In a meeting with her father that morning, the king told her he hoped all of Rozaria’s experiments had been burned on the island, but Aerity wasn’t holding her breath. Soldiers were out searching for the Lashed woman to punish her for her crimes. In the meantime, word had been sent to Kalor about their murderous citizen, and King Charles awaited Prince Kalieno’s response.
“She could have lied about being an heir of Rocato,” the king told Aerity in his office. “She could be lying about all of it.” King Charles had seemed especially appalled by the thought that Prince Kalieno might be going against the mutual laws of all Eurona by openly allowing magic.
“I don’t think so, Father.” Aerity pressed a hand against her abdomen, which had been wrapped tightly under her dress.
“Rocato was killed during the uprising. No one has ever spoken of him having a family.”
“Perhaps they did not know he had one,” Aerity said. “If he always had a rebellious heart, maybe he kept his family hidden for their own safety.”
The king leaned against his desk, running a hand over his short beard. “Aye. It could be. We shall speak of her crimes to no one. Only the royal family and my elite advisers shall know this beast was created at the hands of a Lashed.”
Aerity shivered and nodded, understanding. The people could not find out or there’d be an uprising against innocent Lashed.
“We will find her, Aerity. It’s a blessing from the sea that you girls are safe and the beast is dead. Lord Alvi will make a fine husband—your mother and I are glad for such a handsome match. Our ties to Ascomanni have been strained over the years. This arrangement will greatly help. A win-win for all.” Aerity’s stomach clenched at his happy assurance. He had no idea how much she and Lord Alvi were not a fine match. She gave a curt nod and left her father’s office.
The royal lands had been opened to the public for the betrothal ceremony. Today, the king would publicly announce Aerity’s engagement to the foreign lord. Normally, the people of Lochlanach were not keen on change—Lochlans tended to be distrustful, traditional people. Lord Lief Alvi, however, was a special exception. Not only were the women swooning over his handsome, regal airs but every person felt indebted and grateful to him for killing the beast that had terrorized them. The curfew had been lifted. People celebrated with bonfires into the night and revelries grander than any holiday.
But within the castle there were no raised spirits. The Lochsons, Baycreeks, and Wavecrests could sense the sadness emanating from Princess Aerity and Lady Wyneth. Though they did not know all the reasons for the darkness surrounding the girls, each family felt it intensely.
“They’re traumatized by what happened on that island . . .” Aerity had heard Lady Ashley whisper to her mother as the women tried to make sense of the castle’s mood.
“Aye,” her mother had answered. “All three of them facing the beast . . . My own Aerity playing a part in its death! Can you imagine? I’ve been on my knees, thanking the seas each day that they were unharmed.”
“Perhaps they weren’t harmed physically,” her aunt whispered, “but I daresay a great damage has been done. They haven’t spoken more than a few words this week.”
“Indeed . . . but that shall pass with time. They will heal.”
Her mother had sounded so certain. Yet her mother only knew half the story.
Aerity closed her eyes against the reflected image of herself, the intricate braid winding around her head and falling over her shoulder. A bejeweled circlet draped around her head, across her forehead, a round diamond hanging heavily at the crown between her eyes. She certainly looked the part, though she didn’t feel it.
She and Wyneth had scarcely made eye contact all week. Even when they sat side by side at meals. One of them would reach beneath the table and take the other’s hand, squeezing tightly, but they did not speak or meet each others’ gaze.
The last thing the princess wanted was to marry Lord Alvi next month at the winter gala.
Lost in her thoughts, the knock at her chamber door made Aerity jump. Everyone should have been in the High Hall by now.
Aerity crept to the door and opened it a crack. Her breath caught at the sight of Lord Alvi himself, blond locks tucked behind his ears, and the finest rabbit furs lining his vest and boots. Aerity opened the door further and peeked around him—not a soul in sight. Still, it wasn’t proper for him to come to her chambers, or the women’s hall at all. Behind him, Aerity saw Caitrin poke her head around the corner, her eyebrows raised and a questioning, guilty look on her face.
Aerity sighed and nodded, stepping aside to let him in. She kept the door open a crack.
Lord Alvi took one of her hands between both of his warm ones. His light blue eyes were like cool, melting ice. “You look lovely, Princess.”
His presence made her heart race with nervousness. If it weren’t for the complication of Wyneth, or the fact that her heart was with Paxton, she might have felt something for this brave, powerful, handsome man. But as it was, she could not see him as her own.
Her throat was dry, making her voice a raspy whisper. “Thank you.”
“I know it’s not me that you would prefer to see before you.”