AQUA

The coronation passed by in a blur of droning words from the head of the noblemen’s Assembly, the unfamiliar weight of the crown on Aqua's head, and the stomach-churning knowledge that the eyes of AnDràzian nobility and the invited representatives from seven other kingdoms were focused on her. It was a relief when the ceremony concluded and the dancing began. At least now she had to deal only with the scrutiny of one dance partner at a time.

Also there were the delights of the buffet table to consider.

Three hours later, she was busy wishing a pox upon the ballroom and everyone in it.

She’d danced with every person who asked (oh joy).

She’d made small talk until she was in danger of losing her mind (more joy).

And she hadn’t put a single snack into the beaded bag that hung from her wrist (one giant stinking heap of joy).

Lord Hamish from the kingdom of Sprité had speculated that someone from the Assembly had poisoned the king, queen, and baby prince in the hope that Alistair (who is her brother by the way) would make a more malleable ruler. Sir Jabin of Monarcia had talked for ages about the economic ramifications of having a seventeen-year-old king whom half of AnDràz seemed to distrust. Lord Kadar of Beligni had winked and assured her that many a throne had been taken with bloodshed and there was no shame in it.

But none of the foreign guests was as bad as her partners from AnDràz itself. Each wore a black cravat in honor of the mourning period that would continue for another three weeks. And each asked razor-sharp questions that both grieved and infuriated Ari. She had her answers memorized by now.

Yes, their father had asked them to leave the palace after the baby prince’s birth, but he hadn’t done so out of anger, and he’d given them a generous stipend to help them build a new life somewhere else. And no, she and her brother had no grudge from it.

A breeze drifted through the garden and cooled the heat from her skin.

She slipped her shoes off to let her feet sink into the luxurious carpet of grass that edged the bushes. Taking a bite of a crepe stuffed with beef and sweet cheese, she tipped her head back to gaze at the stars that dusted the heavens like sweet silver sugar.

Maybe, just maybe, somewhere in the night sky, her mother was looking down on her. Maybe she already knew the kind of trouble Ali was facing with his subjects. The kind of trouble she was having adjusting to being a real princess.

She closed her eyes and remembered her mother’s soft voice. Telling her not to scrub the floors because she’d chap her hands. Consoling her when the king refused to acknowledge her by weaving stories of poverty-stricken princesses who did heroic deeds and saved kingdoms. Urging her to take care of her brother, who lived beneath the weight of his father’s expectations without the benefit of his love.

“I’m trying,” she whispered, hoping her words would somehow find their way to her mother’s ears.

“What are we doing out here?” Razi asked as she came to stand beside her, the tray of wineglasses still in her hands.

“Escaping.” She opened her eyes.

“If I escape for too long, Mama will hear of it,” Razi warned, though she made no move to go back inside.

“I’ll cover for you. I can’t go back inside yet. If I have to suffer through one more conversation about how Father and his family died or why my brother is too young to take the throne, I’m going to forget how to be diplomatic.” Aqua took another bite of crepe.

“I doubt Ali would like that very much,” Razi said as she set her tray of wine down and stretched her back.

“What wouldn’t I like?” Alistair had left the ballroom and joined them. His black cravat was still perfectly tied, his dress coat impeccably smooth, but he looked haggard. As though a bone-deep weariness was consuming him. Maybe this was what being king did to a person.

Or maybe, like her, his night had been filled with people speculating about his ability to rule AnDràz and the possibility that the royal family’s death had been a convenient way for Ali to come into power.

“I was saying that you wouldn’t like Aqua to forget how to be diplomatic, Your Highness.” Razi lifted her hair from the back of her neck and turned toward the sea breeze.

“You don’t have to start calling me Your Highness simply because I’m king now.” Ali pressed his fingers to his forehead as if he had a headache and then looked at his sister. “And we really do need you to keep being diplomatic, though I’d love a front-row seat to you putting a few people in their place.”

“Point me in the right direction,” she said, and was rewarded with a weary smile.

“Things will settle.” His brother sounded cautious. “Once people see that I can work with the Assembly and that I can take a strong stand against the violence and crime that seem to be spreading out of the slums and into the city proper.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” A lean, immaculately dressed man with pale skin, auburn hair, and unnerving golden eyes stepped out of the garden and into the light of the lanterns.

