she always did.

Dovina blinked a few times before continuing. “Ah, yes. That is true, my lord. I invited myself.” She smiled demurely, tilting her head. The silver in her coronet caught a ray of light.

Prince Castien actually chuckled. “And why is that?”

“I hear my lord is a great lover of music,” Dovina replied, dropping her gaze and fluttering her lashes. She was good, Kallessa had to admit. Kallessa wasn’t sure if she could ever pull off that look.

“That may be so.” The prince leaned back, steepling his fingers.

“I wrote a song for you, my lord. Would you like to hear it? ”

He glanced at the wall behind their heads. “I have precisely fifteen minutes left before my morning schedule begins. You may have five of them.”

Without hesitation, Dovina took her harp and braced it in her lap. Her slim fingers plucked and strummed a complicated melody that Kallessa couldn’t begin to follow. It was beautiful. Dovina hummed softly as she played, her eyes closing as she got lost in the music. As the melody drew to a close, Dovina opened her eyes, casting a shy glance at the prince.

His eyes were unreadable, granite walls fully intact. Yet the spell cast by Dovina’s ethereal melody still hung in the air. Why hadn’t Dovina ever told her how well she played? Kallessa’s respect for her young cousin grew, albeit begrudgingly.

The prince inhaled, breaking the atmosphere.

“The high ‘G’ is slightly sharp. Besides that, it has merit. You may go, lady Dovina.”

The remaining glow of the music popped at his words. Kallessa glanced at Dovina, whose cheeks bloomed bright pink.

Rising with only a slight tremor in her hand, Dovina murmured, “Thank you, my lord. I shall work on that.” Then she slipped past Kallessa and left the room.

The silent void left by her passing was only broken by a coal shifting in the brazier. Sunlight bathed the greenhouse in warm hues, the air suffocatingly hot. Kallessa craved the cool air she knew lied only on the other side of this glass room. The mists were almost gone in the yards, revealing gardeners along the paths, trimming and shaping the shrubs and flowers.

“You have eight minutes, my lady,” the prince spoke, his voice soft once again. The empty earthenware mug sat on the table now beside the empty plate. Color flushed his cheeks, and he looked less pale than when they had entered.

Kallessa’s heart raced. This had been a terrible idea. The way he’d just dismissed Dovina made it obvious he couldn’t care less about whatever she was about to present. Why had he even agreed to this meeting?

But she was here now, before a prince. She wasn’t about to lose her chance to get out from under her uncle’s thumb.

“May I stand?” At his nod, she retrieved the box beneath her chair and shook out the skirts.

She draped them across her palm to display them. “These are made for a lady to ride in the saddle as a man does, for stability, endurance, and sport.”

“What is wrong with a carriage?” Castien interjected dismissively.

Everything. If it weren’t for a carriage, she wouldn’t be here, alone in the world, before a foreign prince who looked at her like she was a ninny.

“Nothing, my lord. But ladies may wish to-”

“Its ridiculous. What lady would want to straddle a horse?”

She would. The freedom to maneuver, to make daring jumps, to feel the strength and stride of the beast underneath her. It was exhilarating.

“It’s quite modest, my lord,” Kallessa persisted, splaying the skirts. “See, the topmost layers are extra full to cover the split skirts below. It’s comfortable and has large pockets.”

Prince Castien glanced at the clock. “What is it you expect to gain from this meeting? ”

Her stomach twisted. “I- I was looking for an investor, or perhaps to sell my idea.”

The prince’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you need money? You fiancé doesn’t look to be in dire straights.”

Ugh, no. That was an excellent question. How could she answer without revealing her farce with Nevander?

“Ah, he loves my idea, and thinks a lady being independent is commendable,” she stammered.

“And why did he not approach me with this idea?”

Because he’s fake! She wanted to shout, but instead she mustered all the composure she had left and replied, “Like I said, he admires my independence and lets me make my own decisions.”

The oppressive heat made her lightheaded as the prince studied her.

Finally, he spoke. “I think these split skirts are a terrible idea. I’m not interested.”

Kallessa saw sparks at the edge of her vision. She was going back to Aunt Gevene bereft of hope, destined for poverty. In a year, she’d be living in a shack on the beach, or begging in the streets of Teansong. If only she really was engaged. But who would want to marry her if they knew she was destitute?

She began folding the skirt, swallowing back tears. No way would she cry in front of this heartless man. He didn’t deserve to see her vulnerability.

She cleared her throat, focusing on folding the pleats. “Thank you for your time, my lord.”

But just as she was about to ask permission to leave, his voice stopped her in her tracks. “Wait,” he commanded.

