Page 9 of The Masked Princess

His father, who had been looking out the window, turned and stared at Soren with a grave expression. “Yes, that is true, although the topic is ill-favored by the king and no one talks about it. Be sure that you don’t bring it up at court unless you wish to weather his displeasure.”

Soren nodded, and his father turned back to the window, obviously done with any further conversations with his son.

Soren knew he was biased, but he had always thought that the Dovean royal castle was the most beautiful building he’d ever set eyes on. It was made of a mixture of light and dark gray stone and had three towers and a plethora of windows. The day was clear and sunny with barely a cloud in the late autumn sky, and blue and silver banners decorated the castle’s outer walls with Dovea’s emblem of two wolves guarding a lamb on a golden field.

As they stepped from the carriage and entered the castle, Soren’s eyebrows raised at the coats of arms, the great paintings and tapestries, and the abundance of silver decorations and sculptures in the hallway. “Dovea seems quite prosperous. Has it always been so? I fear I was too young to appreciate the wealth on display when I was here last,” he murmured to his father.

The high general glanced at Soren from the corner of his eye. “You are not wrong to wonder; King Everet wishes to build a legacy, and in recent years has wanted his castle to reflect the wealth of his nation so that visiting diplomats may be awed by the abundance the Goddess has blessed us with.”

Despite the lavish displays, when he entered the throne room, Soren had eyes only for the Dovean princess on the other end. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Annalise sitting in the chair reserved for the crown heir, hands folded in her long-sleeved gown and her face hidden behind a carved white mask. Her blonde hair was braided and held back by a thin silver band. Her gown was light blue and silver, the fabric reminding him of a sunny day on a winter sea. The mask only added to the effect, as if she was too beautiful for the gaze of mere mortals. Her blue eyes were the only part of her visible, and not even the shadows of her mask could dim their brightness. For just the briefest of moments, he paused and drank in the sight of her.

The priests told stories of the Moon Goddess descending from the heavens to walk among the mortals, spreading her wisdom and healing knowledge, and granting boons to any who asked. Known as just the Goddess colloquially, she was the patron deity of wisdom, truth, and healing.

Standing in the throne room, looking at Annalise, Soren wondered if perhaps the Goddess hadn’t taken form once more.

When the footman announced his name, Annalise straightened just slightly in her ornately carved wooden chair and lifted her head toward him as if in recognition. A small part of Soren had worried she’d forgotten him in the time he was away—he’d written to her frequently, but with his sailing schedule receiving letters was nearly impossible, and he’d neither expected nor received any in return. Now, buoyed by the smallest sign of her interest, his confidence returned and his breath caught in his throat. He walked down the length of the royal hall before dropping to one knee. Ostensibly, he knelt to his king, but in his heart of hearts, he was kneeling only to her.

“High General Kierson, is this your son?” King Everet asked.

“He is, Your Majesty. He has recently returned from abroad, where he earned the title of captain,” Soren’s father said from his position in the front row.

King Everet nodded and leaned forward, hands on his knees. His coat was of a dark navy edged with gold, and his golden crown perched on his dark hair. “This court has not seen your face in many years, Lord Soren. Rise and tell us where you have been.”

CHAPTER 7

Soren stood with his hands at his sides, shoulders back, and head up. “I was apprenticed to learn the trade of seafaring, Your Majesty, and have spent the past ten years in service on various vessels.”

“Judging from your title, it sounds like you did well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I earned the title of captain, but decided that I had been away from home for long enough and it was time to return.”

“You must have been quite lonely at sea. As the son of my highest ranking and most trusted general, and a future lord in your own right, I would say there is much you can learn here at court, and plenty of women to teach you,” King Everet said with a laugh.

The lords and ladies behind Soren tittered their amusement.

He swallowed and glanced at the princess, whose attention he could feel even from the distance between them. “Actually, Your Majesty, I would like to enter your service.” As he made his request, Soren’s mind was far away, remembering how he and Annalise used to play together as children.

Much had changed since he’d left; in fact, in the handful of minutes he’d been in the castle, he noticed that the court’s atmosphere felt different. While Soren longed to ask for Annalise’s hand in marriage, he was nothing if not cautious, and his time at sea had taught him the importance of assessing how the wind blew. He would get reacquainted with both the workings of the court and with Annalise, and then, when the time was right and he was sure she returned his affections, he’d petition the king. He’d gained years of experience navigating the worst of storms and most perilous of routes, and he didn’t dare rush into anything without knowing where the dangers lie, both seen and unseen, with something so precious on the line.

“This court has heard your request, and we will grant you your wish. Once we have finished hearing other petitions, I’ll decide where you will serve,” King Everet said.

Soren bowed and returned to the crowd, finding a spot to stand at the side of the room. Not long after, a woman dressed in delicate finery approached him. Pearls and jewels were woven through her chestnut hair, which shone in the soft light from the large windows lining the walls and contrasted perfectly with the yellow and orange hues of her dress. Thin gold bracelets encircled her wrists, matching her filigree earrings.

She introduced herself to him as Lady Evelina Adrilla while they waited for the next supplicant to enter the room. When Soren made a witty comment, her laugh tinkled like bells, albeit just a touch louder than he would have expected for such a crowded place. A passing glance at the throne revealed the king glowering at them, his hands flexing on his thighs.

Soren excused himself and stepped away from Lady Evelina, and the king visibly relaxed. He continued moving, pushing his way near the front and took up a spot next to his father.

“Already making friends, I see,” his father said.

“Who is she?”

“Lady Evelina is the daughter of Lord Adrilla, who is a minor noble over several eastern villages. She’s rumored to be favored by the king and even had special attention afforded to her at dinner last night. You must be truly fortunate; she appears to like you.”

A pit of dread settled in Soren’s stomach; the tales of King Everet’s love for beautiful women and his tempers were legendary enough to stretch out to sea. “I’ll avoid her from here on out.”

His father didn’t respond beyond a curt nod, but Soren thought he saw something akin to approval in the older man’s eyes.

Not too long after Soren’s re-introduction, a Rhinnean delegation entered. Unlike the other supplicants, armed guards escorted them into the throne room and took up station between them and the king.