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Chapter Text

I had just sat down at my window to sketch when my mother entered my room with little more than a knock. I was used to such intrusions, but as it was, I wished she’d at least announce herself, queen of Valiona or not.

“I have some exciting news,” she said. “You’ve been invited to the palace in Tanbarun for the summer.”

My immediate and involuntary response was to groan and say, “Why?”

“Charlamaine,” my mother scolded. “Must you be so ungrateful? You should be humbled to be invited back after what happened last time.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to go,” I said, putting my sketchbook down. So much for getting any drawing in today. “There’s no reason why they should want me back after I embarrassed His Highness.”

I used the word “embarrassed” lightly. In reality, Prince Raj had embarrassed me first by making unwanted advances toward me—after which I’d requested an early withdrawal from my summer residence at the palace, which had apparently wounded his fragile ego. That had been two years ago, which had led me to assume that he had been so offended by my rejection that he didn’t care to see me again. Just as well; I didn’t care to see him either after the way he’d acted toward me.

We’d known each other since we were children, so I knew how he could be, but I’d always made allowances for his spoiled behavior because of our closeness, even if it was our parents’ alliance that forced us to spend time together. It was easy to forgive him when he had such wonderful toys, most of which he didn’t care for. But since we’d come of age, things had gotten more uncomfortable as his behavior had gotten more inexcusable until I simply couldn’t turn a blind eye anymore. The kissing incident was simply the final nail in the coffin.

Mother sighed as she stood over me to fuss with my hair. Like hers, it was a deep purple, thick, long, and unruly if not properly pinned and coiffed. I preferred my hair to be down, but it did tend to take on a life of its own when left unsupervised.

“I have heard some rather curious rumors,” she said. “From both the ambassador to Tanbarun and your father the king’s correspondence with the king of Tanbarun.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you have,” I said pithily.

Mother gave me a stern look. “I’ve heard that Raj has changed much in the past two years. Grown up, perhaps. Turned a new leaf.”

I snorted. “Or he finally learned how to hide his foolishness from the public eye and operate in secret like every other corrupt noble.”

“Don’t be cynical,” Mother scolded, tugging on my hair a little harder than necessary as she pulled it back into a braid. “People can change. Royals can change.”

“Not royals like him,” I said. “You think I didn’t try to be a positive influence on him when we were together? I was always telling him he should be kinder to the servants, or his siblings, or even me. But he wouldn’t listen. He always had to justify himself. He always had to have his way.”

“This invitation is, I believe, intended as a belated apology. He must know on some level that he offended you. Now he wants to make things right. Shouldn’t you at least give him a chance to do so?”

I sighed, meeting my own eyes in the mirror. Golden brown, like topaz, so I’d been told. I always thought they looked more like yellow potato skins, but a princess could not have eyes the color of potato skins, so gemstones it was. Not that topaz was anything to write home about, either. It certainly wasn’t an emerald or a sapphire.

A chance for him to do what? Be even more vulgar and unpleasant? To try to win my affections again but this time with renewed fervor? This I thought, but didn’t say. Because the truth was, as dubious as I was about Raj’s alleged transformation, there was a part of me that wanted desperately to believe it. I wanted to see the boy I had sometimes considered my friend become the kind of person I could be friends with again. To see the goodness I had caught glimpses of when we were children come to full fruition.

Could it be possible? Maybe. But I would not let my guard down so easily.

“Fine,” I said. “I will go. I will give him one chance, but he had better know that the moment I catch wind of anything foul, I will leave even quicker than I did that last time without any regard to how embarrassing it might be.”

“I will draft a response with your acceptance immediately,” said Mother, leaving my hair in a half-up, half-down crown. “But I may word it just a bit more diplomatically than that.”

“Of course, Mother. Cushion his ego in whatever way you see fit.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I truly do not know where you get your wicked tongue. Certainly not from me. Your father, perhaps, when he was younger and more impertinent.”

“I could certainly see that.” Even now, my father the king was well-known for speaking his mind, sometimes at the expense of the nobility. He was a warrior, more suited for action than for words. My mother was the politician, groomed from birth to serve the nation. All things considered, I think they complimented each other rather well, and they loved each other, or at least my mother said so.

Once she’d left, I broke my posture so I could slouch into my desk chair in dismay. “Tanbarun,” I lamented. “For a whole summer.”

I knew what my parents and his parents wished: that Raj and I would marry. That, I assumed, had been the grand design behind making us spend so much time together in the first place. But even as the crown prince of his kingdom, he wasn’t expected to marry until he took the throne. Meanwhile, our cultures shared a common tradition: in royal marriages where a prince and princess were concerned, the princess had to consent to the arrangement.

Why such a concession? Too many unhappy princesses married to spoilt princes, I supposed. Or a general understanding that while princes were secured ascendency, princesses had to marry into it. Therefore, they were more than welcome to refuse an arrangement if there were better prospects available to them. In any case, it did afford me a unique advantage: my parents and his could push us and prod us all they wanted, but they couldn’t force us to marry each other. Only my “yes” would guarantee that. How that “yes” is coaxed from the princess’s mouth is another matter, but it must be declared aloud in the presence of at least two witnesses.

