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PROLOGUE
SHEWASLOST.Completelylost.
Henna dashed at her tears and bit her lip to stop the trembling turning into a sob. All she could see were thousands and thousands of tiny little green leaves everywhere she looked. This was useless. She turned back down the narrow path and around the corner, hope creeping into her heart until she came to another dead end. She was completely lost.
She wished her stepmother had never brought her to this stupid party. She felt as if she’d been stuck in the garden maze of Svardia’s royal palace for hours and was half convinced she’d still be here when night fell. What if no one came looking for her? What if no one found her? Heart pounding, she told herself she’d been stupid to believe that Viveca would wait for her. Her stepsister was only two years older than Henna and, though she didn’t want to admit it out loud, Viveca was mean.
Henna’s hair fell out of the band she’d tried to tie it back with and she angrily pulled at the short strands that had been cut by her stepmother’s hairdresser. Another tear threatened to spill onto her cheek. She’d loved her long hair. It reminded her of the way, every morning, her father had woven it into plaits and every night he had brushed it out for bedtime. At the top of a sob, the sharp sting of pain cut deep in her chest. She missed him so, so much. And no matter how many times Marcella told her that twelve years was too old to cry, and three years was too long to mourn, it didn’t stop the ache filling Henna’s entire body until she was exhausted and heavy and hurt. All the time.
She turned and went back the way she had come. Or at least the way she thought she’d come. She heard a laugh and her stomach twisted, imagining Viveca’s delight at her misery. The tears began to fall faster, the hurt began to throb harder and when she tripped over an overgrown root in the maze floor Henna wanted to stay on the floor and never get up.
Gravel bit painfully into the skin on her knees and palms and even as the muffled voice—deeper than her sister’s—grew closer, she still couldn’t move. A tear fell into the dry dirt and she heard the voice tell someone to head back to the party and soon the sound of footsteps forced her to look up.
Immediately she regretted it. Of all the people who could have found her, it had to behim. For a second she wished ithadbeen Viveca. Not only was he the coolest boy at school, popular, top of his class in sports and smart too, he was also the Prince of Svardia. He must have been speaking to Kristine, his girlfriend. Even though some of the kids at school whispered about what a strange couple they were, she was kind and pretty too.
Prince Aleksander crouched down and Henna scuttled backwards in the dust, as if he were a dangerous creature. He raised his hands up and leaned back. ‘I just wanted to see if you were okay.’ He looked at her, his deep brown eyes unwavering. ‘My sister once got lost in here and it took us ages to find her.’
His words made her feel a little less foolish for getting lost, but not for trusting Viveca. The thought brought a fresh wave of heat to her cheeks and she stood up and dusted off her hands on the pale silk party dress. Marcella would kill her for ruining it.
Henna threw a glance at him, hoping it didn’t look like she was staring. Older than her by three years, the Prince had thick dark hair, eyes that were warm and a smile that was easy and offered to everyone. They’d nicknamed him Prince Charming at school because he was so nice.
‘Are you?’ he asked.
She looked blankly at him.
‘Okay?’ he repeated. There was laughter in his voice, but he wasn’t laughingather. The thought made her even more sad because she would never be someone he would laughwith. She nodded, but her face must have given her away because he narrowed his eyes on her and she looked away.
‘You’re Viveca’s half-sister?’
She nodded. He pulled a face that was so comically full of disgust Henna couldn’t help but smile.
‘Come on. We should get back to the party,’ he said, interrupting her chain of thought. His hand reached out to hers and she stared at it for a second before tentatively placing her hand in his. ‘Tell me,’ he asked, the curve of his lip welcoming and warm, ‘have you met my sister?’
And with that innocent question, little Henna had no idea how much her life was about to change.
CHAPTER ONE
FREYASTAREDATHER, startling amber eyes glistening and hands twisting in her lap. She mouthed the word ‘please’, the desperation in her eyes tearing at Henna in a way that made her helpless to do anything but whatever it was that the Princess of Svardia needed.
‘You know, it would serve you right if I refused,’ she groused, rolling her eyes as Freya sprang out of her chair, arms wrapping around Henna’s torso and pulling her into a series of jumps that threatened to topple the pile of carefully ordered paperwork on Henna’s desk.
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the best lady-in-waitingever!’ Freya cried.
‘I’m youronlylady-in-waiting,’ Henna said, unable to hide her smile at seeing her oldest friend so easily happy.
‘And you’re sure it’s okay? It’s not too much trouble?’ the Princess asked.
It would be a mountain of trouble and at least three hours’ extra work that evening, but Henna wouldn’t tell.
‘Of course. Now, go! You’ve got a handsome fiancé waiting to whisk you away for a secret escape to some exotic location in a private jet.’
Freya pressed her hands to her chest. ‘I do, don’t I?’ she said as if she couldn’t believe it herself.
‘Say hello to Kjell for me,’ she called as Freya disappeared through the door.
Henna sighed, staring at the literal mountain of paperwork on her desk, before making herself a coffee and settling back in front of her computer.
Kjell’s romantic gesture was sweet but it was going to be a little tricky to explain to the French Ambassador, who had expected to be meeting with Her Royal Highness at the end of this week. It would be the last getaway Kjell planned for a while, because once they were engaged he would be added to the roster for royal duties and would no longer be able to be so beautifully impromptu. In fact, Henna was half-convinced that waswhythe newly titled Duke had chosen to whisk Freya away two weeks before their engagement party.
