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Rian stood tall, his back straight, his hands neatly folded behind his back. Beside him, Sebastian held his head high. He, like Rian, was wearing all black. Unlike his brother, his stance exuded an arrogance that dared to be squashed.
A slight smirk slipped onto Kallie’s countenance as she thought of how Graeson had bested him during the Last Dance and outmaneuvered the prince. But the smirk was wiped clean when she thought of the threat her father held over her. Kallie needed to prove to her father that the young Frenzian king was more valuable than his brother, that Rian wasn’t just obsessed with fairy tales. With Rian alive and serving as her mouthpiece, she would use him to command the kingdom. The people would remain loyal to him and Kallie. There would be no need for heirs or second marriages.
She only hoped that Rian and whatever knowledge he held would be enough to sedate her father’s thirst.
Domitius would get what he wanted, and so would she.
Kallie still had yet to inform anyone about the Pontian sighting, but it was of no consequence. There were dozens of guards out tonight. Graeson would have been foolish to try anything. If he were smart, he would be on his way back to Pontia.
At the front of the stage, Jacquin continued, “It is both a celebration of life and death. When two people take part in the marital rites, their old lives are set to the wayside as they embark on a new journey together. However, before two people marry, they must decide to choose one another. They must entice the other, charm the other, and form an everlasting bond with their chosen partner. The hunt represents the patience it takes to create these bonds, the cunningness to sway the heart, and, most importantly, the strength to keep those bonds strong.” Jacquin glanced over his shoulder, and shadows slipped over his face as he turned away from the torches and looked toward the line of royals behind him. “King Rian has already captured the heart of the princess. She has chosen him. But the question remains: can she capture him? Can she tell him apart from the others?”
Kallie held back a snort, the resulting sound a mix between a cough and a gurgle. Her father peered down at her, annoyed.
“Ladies, please step forward.”
Kallie’s brows furrowed as she watched three dozen women step forward, most of whom were around Kallie’s age, give or take a few years. Some of the women Kallie had seen around the castle, strolling through the gardens or lounging in one of the gathering halls. Others she had just met a day or two at the dinner or during the ladies’ tea. She recognized a few women from the other kingdoms.
Rian cleared his throat, and Kallie glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He tipped his chin forward. Kallie scanned the crowd again, her brows knitting together.
In front of her, Jacquin held out a hand. “Princess, will you please join the women?”
Kallie stood momentarily frozen as she pieced everything together.
The woman’s question at the tea, Myra’s small interrogation, Jacquin’s words—this was indeed not a normal hunt as Kallie once thought. What had Jacquin said? Something about Kallie being able to capture Rian? This hunt was not some extravagant display of raw masculinity but rather some frivolous test of a woman’s loyalty and faithfulness. Yet the people in the crowd, women and men alike, all cheered, their excitement echoing in the forest behind them.
Her father raised an impatient brow at her.
“Of course,” Kallie said with a small smile as she stepped forward and headed for the steps.
As she passed, the women gave Kallie a wide berth before they dipped into curtsies. Both pleasant smiles and jealous glares greeted her. And although Kallie now stood alongside the women, she wasn’t one of them. She didn’t belong among the Frenzian women, nor did she quite belong with the foreigners. Here, she was the future queen, not a lady of the court, guest, or hostess. She was something in between, something beyond yet further away.
Wasn’t this the life she had chosen, though?
Once Kallie was settled, Jacquin moved on. “Now, the men—please gather here to the right.”
A hoard of men separated from the crowd, grouping in the spot Jacquin had directed. Rian followed after them, tipping his head to his mother.
It was strange seeing Rian in the middle of the other men. He, like Kallie, had always been forced apart from the other people his age. He had been raised separate from his counterparts, always standing out, always something more. Yet, as Laurince whispered something into Rian’s ear and nudged him in his side, laughter spilled from the king’s lips. The smile hid the exhaustion that plagued his mind. It was sweet, innocent, joyful. A smile fitting for his face, a smile that made it appear as if he belonged among the crowd of young men.
Even more, it was an expression that reminded Kallie just how young the king was—how youngbothof them were. Neither of them was older than five and twenty. Yet here they stood: rulers of kingdoms—or nearly, in Kallie’s case.
All the rulers Kallie had grown up around were older and more mature. They were serious and stern. She had learned to follow that path—to be cold and disinterested. It had become second nature when she was around her father or his advisors in Ardentol. Kallie had been led to believe that if one showed a trace of humor or enjoyment, they were not a serious leader and, as a result, could not be taken seriously.
So, Kallie had long ago shaved away those pieces of her. Hid them away when she was in the presence of rulers, staff, or citizens of her kingdom until she didn’t even recognize those parts of herself when they snuck out. Kallie had become the version of herself they wanted to see: the meek, innocent princess who listened attentively, who held her tongue. Someone who could be trusted to remain in line.
Kallie once believed that to lead her own people, she would have to forgo the laughter, the jokes, the fun. But here Rian was, smiling and jokingwith his friends. When his laughter soared through the air, the thick noise reminded her of Fynn. It was a laugh that infected those around him, forced smiles on everyone’s faces, and made everyone feel welcome and a part of some secret group.
Kallie bit down on her tongue to the point where water threatened to gather behind her eyes.
She was not them. She was not her brother or Rian. She could not afford slips in her demeanor. She had not been handed a crown. She had been raised to take one.
Chapter44
KALLIE
A layerof sweat coated her palms as the light from the torches licked the dark black metal in Rian’s hands. The Frenzian men put on the helmets sitting on the table. Spikes lined the comb of the helmet and spanned to the front, where a dragon’s head had been carved into the metal. Even from afar, Kallie could see the flames flickering across the scales carved across the dragon’s metal form as its head and neck wrapped around the helmet. The nose and top jaw of the steel dragon formed the visor of the helmet. Within its mouth, sharp onyx teeth pointed down, protecting the men’s faces while simultaneously swallowing them whole. The light bounced off the metal teeth as if the dragon were alive, preparing to spit fire. When Rian turned, Kallie’s attention caught on a glittering blood-red ruby embedded into the dragon’s eye that twinkled beneath the moonlight.
There was no doubt that the helmet was beautifully crafted. In truth, it was extravagant and fierce. Yet all the same, it made Kallie’s stomach turn as the image of her father’s bull helmet and the night that had haunted her dreams for over a decade surfaced. It had been weeks since Kallie had thought about that night, but now the memory was like a torrent inside her mind.