With much remorse, I recalled the last time I had visited Raj and the event that had resulted in my premature departure…

* * *

He’d dismissed all the servants. It was just him and I in his drawing room, which normally would not have alarmed me, but there was a hungry, mischievous look in his eyes, the kind of look he’d get when he was about to steal a dessert off the banquet table before the meal had begun.

“Is something the matter?” I had asked. This is it, I had thought. This is where he asks for my hand. And at the time, I had very mixed feelings about it. It didn’t necessarily sound like the best idea to me, nor did it sound like the worst; I had half convinced myself that I could stand to be married to him, that our familiarity with one another would be enough to carry us, even if he was a selfish brat who would surely bring his kingdom to ruin. Maybe I could rein him in, like my mother had done with my father—maybe I could be a buffer for the damage. Maybe familiarity would grow into respect, and respect would grow into love.

That’s what I’d told myself. I hadn’t thought much about how I actually felt about him other than that I’d always considered him attractive, but then I’d always attributed that to the indisputable fact of his family’s good genetics. I was also aware that I’d always had a soft spot for him, some sentimental mixture of pity and compassion. I might’ve said yes, had he asked me for my hand that night.

Had he asked.

“Finally, alone together,” he had said, a smarmy smile on his face. “Isn’t this much better?”

“I suppose so,” I’d said. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Talking is so tedious,” he had said, waving me away. “There are things I’d much rather do, things that are much more fun.”

“Such as a game?” I had asked. I was innocent. I’d meant it sincerely. “I’d love to play chess or even cards.”

“Yes, let’s play a game,” he had said, snapping his fingers. “How about… a game of Truth or Dare?”

“Truth or Dare? What on Earth is that?”

“It’s a game of courage,” he’d said. “I’ll start: truth or dare? You must pick one.”

“Truth?” I’d said, very unsure of the rules or how one might win without cards or game pieces.

“Now I can ask you any question, and you must answer truthfully no matter what it is.”

I had relaxed just a bit. There was very little he didn’t know about me already. “All right. Ask away.”

“Do you find me handsome?”

I had felt the rise heat to my face. “What?”

“You chose Truth,” he had sung. “You have to answer the question or else pick Dare instead.”

“I—” I couldn’t look at him. “Yes, I do find you handsome. But why is that important?”

“Why isn’t it important?” he’d asked, leaning forward. “I find you very beautiful. See? I’ve told you a truth and you didn’t even have to ask. Consider my turn over. Back to you: Truth or Dare?”

I was still reeling from his admission and mine. I didn’t think of what might happen when I stuttered out, “Dare.”

“Bold choice,” he had said. “Now I will dare you to do something and you must do it or else you lose the game.”

A lick of sense returned to me. “I couldn’t choose Truth instead?”

“No, because you chose Truth on your last turn,” he said boredly, flashing me a smile. I began to get the sense that he was making these rules up as he went.

I supposed I could’ve forfeited, but my pride and the benefit of the doubt compelled me to say, “Fine. What is your dare?”

He had leaned forward, a wicked gleam in his eye, and said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

I had reared back, appalled. “What?”

“You admitted you think I’m handsome. Why wouldn’t you want to kiss me?”

“I also think your prize stallion is handsome, but I don’t want to kiss him,” I had said proudly.

It was probably the wrong thing to say. He’d looked wholly offended as he’d said, “I’m much prettier than a horse!”

“Of course you are, Raj, but it’s not proper for me to kiss you right now.”

He’d risen from his chair and sauntered over to mine with all the confidence of a spoiled palace brat. He braced himself on the arms of the chair, caging me in, and said, “I’ve dismissed all the servants. No one need know.” He’d brought his lips close to my ear and said, “No one need know about any of the things we may do in my chambers.”

I’d bristled and must’ve flushed redder than a rose. I’d considered pushing him out of the way, but my etiquette training prevented me from getting physical if I couldn’t defuse the situation with calm words first. So I had said, in a voice as even as I could make it, “I am a lady, Raj, and you a gentleman. Better yet, we are a princess and a prince. We do not do such things, especially unmarried as we are.”

“But we are practically married, aren’t we?” he’d said. “In the eyes of our parents, at least. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been groomed for me and I for you for our entire lives. A single word—your word—is all that keeps us from the alter now. So what does it matter if we take our pleasure now or when we wed? It’s all the same in the end.”

That’s when he’d leaned in to kiss me, which was the same second I’d stood up in a rush. My head slammed into his nose—rather on accident—and sent him tumbling over the coffee table and crashing to the floor. He had cried out, clutching his now-bleeding nose, looking absolutely gob-smacked. I think he thought I’d done it on purpose, when really, my aim had been simply to force him out of my space.

My first instinct had been to help him up, but it was quickly overshadowed by my ire and embarrassment. It served him right. How could he be so vulgar? “I’m not feeling very well,” I had said loudly. “I think I’ll retire.”

“Charlie, wait,” he’d said, trying to recover quickly. “You can’t just leave me like this. I’m practically your husband, after all!”

I’d turned at the door and said, “Absent of one little word, Your Highness, as you so thoughtfully pointed out. A word that you will not hear uttered from my lips, not now nor many days hence. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Sorry about your nose.”

Sorry about your nose.

