It’s little wonder he and Prince Haldyn look so alike, given that he sired the Castellion line. While the Maker decreed that every king and queen must win their thrones,he ordained that only the firstborn sons of his House would inherit the Imperial Crown, thereby ensuring that his legacy would live on, and that his face, or at least one chillingly similar, be worn by every Ostacrian Emperor, for all of time.
I wonder how the prince must feel, as a descendant of the Maker, knowing that soon, very soon, he will leave behind his life as the light-wielding Castellion Heir and take his rightful place as the most powerful Etheri in the world.
My eyes linger on Vesta, then Morwenna, the Goddess whose blood runs through my veins and the Goddess who never seemed to hear my prayers, my whispers in the dead of night, a single plea – for my own power to be returned to me.
I think of the storm, of my drizzle, of ice coating and cracking a thousand glasses, of the eclipse darkening the skies and the brandmark glowing softly on the back of my hand.
If the full impact of my situation has not yet entirely hit me, it does now, over and over, as vast and as intimidating as this tapestry.
I take a step backwards, away from the prince. ‘Your Imperial Highness,’ I begin.
‘Hal,’ he says.
‘What?’
‘Hal,’ he repeats, glancing sideways at me. ‘My friends call me Hal.’
How unimposing his name sounds, cut in half and devoid of titles.
‘Hal, then,’ I continue. ‘I think there must be some kind of mistake. I don’t think I should be here. I don’t think I should be an Heir.’
The prince raises an eyebrow, jerking his head towards the tapestry. ‘Did you just question the will of the Gods?’
My stomach sinks. ‘I – no, I just –’ That’s when I notice he’s smiling. I exhale in relief. ‘Very funny.’
Hal’s smile fades slightly as he fixes me with those Castellion eyes, which hold neither the calculating consideration of his father’s nor the cold amusement of his uncle’s. ‘Like it or not, Blaze, you’ve been branded an Heir. And no matter what you feel, no matter what anybody says, I think you’d do well to start acting like one.’
I hold his gaze. ‘Is that what you would do?’
‘It’s what I do all the time,’ he says, his voice gentle. Then he grins. ‘You can’t hide under the table forever, you know.’
My blush deepens. ‘Ireallywish I hadn’t told you that.’
Hal moves forward, extending his arm once more. I take one last look at the Gods, then fall into step beside him.
As somebody unaccustomed to the company of others, I’m surprised by just how much I enjoy his, even if I can’t account for why he would seek out mine. Much like during our dance at Harglade Hall, I find myself savouring his undivided attention, his closeness, the lingering scent of lemons on his skin.
We soon find ourselves in a crowded passage, winding our way through a throng of courtiers until we reach the teeming banquet hall. Without meaning to, I grip his arm tighter.
He glances down at me. ‘You really hate all this, don’t you?’
‘I don’t much like being looked at,’ I admit as the stares burrow into me.
‘Perhaps you’d blend in a little better if I made myself scarce?’
Whispers dance around us as Hal deftly unhooks my hand from the crook of his elbow and bends to kiss it. As his lips touch my glowing brandmark, that strange, warm feeling seems to grow. Then he’s gone, disappeared into the crowd, and I feel suddenly cold.
The banquet hall is enormous. Five long tables are arranged at right angles to a golden dais. Five tables for five courts. Upon the dais is another table, smaller and made from solid gold. Behind it sit five golden thrones, the one in the middle the largest of all. Five thrones for five rulers. Below the dais, running parallel with it, is yet another table. I wonder who it’s for.
Tucking my brandhand into the folds of my skirt, I begin to make my way around the perimeter of the room, searching for my brother.
Right on cue, Flint appears at my side, dressed in a lavishly embroidered red doublet. ‘There you are.’
I manage a smile, relieved. ‘Here I am.’
He gives me a reproachful look. ‘I went to your rooms to find you and your serf told me you’d already left. Day one and you ditch me?’
‘I didn’tditchyou,’ I tell him. ‘What’d you want me to do, turn down the prince?’