She raised her eyed. “Yes, my lord? ”

“How much do you know about the Dracian court?” He rose and strode to the brazier before stirring the flaming coals within.

Kallessa paused, caught off guard by his question. “Not a lot, my lord. I’ve been out of the social circles for some time.”

“Princess Ciana Lionskye of Dracia was once married to my brother Dane.”

Yes. His brother who’d died under mysterious circumstances.

His lips tightened. “She’ll be visiting next week, a few days before the end of the festival. She is a great lover of horses and riding. I will tell her of your ridiculous split skirt idea.”

Hope bubbled up in Kallessa’s chest. “Oh, thank you, my lord.”

He raised his hand. “On one condition.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Condition?”

“You and Nevander must complete the Axan Moon Festival treasure hunt together. And win.”

Kallessa’s gentle knock on Dovina’s door echoed in the quiet hallway. No answer. Relief washed over her as she made her way back to her rooms in the east wing, her slippers whispering against the stone floors.

Poor Dovina. If Kallessa had been so humiliated, she’d have hidden under her bed until the festival ended.

Her dress clung damply to her overheated body. The fabric felt suffocating, like a second skin she desperately wanted to rip off. She found a dress hook and yanked the ties undone, unlacing and removing it in record time. The cool morning air brushing against her arms and legs felt glorious.

A door slammed next to hers with a startling clap, making her jump. Nevander. She hadn’t glimpsed him since moving into these rooms. Did he resent her for putting him in this impossible situation? For forcing him to lie to the crown prince?

Guilt gnawed at her. How did she get herself into this mess? But… if things went well, she could release him from this charade.

All they had to do was win the treasure hunt.

She snatched up the letter containing the first clue and changed into a cotton day dress.

Minutes later, Kallessa stood before Nevander’s door, heart pounding like a festival drum. He was still there. She could hear fabric rustling and the soft thuds of boots from inside. Her fingers trembled as she made a fist, yet she couldn’t bring herself to knock. Her harsh breath echoed in the hushed quiet of the corridor.

Enough. She just had to knock on his door. If he ignored it, she'd figure something else out. But as she thrust her arm forward, the door swung open unexpectedly, and her fist collided with a hard chest, the firm bulge of muscle beneath fine cloth sending jolts of shock up her arm. She fell back, her skirts tangling like a wave beneath her feet.

Nevander grasped her arm, his touch warm and steady. “Easy there, fiancé,” he said, his voice a smooth timbre.

“Thank you.” She looked up, caught by the dance of lamplight on flecks of amber and silver in his vivid green eyes. Yet this morning, an impenetrable emerald wall hid his thoughts. His face, so open yesterday, seemed reserved, a subtle tension in the lines around his mouth .

His tawny hair, damp from a recent grooming, fell softly away from his brow. A subtle blend of clove and cedar emanated from him like the earthy embrace of a forest at dawn. His neatly trimmed beard added ruggedness to his polished appearance.

He looked so put together, yet something about him was still untamed, a magnetic aura of wildness radiated from him. And something inside her thrummed in response. Something she squashed down immediately.

Glancing down, she noticed her fallen letter. Before she could retrieve it, he swiftly picked it up, grouping it with the one he held.

“May I escort you somewhere?” He slid his hand to her elbow.

Even though they were in the cool hallway, she felt as if she were back in that overheated sunroom, her skin flushing. “Are you ready for the treasure hunt today?”

“I’m not entirely sure I’m going to participate,” he replied. His voice sounded distant, distracted.

Hadn’t he insisted on playing yesterday? Of course, he'd had overnight to reflect on the folly of this charade she'd forced him into. But she couldn't give up. Prince Castien was giving her a chance, and that was more than she'd been given in years.

Swallowing, she touched his hand, feeling the subtle twitch of muscles beneath her palm. “It will be fun, and we can get to know each other.”

“I thought you didn’t want to play the games,” Nevander said, his eyebrows drawing together. He looked conflicted, as if battling an internal struggle.

She hadn’t, but she didn’t want to be homeless either. What if she told him what the prince had said? But it would seem so vain, like she was using him to win. Well, she was, wasn’t she?

“I changed my mind,” she lied, forcing conviction into her words.

He gazed down at her, searching her face. “Kallessa, you know this is not real.”

Her cheeks burned. Ugh, she was a terrible person.

“Of course it isn’t. I just want to play, that’s all.” She glanced down the hallway, dropping her hand. “We don’t have to get to know each other if you don’t want, but let’s at least play the games. What other boring things are there to do around here, anyway?” What a laugh. She could think of countless things she rather be doing than these ridiculous games.