Those were the last words I ever said to him directly. I went straight to my rooms and cried, heartbroken that he’d betray our friendship like that (such as it was), that he’d feel so entitled to me when I’d thought he’d held me in higher esteem.

The next morning, he’d tried to apologize in his way—he sent me lavish gifts, exorbitant bouquets, and tempting desserts, but I knew him too well. I saw right through it, rejected them all in spite of what it would do to his pride, and left before the week was out. His father the king did not fight me very hard; I think even he knew his son had royally blown it. My ladies-in-waiting didn’t fight me either; they’d seen how distraught I’d been and understood my grief was well-founded. The only ones who didn’t fully understand were my parents, but they trusted me, so they had given me permission to refuse Tanbarun’s invitation the following summer. Thankfully, none ever came. And I’d hoped that none ever would again.

So much for that dream.

* * *

Suffice it to say, I still had no intention of giving my yes, regardless of how well this visit went. Raj was not husband material. He never had been, and not even my wildest dreams could conjure up a version of him that was.

This visit would be for diplomacy’s sake only; by the end, we would either repair our relationship or destroy it entirely. The future strength of our kingdoms’ alliance would rest solely on Raj’s sincerity—or lack thereof.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, I arrived at the palace in Tanbarun with my small entourage—my trusted handmaiden, Karina, and my loyal coachman, Uraku. I preferred to travel light and besides, Shenazade Castle was practically a second home to me: its golden spires, pink-tiled roofs, and white marble stairs were all unexpectedly welcoming. Long, green-and-blue banners hung from the towers and bore the country’s crest: a horse and a dragon encircling a castle. In spite of the circumstances, I couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sight.

As I stepped out of the carriage, another familiar sight greeted me at the foot of the stairs, but this one did not make me smile quite so easily: Prince Raj, accompanied by his trusted aide, Sakaki.

From far away, the prince looked exactly as I remembered him: rather tall and thin, with dark brown hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and emerald green eyes. But as I walked across the courtyard to him, I could see that he did look a bit older—if I was eighteen now, he was nineteen. And he was smiling—not the smug, entitled smile I was used to seeing, but a warm, welcoming one.

That doesn’t mean anything, I thought. You can hide anything behind a smile.

Once I’d reached him, I swept into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness,” I said, determined to be as formal and dignified as possible. “It is an honor to be welcomed as a guest at Shenazade Castle once more.”

He bowed, but when we rose, his smile had turned lopsided and he appeared nervous. This was closer to the Raj I remembered—full of false bravado. “The honor is mine, Princess. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised when I learned that you had accepted the invitation.” He’d always had a high, nasally voice, but it sounded deeper than I remembered. Perhaps he really had matured, if only physically.

“I could never refuse another opportunity to visit your beautiful country,” I said, hoping he didn’t see the flattery for what it truly was. “Tanbarun is as magnificent as I remember.”

He paused, waxing awkward, and cleared his throat. “Shall we?” He gestured to the marble stairs. “I’m sure you’re tired from your journey. And hungry? I’ve arranged an informal luncheon, but if you’d rather wait until tonight’s banquet and take some time to get settled into your rooms, I’ll have room service sent up to you promptly.”

“Room service would be lovely,” I said as we climbed. I was not ready to have a meal with him yet, and certainly not alone. “I am in my old room, I take it?”

“The furnishings have been updated,” he said quickly, as if afraid I might leave if I found last season’s drapes in my chambers. “But if the room is not to your liking, I can arrange to have you moved to any of our guest suites. There are quite a few, as you know, but I hope it wasn’t presumptuous of me to assume… but then it was, wasn’t it?” He glanced at me sidelong, panicked. I kept my face impassive—cruel as it was, I wanted him to sweat it out a moment longer. “I knew I should’ve had you moved to the Gold Suite. I can have it prepared at once! Sakaki!” He snapped his fingers, a sound I’d always thought unnaturally jarring.

I couldn’t help myself. I stopped outside the palace doors, stifled a laugh, and said, “That won’t be necessary, Your Highness. You were right to presume. The Ocean Suite is, indeed, my favorite. I just hope that the updated furnishings don’t alter the room too much. I rather liked how it was before.”

I could nearly feel the weight drop from his shoulders in relief. He was eager to please me, that was for certain—but whether that was because he was truly sorry or because he simply wanted to look impressive remained to be seen.

“Just a new rug and curtains, and a few odds and ends imported from Clarines,” he said, waving away my concerns as we entered the grand hall. “The rest should be more or less how you remember it.”

“Yes, I hear you have renewed your diplomatic relations with the kingdom of Clarines,” I said. “That’s very admirable.”

“You did?” he said, sounding nervous again. “What else have you heard about that?”

I didn’t want to tell him fresh out of the gate that I’d heard it all: how he’d tried to force a commoner girl with rare, bright red hair to be his concubine; how she’d run away to Clarines and somehow—God only knows how—become favored by their second prince; how Raj had invited her to the palace, much like he’d done with me, to mend the Crown’s relationship with their neighbors to the west; how she’d been kidnapped by pirates while under his watch; how he’d joined forces with the prince of Clarines to rescue her and had succeeded.

In the end, this had forged a strong alliance between the two kingdoms, but it only told me one thing for certain: that Raj would go to great lengths to prevent the wrath of another, more capable royal from coming down upon him.

