Chapter 11: A wrench in the plan

Princess Annalise fought back a yawn as she settled into the ornate chair reserved for the Crown Heir. She’d been up much later than expected the night before, playing with the other musicians until the last of the revelers finally retired to their rooms or fell asleep where they sat. In some ways, it felt like it was the last night of freedom she’d ever have. Today, either her father acknowledged the terms of her betrothal to the Rhinnean king, at which point she would begin wedding and travel preparations, or he denied their request and Dovea would prepare for war. 

As she waited for the king to make his entrance, she searched the room until her gaze fell on Soren, who was standing at the side and towards the front. His russet coat, white shirt, and black pants were rather dashing, and when he caught her eye, he graced her with a dazzling smile. 

The door to the king’s private offices opened, and King Evert stalked to his throne. He was dressed in a navy coat, light blue shirt, and tan pants with a heavy silver chain around his neck, several silver rings on his fingers, and the monstrosity that was his silver crown perched atop his head. If Soren was the embodiment of a successful autumn harvest, King Evert was a cold winter. 

“Bring me the Rhinnean delegation.” His voice resounded through the room like a clap of thunder, and the entire court quieted.  

When the Rhinneans were ushered forward, the king stared at them with red-rimmed eyes and tapped his fingers together. The silence stretched uncomfortably long. 

“My advisors have examined the betrothal document and judged it valid. In addition, after much discussion and refreshing of memories, we recall the time when the agreement was made. I will honor the treaty. Crown Princess Annalise will begin preparations for travel and will depart in one month with your delegation to Rhinnea. I trust that this is suitable for you?” 

The Rhinnean ambassador, Selveg, stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty is as wise as he is just. If I may make one suggestion, the road to Rea, our capital city, goes over a pass that is not accessible once the full winter snows have come. I fear that if she waits until after the winter solstice, her royal highness risks not being able to make the journey until the snow thaws in the spring. This would portend an ill omen and delay the marriage ceremony until the summer solstice. With as tentative as the peace is between my kingdom and yours, I humbly plead that she leave no later than one week from today.” 

“One week? That is not nearly enough time for my people to say goodbye to their princess, or for her to make preparations to leave as befits her station. You are already taking my only daughter away from me, and if I didn’t love my subjects as if they were my own children, I would rip up this betrothal scroll right now…” King Evert paused, and his face softened. “But I do love my people, as does the princess, and she will not allow any harm to come to them on her behalf. The betrothal will stand, and she will leave in two weeks to your blasted kingdom, not one minute sooner. If the pass freezes over and is impassable, then it is the will of the Moon Goddess and we will weather the consequences by her grace.”

King Evert threw the scroll on the ground in front of the Rhinneans. The ambassador bowed deeply, picked it up, and returned to his delegation. They were then escorted to the back of the room, where they stood surrounded by guards. 

King Evert wet his lips and sipped from his cup of wine before setting it to the side. 

“Lord Soren Kierson, step forward.” 

Annalise’s eyes immediately found Soren’s form. His walk as he navigated through the crowd of nobles was elegant yet powerful, and she could picture him strolling across the deck of a rolling ship as easily as if it were solid ground. 

Soren bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty, how may I assist you?” 

“Soren Kierson, your arrival yesterday was most timely; truly, it must have been engineered by the hands of the goddess herself. You are familiar with my daughter, correct? I seem to remember you two being quite fond of each other as playmates when you were children.” 

“I am,” Soren said, keeping his eyes on the king. 

“Then you shall be her knight and protector on her journey to Rhinnea. It is your duty to ensure that she arrives safely with her dowry to be wed to their new king.”

Soren started to bow again, but paused when the king continued on. “And because the blood of her snake mother runs through her veins, polluting her with its curse, your job is also to ensure that no one touches her until she marries the Rhinnean king.” The king leaned forward in his seat, his brow furrowed and a cruel gleam in his eyes. “I won’t have her causing trouble on the road, or a diplomatic incident when she gets to their capital. Once she marries him, she’ll be their problem. You understand me, boy? If Annalise attempts to escape or to attack anyone either on your journey, or once she reaches their capital, Rea, this crown will consider her a traitor and you are to kill her.”

Soren remained frozen in his half-bow. From her seat, Annalise thought she saw his jaw clench, but then it was gone and she told herself it was a trick of the light. “I understand, Your Majesty.” 

“Good.” King Evert leaned back, one hand tracing the rings on the other. “You were formerly a captain on the sea, and now you shall also be one on land. Henceforth, I elevate you to the rank of captain in our Royal Guard. Until Princess Annalise stands before the marriage altar, you will be her stalwart companion, head of her security, and you will guard her with your own life.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not let you down.” Soren bowed deeply, first to King Evert, then to Annalise, before returning to his position next to his father seated in the first row of the court. 