Alistair sucked in a sharp breath. His voice shook as he asked, “What are you doing here? You weren’t invited.”

The man smiled, slow and cruel, and Aqua shivered.

In a voice like polished marble, he said, “Come now, dear boy. Did you really think something as inconsequential as a guest list could keep me away?”

She stared at the man, and then looked up at Ali’s face.

Her brother’s lips were set in a thin line, and anger—for the first time since the night their mother had been killed by the queen’s hunter—lit his eyes. Without looking at her, he said quietly, “Aqua, Razi, go back to the ballroom.”

“I don’t think I should.” Aqua moved to stand by Ali while Razi took a tiny step back toward the ballroom door, torn between obeying her king and staying with her best friend.

He couldn’t be from VarLumé, because it was a sorceress, not a wizard, who controlled the land.

That meant he had to be a faerie.

And that meant her brother was in way over his head.

Ali took another step toward the man. “Open that door and leave us be. We’ve settled our terms. I owe you nothing for the next nine years and eleven months.”

Aqua stared at Ali, her mind racing to make sense of his words and coming up empty. The panic she’d felt in the ballroom earlier snaked through her veins again, sending her heart racing. What was going on?

The man smiled. “Didn’t read the fine print, did you?”

Alistair froze.

“Why do you think I wanted a king in my debt?”

Ali glanced at her, his gaze haunted.

The man closed the distance between them. “The fine print, my boy, says that you are to do nothing to impede my business in your kingdom. You cannot interfere with my activities. This is simply a courtesy visit to let you know that there will be a little trouble at the docks tomorrow morning, and that you are to order the city guard to stand down. In fact, stand them down in the merchant district as well. Not just tomorrow, but for the foreseeable future.”

She glared at the man while her heart pounded. She didn’t know what kind of business he had in AnDràz, but if he didn’t want Ali’s interference, it was likely he was part of the growing wave of crime and violence Ali’s new subjects desperately wanted him to end.

“And if I don’t?” Ali’s voice was full of the kind of bravado he used when he knew he’d been beaten but was refusing to admit it.

The man’s smile winked out. “Then you will pay your debt in full. Immediately. And nobody survives that.”

Ali’s shoulders bowed, and the man snapped his fingers again. The door flew open, and the guards tumbled out, but the man turned and disappeared into the darkness.

“We should go back inside,” Ali said quietly. “People must be looking for us by now.”

She dug in her heels and pulled him to a stop when he tried to move toward the ballroom. “That’s it? No explanation for the creepy little man with the debt he’s holding over your head?”

“No.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She glared at him. “Did you see what he did with the door? He has to be a faerie. Why are you mixed up with someone who can do magic? And what did he mean when he said that when you pay your debt in full, you won’t survive?”

Ali met her gaze, his expression fierce. “I was backed into a corner, and I had to make a bargain with him. It’s my problem, and I’ll deal with it. But you are going to stay out of this, and whatever you do, you are going to stay far away from Zane Regalus. Promise me.”

“Fine. I’ll stay away from him.” It was an easy promise to make. The man made her feel like she was dangling by a thread over a deep, black hole. But if her brother thought she was going to stay out of this and ignore the threat to her brother, he was a fool. It was the two of them against the world; and the last thing her brother needed to deal with on top of questions about the legitimacy of his kingship and an economy shaken by a spike in crime was a faerie threatening him over a bargain.

She couldn’t stop the nobility from questioning Ali’s ability to rule.

She couldn’t stop criminals from targeting AnDràz’ cities.

But she could figure out what kind of faerie creature Zane Regalus was, and maybe that would help Ali figure out how to get free of him.

Ali straightened his shoulders, nodded to Razi as she snatched up her tray of fizzy wine, and then took Aqua’s arm and gently steered her toward the ballroom.

She stayed by his side, smiling until her face felt like it would never resume a normal expression and gritting her teeth at the barbed questions and insinuations many AnDràzians tossed at her brother.

Ali was going to have to make time in his busy schedule to have a heart-to-heart with her about whatever bargain he’d struck. In the meantime, she’d start asking questions about Zane. If a faerie creature with magical power was in AnDràz, someone would’ve heard of it.

If that filthy faerie thought he was going to use the bargain he’d made with Ali to take her brother’s life, he was going to have to go through Aqua first.

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