The rest was hearsay. Of course I wanted to believe that the Raj I’d grown up with could rally a group of port town merchants and lead a ragtag naval fleet through dangerous waters to dispatch a tyrannical pirate ship, but it was just too fantastical. This was a boy who would throw a temper tantrum if his eggs weren’t prepared exactly the right way. Who would cower at the sight of a harmless beetle and demand that it and all other beetles on the palace grounds be destroyed immediately. Who would—

I realized I hadn’t answered him. He was giving me a look of such anxiety I had to wonder if the stories really had been exaggerated, and he was afraid I’d figured as much out because I knew him far too well.

“Enough to be intrigued,” I said, which was honest enough.

He looked slightly less anxious by the prospect as we climbed the stairs to the guest wing. “Well, I’m sure there will be plenty of time to—ehm—catch up, and all that, but here is where I must leave you.” We’d reached a wide landing halfway up the staircase, where a butler stood waiting to escort us the rest of the way. Raj bowed and said, “I will see you at tonight’s banquet, Princess.”

I curtsied and watched as he descended the stairs. Sakaki, stoic and composed as always, bowed and trailed close behind. My entourage and I followed the butler the rest of the way to the mezzanine, but when Raj thought we were out of earshot, I heard him say to his aide, “How did I do? Good? Bad? Be honest, Sakaki. She terrifies me.”

I stifled another laugh. Surprised as I was that he’d asked for a critical review, that much about him hadn’t changed: he was terrified of everything.

Chapter Text

The Ocean Suite was, thankfully, not too drastically changed from what I remembered; everything was still a delightful palette of light blues, whites, tans, and seashell pinks. The bedspread had always been my favorite: pure white with embroidered blue seashells on it. It always made me feel like I was lying on a beach made of clouds. I settled in quickly, ate a light lunch once room service had been delivered, and even took a short nap.

Then Karina woke me up and started getting me ready for the welcome banquet, which would include the entire royal family: King Shenazade, Raj, and his younger twin siblings, Princess Rona and Prince Eugena. Their mother, unfortunately, had passed away when the twins were three. I still remembered the gloom that fell over the palace that summer. Raj had been only eleven. Myself, nine. His behavior became even more incorrigible after that, which we all attributed to his grief. But it soon became clear that his mother’s death had irreparably altered him, made him cagier and more impatient. I suppose I’d allowed him that excuse for longer than I should’ve, but the older we got, the harder it was to justify.

For the banquet, I had to look every inch the princess of Valiona I was, so Karina put my hair up in a crown-like braided bun framed by a silver tiara and I wore a midnight blue gown with a glittering, silver overskirt and a shoulderless neckline. White satin gloves completed the ensemble, and then I was ready for dinner.

At the foot of the stairs, I found Raj waiting to escort me. I hadn’t expected him to do so and was caught off-guard by his presence—as well as how dashing he looked in his dark green suit. He’d always been picky and precocious about fashion, and this was more understated than the outfits he usually wore. But it looked good on him and brought out the green in his eyes.

“You look… stunning, Princess,” he said, visibly flustered.

“You don’t clean up too bad yourself, Your Highness,” I said, also feeling a bit flustered, to my chagrin.

“Shall we?” he said, offering his arm.

I nodded and took it to be polite.

“You know you don’t have to stand on ceremony with me, right?” he said as we made our way to the dining room. “When we’re alone, at least. You may call me ‘Raj’ like you used to.”

“That’s kind of you to say, but I’d like to stand on ceremony,” I said, feeling icier with every word. “Besides, it would be a little awkward if I called you ‘Raj’ when I’d prefer if you continued to call me ‘Princess.’”

We were in front of the doors now. I stole a glance at him and saw that he looked defeated. Well, so be it. If he wanted to be on a first-name basis with me again, he’d have to earn it.
The attendants opened the doors and announced our arrival: “The Crown Prince, Raj Shenazade, and his honored guest, Princess Charlamaine of Valiona.”

The king stood at the head of the table, as handsome and regal as I remembered. Aside from his hair, which was wavier and touched with grey, he and Raj looked a lot alike. Standing also were the prince and princess, of course, and about a dozen nobles and dignitaries of the king’s court, who bowed as we entered. Raj led us to our seats: his was to the right of his father, naturally, and mine was to the right of Raj. Naturally.

We bowed and curtsied to the king and then he sat down, signaling that we could sit as well.

“Welcome back to Tanbarun, Princess,” said the king. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“It was very pleasant indeed,” I said. “The weather was perfect and the carriage ride as smooth as could be. And, of course, the scenery across the border was as favorable as I remember.”

“You flatter us. We’re very grateful you accepted the prince’s invitation. Last summer was quite dull without at least one member of your esteemed family around to brighten the place up. I trust the king and queen of Valiona were well when you left them?”

“Very well,” I said.

“And your elder brother, he’s taking to his royal duties with grace?”

“He’s a natural-born ruler if there ever was one,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. My brother, Lander, had always been everything a crown prince should be: studious, alert, and responsible. “He can talk of nothing else but affairs of state. It’s quite tiresome sometimes, but at least he’s invested.”

