Page 81 of The Crown’s Temptation

"There is one way," she said.

"An Arrolyn."

I did not know the word, but the memory did.

A preserved missing half of a Siren’s essence, forged and safeguarded until its bearer was strong enough to receive it. A portion was placed within me to keep me alive. The rest remained hidden until I was ready. Then came the vows.

Maridale, young and blue-gray eyed, knelt beside my mother and promised what she would one day fulfill.

Eravic stood beside her, a Vaelor carrying blood he did not yet understand, and made the same promise.

They would protect me.

They would find me when the time came.

They would give me what had been preserved.

They would do it because they owed her that.

Because Ryaran had saved their people.

Because Vaelors do not lie.

Plans and Princesses

SEVRIN

Sevrin opened his eyes. A wave of irritation moved through him. He was still in bed, still at Kelsey Castle, still without strength.

He smelled her immediately. He had started to grow accustomed to that scent. He was not sure how he had not detected it before. It was specific, neither quite Yorali nor quite feeder. And there was something strangely familiar about it he could not place.

She sat in the same chair as before and looked at him with the same expression and he looked back at her with the same patience he applied to most things that had not yet resolved themselves.

"You are better," she said.

"Marginally."

She rolled her eyes. “You are a king, it is just a scratch. A scratch that would be long since healed if you would fucking go to the Bloodhaven.”

His mouth twitched. “I was stabbed through the chest. It was a little more than a scratch.”

“A scratch nonetheless.”

He looked at her. Her gown was a deep purple satin, her neck smooth. Like Asharin's, he thought.

Without wanting to, he noted her beauty. And her curves. As his eyes moved down her neck to her chest, everything in him went cold.

There it was. A mark he had only ever seen on one other person. A wing of gold etched into her collarbone, the lines curving toward her left shoulder, gleaming against her skin.

The Mark of Forizan.

"There was no point in covering it here," she said simply.

He could not hide his surprise. His shock. So many questions moved through him. How had she hidden this? Why had she hidden it? Did her father know?

Likely the King of Yorali did not know, or he would have certainly used it as a bargaining tactic.

No, this princess of Yorali was many things. Interesting was certainly one of them.