Annalise’s head swam as her father motioned for the other supplicants to come forward. Fortunately, she was not required to do anything beyond listen and remain awake. When her mother was alive, the queen had frequent petitioners, but she’d paid for it in bruises behind closed doors. After Queen Elvira’s death, several concubines had attempted to start a trend with shorter sleeves, but invariably anyone who spent personal time with King Evert realized that Queen Elvira’s sleeves were more practical than a mere fashion statement.

Thanks to Annalise’s curse, her father kept his distance from her. 

The morning turned into early afternoon, but King Evert showed no sign of stopping for lunch. At one point, the head butler set out a table of food for the king, and brought Annalise a plate of cut meats, cheeses, and fruit that she could easily slip under her mask. Finally, as the sun began its descent, King Evert stood. “We will break today and reconvene tomorrow. Larken, you may attend me.”

Larken, who’d sat the entire day in the front row opposite the High General, fanned by several ladies looking to curry favor, ascended the steps, one hand on her belly. Her light blue gown showed off the whiteness of her skin and the pearls woven into her hair. Without so much as a glance at Annalise, she placed her hand on King Evert’s arm and followed him to his private chambers. 

As was her habit, Annalise waited until the door closed behind the king, then stood and exited through the opposite one. When she was sure no one could see her, she lifted her skirts and hurried directly to her chambers on the opposite side of the castle. 

“Your Highness, I heard the awful news. Do you need anything? Smelling salts? A warm compress? A cup of tea?” Priscilla asked the moment Annalise entered her room. 

Her chambers comprised four rooms: the living room, which connected to the hallway, her bedroom, a maid’s bedroom, and a bathing room. The colors in her chambers were those of Dovea itself–silver for the sheep that gave them their clothing and their wealth and the soft blue of the sky. Dovea was a kingdom of shepherds and crafters and most of her things were Dovean made even if the raw materials were sourced from other kingdoms. The dark wood of her furniture was from Yblis, the kingdom of the forests to the east, and woven baskets that contained her weaving yarn hailed from Vintreal, the fishing kingdom to the south. Soft light-green curtains stitched with silver thread fluttered in the autumn wind, leaving the air in the room fresh with just a hint of chill. 

Annalise’s spacious chambers were certainly meant for a crown prince. Though she’d spent her life within their confines, there were still times when she felt as though the murals painted on the walls and ceilings—animals, hunters, and maidens gathering flowers—were looking down on her in distaste and disappointment. Dovea had no crown prince, they had only her, a crown princess who couldn’t even allow her people to touch her or see her face. 

“Tea would be lovely, thank you, Priscilla. You should probably make extra—I believe Captain Kierson will pay us a visit soon.” 

“This is the young man you were telling me about yesterday? The one who was your friend when you were younger?” 

Annalise nodded and undid the ribbons of her mask, setting it on the side table where it belonged when not in use. Safely ensconced in her room and away from the prying eyes of the public, she allowed herself a moment to breathe as Priscilla prepared the tea. 

She sat at the small table next to the window so that she could overlook the garden and take comfort in its autumnal beauty. 

Priscilla had just poured a cup of steaming tea when there was a knock at the door. With a nod from Annalise, the maid went to see who it was.

Annalise took one sip of tea before setting the cup down, noting that her hands shook slightly just before the bottom of the cup met the saucer. 

Priscilla spoke to the person at the door, but kept it mostly closed out of respect for Annalise’s privacy. The deep voice that replied to Priscilla’s question somehow both set Annalise’s mind at ease and made her heart race.  

Priscilla closed the door and looked at Annalise. “Your Highness, it’s Captain Kierson. Do you wish to receive him now, or should he come back later once you’ve properly rested?” 

Annalise blew carefully on her cup and took another sip to fortify herself. “You may let him in.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

Annalise kept her eyes forward as the heavy wooden door scraped on the floor.

“Shall I retrieve your mask, Your Highness?” Priscilla asked as she shut the door behind Soren. 

Indecision froze Annalise, and her lack of action sealed her fate. 

“Please if you don’t mind, I’d prefer it stay where it is,” Soren said. There was an odd softness to his tone that gave Annalise the courage to turn and look at him. It had been years since he’d last seen her face, and while she would never be so falsely modest as to think she was plain, a small part of her wondered how she stacked up against the flowers of the court like Lady Evelina.  

Soren froze mid-step. His eyes widened, and his lips parted.

They stared at each other for nearly a minute as his gaze flicked back and forth over her face. Finally, just as Annalise wondered if she should say something, he swallowed and looked away. 

“I’m sorry if I am not what you were expecting,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I was just taking some tea. You can join me if you’d like, or I can finish this cup and put the mask back on before we catch up.” 