“Yes,” said the king with a chuckle. “I think it might interest you to know that Raj has recently become invested in affairs of state as well. You will find that much of his free time these days is spent in the library.”

I looked over at Raj, who had gone stiff and uncomfortable.

“The library,” I said evenly. “That is interesting indeed. I thought you hated the library.”

“Not anymore,” he said with an awkward chuckle. “As I recall, you’ve always been an avid reader, have you not?”

I flushed in surprise. “Yes, I have.”

“Well, then you are welcome to visit the library as often as you please, whether I’m there or not,” said Raj. “But of course, you probably knew that.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. When do you usually commence your studies? Perhaps I’ll join you.” I had to see this for myself. It would be easy to tell if he was visiting the library just for show or if he was actually there to read.

“Usually in the morning, shortly after breakfast,” he said. “If I don’t have anything on the agenda, that is. And then again shortly before bed, but then that’s usually in my chambers.” He realized what he’d said, quickly turned red, and broke eye contact. “But obviously that’s a very private study time and I wouldn’t dare be so improper as to suggest that you—”

I could bear the secondhand embarrassment no longer. “Prince Raj,” I said gently. “I know what you meant.”

He stopped, exhaled, and was fortunately saved by the entrance of the first course. We all became distracted by the meal, and the rest of the banquet consisted mainly of polite small talk between me, Raj, the king, and the young prince and princess, who sat across from us.

Princess Rona had always been forward when it came to me and her brother; I remembered her following us around the palace grounds at five or six asking us when we’d get married. At eleven, she was no less precocious. Now that she was older, she understood even more about the world, and I could tell that she wielded that knowledge to its fullest extent.

So far, she’d been behaving in a rather dignified way—aided, hopefully, by the influence of her quieter, more prudent twin. That is, until the topic of how long I’d be staying came up.
I answered that it would be at least four weeks with a potential extension to the end of the summer, and that was when she turned to Raj and said, “I guess this means you’ve moved on from Shirayuki now, doesn’t it, Lord Brother?”

I watched Raj turn as red as the tomatoes decorating the platters.

“Who is Shirayuki?” I asked.

Rona gasped. “You haven’t told her about Shirayuki yet?”

“Now is not the time or place,” said Raj in a nervous sing-song voice. “She’s just arrived and it’s not proper dinner conversation—”

“She’s the Friend of the Crown!” Rona said brightly, turning her bright eyes to me. “She’s just a common girl, a court herbalist at the palace in Clarines, but she’s from Tanbarun and—”

“Is this the red-haired girl?” I asked before I could think it through. “The one who was a guest here last year?”

Raj looked as if he wanted to throw himself out a window. Part of me wanted to steer the conversation away from a topic that made him so uncomfortable, but for that same reason, I wanted to press the matter further.

“Yes, that one!” said Rona. “Raj is in love with her but she’s in love with the second prince of Clarines—”

Raj brought a fist down on the table, startling us all. “I am not, nor was I at any point in time, in love with Shirayuki.”

“Then why did you try to marry her?” Rona challenged.

“I didn’t—” He stopped, no doubt because he didn’t want to explain the difference between a wife and a concubine to his eleven-year-old sister. “It was a fleeting fancy. A trifle.” He waved her away. “It was her hair. I thought her hair was pretty. That’s it. You can think someone is pretty and not be in love with them.”

“But you guys got along so well when she visited the palace,” Rona whined. “I really thought there was something there.”

“Rona, you’re insulting our guest,” said Raj firmly.

“Why would I be insulted?” I asked. “You can fancy whoever you want. It makes no difference to me.” I meant to sound nonchalant, but it came out more condescending. And it tasted a little like a lie.

“I don’t—” Raj paused, took a deep breath, and said, “Shirayuki is a dear friend. I did her a grievous wrong on a thoughtless whim and paid the price for it. She didn’t have to forgive me, but she chose to, because she’s a person of exceptional character. She was the first person to ever take me seriously and certainly the first to see any kind of potential in me. I have her to thank for where I am today. But she was never mine to have, and it is foolish for anyone to think otherwise.”

He shot a meaningful glance at Rona, who took the hint to retreat. “Of course, Lord Brother.”

That was the end of that. I felt it would be unwise to ask any more questions about the girl Raj had once wanted for his own, and besides, I was too preoccupied processing his shockingly self-aware speech to say much else. More than anything, I wanted to know what she had said or done to incite such a revelation in Raj. After all, he wasn’t known for listening to anyone, let alone someone below his station. What made this girl so special? The red hair? The connection to the Clarines prince?

And why was I suddenly jealous of her, even though Raj claimed he had no romantic feelings toward her? No, romance didn’t have anything to do with it—I was jealous that she’d somehow gotten through to him in a matter of months when I felt I had spent years trying to do the same. Had I not taken him seriously? Had I not seen potential in him? Why had I, a girl he’d practically been raised with, been ignored while this commoner girl had been heeded?

I tried not to be disparaging of the common folk—they were the lifeblood of the kingdom, after all—but it still felt like a slight. I went to bed that night with my pride thoroughly and irrevocably wounded, and I woke up determined to get to the bottom of it.

