A horrible storm had raged across the city of Tirnanog the following night. And in the morning, no trace of its people remained.
Our city, and all its people, had simply vanished.
The king had sent a handful of expeditions to investigate, but they found deadly storms where the city had once been. No one could even approach the outskirts, let alone the gates. After the deaths of several scouts and soldiers, they'd deemed the area too dangerous to approach.
And that was all I knew of what should have been my home.
"I want answers," I said, lifting my chin. "To lay my people to rest, if nothing more."
"I would not hope for anything more," the prince said softly. "But I did not ask to see you for such gloomy talk."
A joke tried to spring from my lips, but I held it back. I couldn't afford to throw away my chance with the prince. My actions needed to promise a cunning and well-mannered princess, not a court jester.
"Would you save me a dance at the ball?" Prince Laiserian asked. "I imagine you'll be swarmed with suitors, and I wouldn't want to miss my chance."
"Of course," I blurted out. "You can have the first."
Laiserian smiled and lifted my hand. "I look forward to it." He planted a kiss on my knuckles and bowed his head before walking away.
Pulling my arms back into my cloak, I watched his figure retreat into the snow and mist.
By the saints, was my far-fetched dream actually going to come to fruition? With the authority of a princess, maybe I could finally uncover the truth . . .
But I'd also be bound by a crown and forced to pretend for the rest of my life.
Rubbing my frozen nose, I heard a shout and turned around. A new boy had taken a seat on the tipping bench.
A mop of white hair, mis-matched freckles on his nose . . . I recognized him. Seamus, an irritating teenager who made a point of reminding Liam he was a “dirty foul-blood” every chance he got.
Trotting back to the lakeshore, I reached down and palmed a handful of snow, packing it into a ball. The flecks of white falling from the sky matched my hair and cloak. Maybe I'd appear as nothing more than a ghost in the mist.
The boys across the lake lobbed their snowballs across the water, missing the target. Focusing on the goal, I hurled mine.
Thwack.The ball of ice struck the sign, and the ropes holding the bench fell loose. Seamus screeched and plunged into the shallow lake.
A grin stretched across my face as I hurried away from the scene of the crime. Liam appeared from positively nowhere and joined my side.
"Nice shot," he commended. "Shall we go to the ball now, or would you prefer to play with the kids?"
"Did anyone see me?" I asked.
He smirked. "Not a soul."
Chapter 2
Mare
Muirashi had an odd way of ruling its cities. Governors and generals were one and the same—perhaps the city's coldness came from the press of martial law. Wherever I went, I'd spy a group of soldiers, watching, hands tight on their spears.
Nodding at the pair of guards stationed at the gates, I ascended the steps to the Governor's manor, errant little brother in tow.
The heavy doors closed behind us, sealing out the bitter cold. Breathing in the warm air, my gaze drifted from the soft candlelight hanging from the walls to the gatherings of nobles scattered around the hall.
Liam shrugged off his heavy cloak and dusted snow from his elegant brown coat.
"You look practically noble," I said.
"Fitting for someone who'salmostnoble," he agreed.