“No, please, that’s not necessary. I would love a cup of tea,” he said as he prowled across the room, the sound of his footsteps surprisingly heavy for a man who moved as gracefully as he did.  

“Here are some biscuits, cookies, and cake to snack on. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be working on my embroidery in the corner,” Priscilla said, setting a plate piled with baked goods between them and a small plate to either side.

Soren took the seat across from Annalise and looked out the window. The table was low, and from her vantage point, she could see his fists clenched tightly in his lap and the way his knee bounced. 

Annalise guessed he was upset about the assignment her father had given him and wanted to make amends. “I apologize for earlier in court. I’m afraid even if I’d known of my father’s request for you ahead of time, I couldn’t have stopped it, but I do wish he’d chosen someone else.” 

Soren’s gaze cut towards her, and he went still. “You do?” 

She sipped her tea and chose a small cookie from the plate, grateful that her gloves were still on. “Of course. You just returned home to Dovea; I’m sure being sent away so suddenly is quite bothersome.” 

For some reason, Soren relaxed at her words. He exhaled, and his shoulders drooped infinitesimally, then he took his cup of tea and brought it to his lips, eyes flicking between her and the garden outside. “Actually, it’s no bother at all. You were one of the reasons I came back to Dovea, after all.” 

“I was?” 

“Of course.” A teasing smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I wanted to make sure you’d received all my letters. My paper, ink, and postage expenses were starting to pile up.”

Her face flushed with heat, and she looked everywhere but at him. “I did get your letters. They were wonderful; thank you for sending them. You must think me very rude for my lack of response. I fear that after the death of my mother, I had little to say, and I doubt my governesses would have approved of my writing you.”

“I expected no response; not after I heard what happened. You must think me terribly self-absorbed for continuing to write for so long.”

“No!” The strength of Annalise’s denial surprised even herself. She glanced at Soren’s eyes long enough to register that they’d widened at her outburst, and then looked away again as another flush of heat suffused her cheeks. “When you left, you promised you’d write, and you kept your word. Your letters were wonderful. They took me away to distant lands and gave me something to look forward to. I will treasure them always.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His deep voice lightened and curled as if he was holding back a snort of laughter. “But to answer your question seriously, I returned because I’d heard that my childhood best friend had grown into quite the beautiful young lady and couldn’t believe that the girl with mud on her skirts and leaves in her hair could be anything more than a regular ragamuffin.” 

She steeled herself for judgment and lifted her eyes to his. “And? What do you think now?” 

He stared at her as he sipped his tea, as he reached for something off the plate between them, and even as he bit into the cookie. Unlike just a few minutes before, when his eyes had jumped over her face and form like a sparrow searching for seed, now his gaze lingered and traced in smooth lines, as if he as if he was studying her features and committing them to memory.  

Annalise waited… and when no answer was forthcoming, realized with a start that she’d placed him in an awkward position. As the newly minted captain of her guard, he needed to remain in her good graces, but the Soren she knew, while not afraid to flatter, was also unflinchingly honest. If her features were not to his liking, she may have forced him to make a difficult decision. 

“You don’t have to answer me; your silence speaks volumes. Here, I’m practically done with my tea. I’ll put my mask on, and you can regale Priscilla and me with tales of your time at sea like you promised last night,” she said, setting her cup on its saucer and making to stand. 

“No, wait.” 

She froze halfway out of her chair and looked down at her forearm, where Soren’s hand rested, stopping her from moving away. Her blood stilled, then pounded like a war drum when she registered he was wearing gloves again, and that her long sleeves had remained in place. 

“Please don’t take offense at my silence. I was simply trying to figure out how to say that the port gossip didn’t nearly do you justice.” Soren’s mouth opened, shut, and then he wet his lips and his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “You are an exquisite creature made of sunlight and open sky, and it’s a travesty that you must hide behind that mask when your beauty so clearly deserves to be worshipped.” 

Annalise looked from his hands to his eyes, which burned with a strange fire that struck her speechless. 

He tugged on her arm, and she allowed herself to sink back into her chair. A faint blush tinged Soren’s cheeks as he picked up the teapot and refilled each of their cups. “Please excuse my impertinence just now, Princess Annalise. I’m afraid I was quite unprepared to see you without your mask and have not been the most courteous visitor. I will endeavor to rectify my performance moving forward.” 

“All is forgiven as long as you promise me that this isn’t all a ploy to get out of telling me about your adventures at sea. Your letters were rather short and didn’t nearly do them the justice I suspect they deserve,” Annalise replied once she found her voice. 

“I’ll tell you as many stories as you would like, Your Highness. Where would you wish for me to start? With the drunk seagull? The worst storm we ever had? The time that our cook accidentally ordered a barrel full of salted beets instead of one full of salted beef?”

Annalise considered his offer, then smiled. “I’d like you to start at the very beginning, with your first day on the ship.”