First, I had to be certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Raj was genuine. Second, I had to determine what that girl had said to cause such a sudden interest in self-improvement. Third, I had to figure out what my place was in all of this—was he trying to nurse a guilty conscience, or did he actually want to be friends again? If the former, then could I recognize that it was start? If the latter, could I compete with a girl as allegedly saint-like as Shirayuki?

How many girl friends did one prince need?

Chapter Text

The next morning, I broke my fast in my chambers and then went for a stroll around the gardens, but I did both languidly—I wanted to catch Raj in the act, whether that act was reading or not. It was mid-morning when I finally entered the grand, sky-high library, and at first, I didn’t see Raj at all, which led me to assume that he wasn’t there.

But when I asked one of the servants, she said he was on the top floor in the reading nook, so I made my way there and was honestly surprised to see that she had been right. He sat in a chair with a book in his hand. A short stack of other volumes sat on the side table next to him. He didn’t notice I was there at first and when he finally did, he looked startled.

If he was faking it, it was an elaborate deception.

“Princess!” he said, standing. “You came!”

“And miss an opportunity to see a sight as rare and wonderful as Raj Shenazade reading? I think not.” I smirked before realizing I’d fallen into my old way of speaking to him: informally, with copious amounts of sarcasm. How easy it is to lapse into the familiar.

He grimaced. “Not so glamorous, is it? I daresay you’ll be bored within the hour.”

“What are you studying today?” I asked. Another test: if he couldn’t summarize the book he’d been reading, I’d know it was a ruse.

“I decided to brush up on the history of Valiona,” he said. “Seeing as though you are our neighbors to the north and, admittedly, I thought perhaps you’d be impressed if I could spout out facts about your country on a whim.”

“You’re ratting yourself out,” I said, crossing the room to pick up the book he’d been reading. It was, indeed, a volume on the history of Valiona. “That’s very unlike you.”

“I think not,” he said. “I’ve always been a rotten liar.”

“That you have,” I said. “So I’ll know if you’re lying if I quiz you on what you’ve read so far.”

He only looked slightly nervous as he said, “Do your worst. I stopped on page seventy-two.”

I opened it and found a passage. “I’ll start with an easy one: Who was the first king of Valiona?”

“Easy indeed. That would be Valioris, who named the country after himself. His dynasty lasted five-hundred years and there are still living descendants of his in the country today, though none in the royal line.”

“Going above and beyond,” I said. “You really are studying. All right, a harder one: In what year did the Battle of Celanese end?”

“Oh, I just read this one. Hold on. Wait.” He thought very hard about it, which was charming, to say the least. I hadn’t seen him think very hard about anything in quite some time. “Four-hundred… forty… seven.”

“Very good,” I said, impressed. “Now, here’s one relevant to you and I: In what year did Valiona and Tanbarun draft the Treaty of Whitestead, marking them as official allied kingdoms?”

“Seven-hundred eighty-four,” he said proudly.

“My God,” I said, handing him back the book. “Who are you and what have you done with the prince? Raj, if you’re in there, blink twice if you need help.”

“That’s very amusing,” he said, snatching the book back. “I can like reading if I want. Perhaps I always did but just hated being forced to. Aren’t things more fun when you choose them for yourself?”

“I suppose so,” I said. “It’s a bit fanciful, though, when you’re in a position like ours. Not everything we do is fun, and we certainly don’t get to choose everything we do. So I hope you’re being sincere when you say you like to read now, because you’ll be doing quite a fair bit of it for the rest of your life.”

His expression took on a haunted pallor, as if he hadn’t considered the fact that the work might never end. That this was only the beginning, and he was catching up at that. He shook his head and said, “Well, if I don’t find some enjoyment in it somehow, then it’s just going to be miserable all the time, isn’t it? I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

I was taken aback by that. Perhaps I was being a bit hard on him. This was a big deal for him, after all. “You’re right, of course. I’m very glad you enjoy reading. It gives us something in common.”

He relaxed a little and said, “You’ve been here before, but of course, if you need help finding something, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ve become quite familiar with the stacks over the last six months.”

“Shall I start calling you Prince Librarian now?” I asked teasingly.

“You don’t have to mock me, you know,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his nose up.

“Lord of the Shelves,” I continued as I moved down to where I knew the historical fiction was. “Your Royal Book-ness. Sir Reads-A-Lot.”

“I’ll send you back to Valiona,” he called after me. “Don’t think I won’t!”

I picked out an interesting-looking title and returned to the sitting area. “That would be very rude. Not to mention scandalous. What would people say if I returned home even quicker than last time?”

I hadn’t meant to say it. I certainly should not have said it. And as soon as I did, I detected a change in his demeanor. He seemed to fold in on himself, to sink into the armchair as if it would swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, you’re quite right,” he said, standing up suddenly and straightening his brown waistcoat. “Now is as good a time as ever to address it. What I did the summer before last was inexcusable and ungentlemanly. I should never have assumed such liberties, not just because you’re a princess—though that alone should’ve been enough—but also because you were kind to me. And I repaid that kindness with a knife in your back.” He looked me in the eye the entire time and did not falter, not once. I was spellbound. “As you have no doubt heard, I got worse before I got better. But rest assured, I did get better. I am deeply, deeply ashamed of how I treated you then and while I don’t expect you to forgive me, I hope that you can at least accept my apology. I wish to repair our relationship as much as possible. As much as you’ll let me. I…” Now he looked down. “I would like us to be friends.”

