Aria strode toward the door, and Eliza scrambled to catchup. Together, the two of them went to meet the man Aria was determined to court.
Lord Kendall waited in the music room. He had presented himself to the king that morning, so Aria’s father was nowhere to be seen, although her mother sat at the harp and urged them to “pay her no mind.” As if a queen could be so easily ignored.
Queen Marian practically lived in the music room; the only thing missing was her wardrobe. She’d already had the servants bring her a couch for relaxing and a writing desk for composing. There was even a small table to use when taking her meals. She didn’t go about in her dressing gown, thankfully, but she wore a casual set of trousers beneath a ruffled shirt without even a vest over the top.
Lord Kendall stole enough furrowed-brow glances at Her Majesty to make his discomfort at the situation clear.
One of the attendant guards made the formal announcement: Kendall Crampton, second son of Duke Robert Crampton, with hope to court Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Aria de Loegria, daughter of His Royal Majesty ...
The long introduction gave Aria the opportunity to study her chosen suitor. She’d surely crossed paths with him at court functions before; there was a familiarity to his lanky build and awkward elbows, which extended like the wings of a flustered chicken.
Unflattering comparisons. Mark.
“Your Royal Highness!” Despite his chicken elbows, Lord Kendall swept an elegant bow, turning to offer the same gesture to Eliza, which she answered with an equally elegant curtsy.
Aria—her legs aching and her fatigue bordering on comatose—gave a dip well beneath the dignity of any crown princess.
She saw her mother frown from the corner.
Eliza spoke at once, gushing about how wonderful it was to host Lord Kendall and how he would not be disappointed by Aria. Aria gave an inward wince at the implications there, but at least Eliza dominated the conversation as she’d hoped. It was a good five minutes before Kendall snuck in a word to Aria.
“Might I serenade you, Your Highness?” he gestured to the nearby harpsichord. “My musicality is quite boasted of across our estate.”
“Ooh.” Eliza beamed. “Amusician. It’s said only the tenderest of hearts can speak music.”
Said only by their mother, who smiled as Eliza spoke.
The queen offered to accompany Lord Kendall, which set the room in motion as servants arranged chairs and instruments so the queen and lord could take their respective places.
Aria couldn’t think of an appropriate protest.
I don’t wish to hear you play.That would be beyond rude.
I would prefer an activity in the fresh air.Selfish.
I am under a curse and would trade this entire castle for a single night’s sleep.
Well, she could not saythat.
Finally, Aria took her place as an audience member beside an enthusiastic Eliza, who leaned close to bump their arms together.
“How do you find his eyes?” Aria whispered.
Eliza closed her own eyes, fanning herself with one hand.
Perhaps in addition to stealing her sleep, Aria’s curse had also rendered her blind to dreaminess. In her estimation, Kendall’s eyes seemed an ordinary hazel, not unflattering, but simply ... murky.
In comparison, Aria’s mind offered her a memory of striking green eyes. Tawny hair. An extended cup of tea, and a hesitant, gentle voice.Something to ease your tiredness.
Had he known of her curse or was he only observant? Was it all somehow a trap?
Or was it simply ... kindness from a Caster?
Lord Kendall’s performance began, a soothing, syrupy melody that could only be meant for hushing colicky babies. The queen’s harp crooned along in alluring harmony, never a sour note to jar the performance.
Aria stood no chance.
Eliza poked her in the side, and Aria woke, sitting rigid as sweat broke out across her skin.