Nevander’s gaze dropped to her lips. “I could think of other things to do.”

Kallessa couldn’t help but stare back, her skin tingling with awareness. Rough hands on her waist, hot breath in her ear… She blinked, desperately trying to refocus on the present. Stay on task Kallessa, do not stare at those kissable lips.

Then, he broke the gaze, a smooth smile transforming his face. All hints of the intensity she saw moments ago were gone.

He handed her letter back to her. “Have you opened the first clue yet?”

Kallessa automatically took the outstretched envelope, her mind still trying to catch up with his question. “Um, no. I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing. I’m not very good at puzzles.”

Nevander took her arm, sliding his palm to her elbow, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I’ve been here a few times before, so that should give us an advantage. Let’s eat breakfast and uncover today’s mysteries. ”

In the dining hall, well-dressed people milled about, sipping tea and chatting. Her stomach growled at the rich aromas of pastries, spiced meats, and sweetened fruits. If she didn’t slow down, she wouldn’t fit in her gowns by week’s end.

Nevander released her arm and went straight for the buffet while Kallessa poured tea, now cool enough to enjoy it, and took a small plate of persimmon tarts and scones. Heads turned their way, eyes alight with intrigue.

Nevander met the onlookers’ gazes, his expression smooth as a windless lake. How did he do that? Her mother’s voice echoed, Your heart shines through your eyes, sweetheart. You can't hide what you truly feel. What was wrong with that? Shouldn’t a person express their feelings?

Kallessa resisted the urge to fidget, focusing instead on the sweet aroma of persimmon tarts mingling with the bergamot of her tea. She swallowed hard. In this world of masks, perhaps some emotions were best concealed.

With a tilt of his head, Nevander’s suggestion came soft yet clear. “I mentioned I’m familiar with this estate. Shall we enjoy our breakfast in a more secluded spot?”

“I’d love that.” Away from the scrutinizing eyes of society? Please.

Outside, birdsong and rustling leaves greeted them. The clean scent of oak trees and sunflowers wafted through the garden. Not the salty ocean, but charming in its own way.

“Around here,” Nevander motioned and turned a sharp right onto a gravel path that crunched underfoot. It led to a bench under an ivy-covered arbor. They weren’t far from the formal gardens, but tucked in a nook shielded by ornamental grasses that swayed in the morning air. Private, yet open .

They sat, his thigh next to her skirts. Nevander dove into his meal. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m starving.”

Kallessa smiled and shook her head.

“Did you meet with the prince this morning?” he asked between bites.

She glanced across the garden, so soft and peaceful in the midmorning light. It was such a contrast to the prince, his chilly eyes gazing out the sweltering sunroom windows. “Yes,” she murmured.

“How did it go?” His eyes fixed on her.

Horrible. He’d insulted Dovina and dismissed her like yesterday’s leftovers. Yet he’d given her a tiny morsel of hope. “The prince is a very intense man. Have you ever been to the sunroom?”

“I have,” he said with a subtle twitch of one eyebrow.

“The heat was unbearable. I’m not certain I left the best impression,” Kallessa confessed, sipping her tea.

Nevander wiped his mouth. “How did the prince look? Did he look ill?”

He’d looked more miserable than anything, his gloom like a shadow draped over his chair. “More distracted and perturbed than sick.” Kallessa laughed just a little. “I felt like I was inconveniencing him for merely existing.”

Nevander’s lips quirked. “Yes,” he mused, “he has that effect on people. Did he like your idea?”

No, the prince hated it. Thought it was absurd. Thought she was absurd. Then he’d forced her into this game with Nevander.

“Ah, no. But he promised to tell someone else who might be interested.” If she completed this treasure hunt. Although meeting a princess from her own country who loved horses actually sounded exciting.

“The prince will be true to his word,” Nevander assured her. “He may be prickly, but his word is his bond. I hope something comes through for you, Kallessa.” His voice had dropped into that velvety baritone that felt like silk on her skin. Did he even know he did that to her?

She swallowed hard, her gaze drifting out across the vibrant gardens. “Thank you.”

Silence hung between them as Nevander ate. What was he thinking? His eyes held a distance all morning, as if only partly there. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so hungry anymore.

“I’m sorry about this whole affair. You don’t know me, and there’s no reason you should want to spend your time like this.” Yet, if she was honest, part of her was dying to discover more about him. He seemed both refined and rough, his polite mask barely covering something else. Kallessa wanted to let him off the hook, tell him to forget this silly hunt, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. And she knew his manners wouldn’t allow him to refuse her. At least the court was good for something.