I was speechless. Part of me didn’t want to accept what I’d seen and heard. How could it be? It had to be an act, right? An elaborate ploy to get back into my good graces and then, perhaps, get into my bed? That’s all he cared about, wasn’t it: getting what he wanted?

But it’s hard to fake sincerity like that, and it was very true that he was a rotten liar; at least he couldn’t claim that among his vices. He was too opinionated and wore his heart too much on his sleeve to be able to lie. Besides, he’d never had to lie—he could say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, have whatever he wanted. There was a dark side to honesty, so I’d learned.

But this didn’t have any touch of darkness in it, not from where I stood. He looked and sounded genuinely sorry. Like he’d truly seen the error of his ways. It was as exhilarating as it was infuriating. Once again, what magic word had that Shirayuki girl said to turn him into a compassionate human being?

“I…” What else could I say? “I do accept your apology. And I would very much like to be friends, too.”

He brightened, looking more joyous than I’d ever seen him before. “Really? You mean it?”

“But,” I said firmly and watched his radiance fade. “You will still have to earn my trust again. Talk is cheap, so they say. Even words that sound as sweet as the ones you said.”

He nodded like a penitent child. In a way, that was exactly what he was. “Absolutely. I completely understand. And rest assured, Princess, it is not a task I shall take lightly. I shall have to prove my mettle through action. That is the mark of a true leader, is it not?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, taking a seat in the chair next to his. “I suppose it is.”

The next hour was spent in relative silence, the two of us equally absorbed in our books. Every now and then, I’d steal a glance at him to make sure that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me—no, he was fully invested in his studies, and only once did he catch me looking at him. We both turned away in embarrassment and I tried to look at him less after that. It was so strange, though, to sit in such a comfortable silence with him, absorbed in our own worlds and yet united by a mutual activity.

Had I ever sat in his presence unencumbered before? I couldn’t remember. If we weren’t at some high society event, then we were thrust into some royalty-appropriate activity, or I was party to his whims—whims which were often loud and boisterous. No, I couldn’t say I’d ever had a quiet moment with him that wasn’t draped in awkwardness or impatience.

It didn’t surprise me when he was the first to break our silence, though. He stood up, stretched, and announced, “Well, I think I’ve come to a comfortable stopping point. I’m feeling restless. You’re welcome to stay and continue to read alone, or if you’d like, I was going to walk the palace grounds. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

I was tempted to stay and read, but now that we’d been silent for so long, I was admittedly curious to talk to him in earnest. The banquet had been… frazzled, to say the least.

“I think I will,” I said, rising and following him to the mezzanine, where Sakaki and Katrina had been standing guard as chaperones. A prince and princess were not supposed to be left unattended, after all. “I could use the exercise.”

I let him lead me down the stairs, out of the library, and down the hall to the castle walk that wrapped around the inner courtyard square. We used to chase each other around it as children, to the detriment of our caretakers. Now we could only promenade.

“So, ehm,” Raj began, “read anything interesting?”

“It was just a novel about a knight who has to cross the continent to return home,” I said. “Fanciful fluff. Nothing very educational.”

“I, for one, would like to know how a knight goes about crossing a continent,” said Raj. “It could come in handy if I ever have to travel.”

“Have you done much traveling lately?” I asked.

“I did visit Clarines last year by invitation of the Crown Prince, but…” He trailed off, uncomfortable. “There were ulterior motives involved.”

“Whose? Yours? Or his?”

“Mainly his,” he said aimlessly. “Anyways, never mind that! I also got to travel by sea across the Cerulean Bay a few months later. That was… ehm… you know, actually, that wasn’t too great, either. I was seasick most of the time, and…”

“Is it true, what I’ve heard?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer. “Did you really lead a naval flagship to a pirate’s secret cove and run them aground?”

“It sounds so ridiculous when you put it that way,” he said, covering his face. “Like one of your grand adventure novels. How could you believe someone like me could do something like that, right? Truth be told, I could hardly believe it either. I sometimes still can’t.”

“So it is true,” I said, flabbergasted.

“It wasn’t just me,” he said, as if any assumption otherwise was an insult to his pride. “I had help. Prince Zen of Clarines and his entourage were there, and of course Sakaki, and the Lions of the Mountain… and one very smart bird. And of course the Port Town merchants! The fact that they actually lent me their ships was… well, I’d never experienced anything quite like that, really.” He chuckled uneasily. “I thought I was going to faint when I got up on the stand to rally them. I almost did, in truth.”

“You rallied them,” I said in disbelief. “By yourself?”

“Again, I had—”

“You spoke to a crowd of people—to your people—with your own voice, with words powerful enough to inspire them to action?”

He huffed. “Listen, I know it must sound utterly inconceivable—”

“It does indeed,” I said. “I wish I could’ve seen it for myself.”

“Well, I for one am glad you weren’t there,” he said, nose turned up. “It was rather dangerous. There were pirates everywhere. It was a real melee.”

I gaped. “Did you fight pirates, too?”

