“You’re late again. Your shipments were due weeks ago. We had a deal.” The voice growled.
“The land is decaying faster than I can control. I have an entire territory that I need to feed.” Lioran’s voice boomed.
“Figure something out. Your people are farmers by trade. Kybar has deals riding on your missing crops, our market shelves are barren—fae won’t just be hungry here. Soon it’ll be everywhere. Will the future king let the other territories suffer while he only cares for his own?”
“Your territory makes the deals. Figure out how to leverage what I give you. Manage Kybar and I will manage Lythira. I have other more pressing matters to attend to,” Lioran responded.
Tension rolled through me, locking my muscles.
“Maybe if you weren’t so distracted with your special guest, you could focus on solving the problem.”
“What are you talking about?” Lioran’s voice faltered as he spoke, each word slower than the next.
“The Princess of Bailoc,” the voice said. “The one that crossed into your territory recently.”
“We should go.” Fyn leaned in close, whispering in my ear, but I couldn’t stop listening to their conversation—especially when it was about me.
“What makes you think she’s here?” Lioran’s voice fell flat.
“I don’t think she’s here—I know.”
The voice trailed off for a moment. Fyn tugged on the flowing sleeve of my lilac gown.
“We’re going…” Cora’s hushed warning trailed to me. “Aelira…” I shook my head. “Fine, I’m going then.” She began walking down the hall.
“Who are you dealing with, Pyrran?” Lioran’s voice was a guttural growl.
Pyrran scoffed. “Judging by the look on your face—you already know. I hear she’s extremely beautiful. Must be hard for you to resist her, brother.” I tried to turn, but my muscles refused—and still, their voices echoed. “Have you told them yet, or were you just waiting for me to tell them?”
“She may help Lythira—help this entire realm.” His words were cold and calculating.
My heart pumped frantically.
Was that all I was to him?
All this time I wondered what he felt for me—hoped to be something greater to him.
I wasn’t.
I was just a solution.
A tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away, my sleeve tugging at my skin. Fury swelled within me as his wordsrepeated in my mind. I exhaled, desperate to calm the storm, before I couldn’t any longer.
Fyn’s fingers curled around my wrist, pressing deeply. As I turned to leave, footsteps echoed behind us.
“Looks like you have company, brother.” The voice echoed through the corridor and the hairs stood on my arms. Cora stopped at the end of hall. Fyn and I slowly pivoted towards them. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
I recoiled under Lioran’s glare—the air escaped my lungs. His brother pushed his longer, flowing raven locks over his shoulder, as his brow furrowed.
“I am Princess Aelira of Bailoc. It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” The words tumbled off my lips effortlessly, as if I was standing in the grand hall at Bailoc.
“You’re just as beautiful as I was told.” Pyrran took my hand in his. His lips pressed against my knuckles—I inhaled, unable to exhale.
Lioran’s jaw locked.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” My formality vanished the moment I crossed the divide into Lythira, but I hadn’t forgotten how to act like a princess.
“Lady Cora, it is a pleasure to see you again. I’m surprised to see them both here.” A controlled smirk spread across Pyrran’s lips.
