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Kallie nodded.
“All right,” Myra said, shifting on her feet. She bit down on her lip. “If you need anything, though—”
Kallie dropped Myra’s hand. “I’m fine, Mys. Truly.”
Myra sighed but nodded and left the room, tossing a small, sad smile at Kallie before she closed the door behind her.
Kallie squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten.
Myra’s presence was usually a comfort Kallie sought out, but today, she couldn’t bear to see those sweet, hazel eyes staring at her, full of sympathy.
At ten, Kallie headed into the attached bathing chambers. She found the pail of water she had requested last night already waiting for her. The coals beneath the water bucket were growing cold. She dipped a finger in the water. Still warm. Not bothering to fill the tub, Kallie let her nightdress fall to the floor and stepped into the tub. The mint and rose scent of the soap filled the air, and she scrubbed away the lingering stench of the sea from her skin. If only the water could wash away the dirt beneath her skin.
Once done, she dried off and put on the robe lying on the stool beside the tub. As she towel-dried her hair, she headed toward the chests filled with her belongings and ignored the wrinkled light blue dress Myra had picked out. The chest’s hinges creaked when she pried it open, and various shades of blue spilled out. She pushed past the scratchy fabrics. Since the trunks had been packed in Ardentol at the king’s request, Kallie had no say in the items inside and did not have the energy to examine them on the ship. She snatched a dark navy dress that, in the shadows, appeared black and readied herself.
She had a king to meet.
* * *
The latch clicked behind her,and Kallie slipped into the vacant hall.
Flickering shadows danced across the dark stone walls. With only a few windows sprinkled across the palace walls, the primary light source came from scattered torches.
This was not what she expected of the military stronghold. Then again, Kallie never had time to think about her future home since she had been focused on the Pontian mission. Before, it was more important for her to learn about the island’s layout than it was to know about Frenzia’s. That mission posed more danger since her cover could have been blown at any minute. If Fynn had been able to break through the manipulation she had placed upon him during their dance that first night and read her thoughts, everything would have been ruined. There had been no room for mistakes.
However, as Kallie wandered through the halls alone past dawn, she regretted her negligence.
These days, regret was a shadow trailing after her. And with each passing day, the shadow only grew longer.
She did what she had to do for her people, for her crown, Kallie reminded herself. She needed to focus on that and follow the plan: win the king’s heart, finalize their marriage, and steal his throne.
To do that, she needed to findKing Rian.
Based on the simple blueprints of the castle she had previously studied, the queen’s quarters were not too far from the king’s. Kallie envisioned the map as she continued down the path.
As she walked, she surveyed the castle and drew a mental list of things she wanted to change and add, like vibrant paintings, mirrors, and perhaps a small liquor cabinet for her rooms.
When Kallie reached the end of the hall, a single window overlooked the small garden, and Kallie peered through it, her palms pressing against the window sill. Rose bushes lined the castle’s exterior walls and formed a circle around a solitary bench. In the early morning hours, a thick blanket of fog crept over the ground and crawled toward the flowers, filling any nook it could find. Through the mist, Kallie spotted a few scarlet buds preparing to bloom, a blood stain on the fallen clouds.
For a moment, Kallie’s gaze lingered there. When nausea returned, she forced her attention beyond the garden. Pine trees were scattered across the property before leading to the black iron fence that encircled the palace’s perimeter. All in all, the castle’s landscape was muted. The colors dull, the air thick with a haze. Even outside the castle, the kingdom mourned their late king, who had passed two months ago. Death was written all over the castle’s walls and lands as though there was no escaping it. As if a permanent mark of grief stained the earth.
Kallie bit down, her jaw clenching.
She went to pull away from the window but stopped when she spotted a lit candle sitting on a window sill in one of the other towers. In the flickering light, a golden crown sparkled.
Triumph twitched at her lips.
Found you.
King Rian might have refused to greet her last night, but Kallie didn’t have a problem going to him first. She would be cordial, kind. She would be the good little princess her father trained her to be. Whatever it took to win the young king’s heart.
Then, she would do what she was best at: she would stab it.
* * *
Portraits framedin gold-coated wood covered the hall of the king’s wing. It was the first area of the castle Kallie had visited that had any decor on the walls.
To her left was the portrait of Lothian Dronias. It had been years since she had seen him in person. The former king stared at her with a blank expression, bringing with it a pang of guilt that Kallie immediately swallowed. The central point of his golden crown was painted with a steady hand, its point as sharp as an arrow and embellished with bright red rubies. The crown was the only object painted with such precision and detail besides the king himself. The charcoal background was blurred out, having been deemed unimportant by the artist.