“Of course not!” he said, as if disgusted by the thought. “I spent most of the actual battle cowering behind Sakaki. I might’ve thrown a stone or two, but that was it.”

I shook my head. “And here I might’ve believed you if you told me you’d actually taken up the sword. See, you really are a rotten liar.”

“How stupid do you think I am? The truth is insane enough!”

I laughed. “I’m messing with you, Raj. I’m glad you’re honest. Very glad.”

He exhaled and reset his posture. “I’ll have you know that I am taking swordsmanship lessons now. I’m years behind and then some, but I figured I should at least know the basics. Oh, and twice a week, I go down to the wharf and take seafaring lessons from our top naval captain. I really didn’t know what I was doing when I led that fleet to the pirates’ hideout, but according to the crew, I displayed ‘a sailor’s instinct.’ So I thought, why not? Might as well get some formal training.”

Would wonders never cease? “I can hardly picture you as a full-fledged naval captain, but I’d sure like to try.”

“I still get seasick,” he said with a chuckle. “Shirayuki tells me that ginger helps ease the nausea, so I try to have ginger candy on me whenever I’m on the ship. But then, you can’t exactly eat candy and stow the sails, and the sailors have little regard for propriety, so they’ve already nicknamed me Ginger, which is infuriating…”

“Have you tried a tea?” I asked, admittedly determined to one-up this ineffable herbalist. “Or a tonic?”

He stopped, open-mouthed, and said, “No, actually. I’m not sure what it would do for my image if I took a tea break but… I wonder, do you think they’d respect me more or less if I were to drink from a flask? Never mind what may or may not be in it; they can use their imagination.”

I chuckled. “You would certainly be embracing the sailor’s life then.”

“I just might have to try it,” he said, snapping his fingers. “But enough about me. What interests you these days besides reading? Do you still sketch?”

I was shocked he remembered. “I do, when I can. Mother has me run so ragged these days with social events I hardly get a moment to myself.”

“You must take some time to practice your art while you’re here,” he said, snapping his fingers again. “I’ll send for new supplies. Only the finest.”

I giggled. “Thank you, but I brought everything I need with me. I had every intention of taking advantage of the time away to draw. Actually,” I looked down, suddenly nervous to ask, “the next time you go to the wharf, do you think perhaps I could come with you? I would love to sketch the ships in the harbor. And, admittedly, see you in action.”

He flushed red, enough for me to notice. “Well, I don’t see why not. I’ll be there tomorrow, actually, so you’re welcome to come with me then. But don’t expect an impressive display of naval prowess from me. Hunting down pirates is a far cry from climbing shrouds and swabbing the decks.”

“All the more reason why I must see it,” I said, and bumped him with my elbow before I could think twice about it. Once again, my familiarity got the best of me.

“Looks like I’ll be needing that flask sooner than I thought,” he said with a wry smile thrown back at Sakaki. “Though whether its contents will indeed be ginger tonic and nothing else remains to be seen.”

Chapter Text

The next day, the weather was perfect for seafaring: crystal blue sky, large, friendly clouds, and a light ocean breeze. We took Raj’s carriage down to the wharf—for training, he wore a simple, dark blue waistcoat and yellow cravat, nondescript but naval. I wore a white and pastel blue sundress with an oversized straw hat—a popular Valioran fashion, especially for outdoor activities. In my lap was a leather bag of art supplies: my sketchbook, a case of pencils and charcoal sticks, and even a few colored chalks in case I felt especially adventurous.

Based on how gorgeous a day it was, I already had a feeling I would.

Anchored to the royal pier was the HMS Dragonfire, an impressive green-and-gold painted man-of-war ship, the pride of the royal navy. This was Raj’s training vessel. Karina and I saw him to the edge of the pier, where he bowed and ascended the gangplank with Sakaki to meet Captain Amir, a decorated navy veteran. Raj waved to us as they set sail, and that was it—I had at least two hours to sit on the private dock and draw.

Uraku had accompanied the coach and delivered a comfortable chair for me to sit on, even though I kept telling him and Karina that I would be fine on a crate. A princess simply does not sit upon a crate.

“Would Your Highness like some refreshments?” Uraku asked. “There’s a fine lemonade stand in the Port Town market.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “Get some for yourself, too. And Karina!”

“Thank you, my lady,” said my attendant. “What will you draw first?”

“I’m hoping to get a good sketch of the Dragonfire before it’s too far out of the bay,” I said, flipping my sketchbook open and getting to work. I passed Karina some paper as well; she also liked to draw, though painting was more her medium.

I passed a fair amount of time sketching ships, but before I knew it, I’d fallen back onto my favorite subject: portraits. And in spite of myself, I found that I couldn’t help but attempt to sketch Raj from memory. I thought it might be a nice surprise. I thought of how he looked waving from the main deck, hair whipped into a frenzy by the sea air, a relaxed smile on his face. I’d never seen him so excited about anything, except maybe music—he did play violin once, though I wasn’t sure if he still did. Perhaps he’d found his true calling.

It seemed like no time at all before the Dragonfire returned to the harbor and docked at the pier. Raj was the one who threw the line to the sailor on the dock—knowing how unathletic he was, I was impressed by the ease with which he hauled it. He’d shucked off his military-style waistcoat at some point, leaving just his white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. I didn’t think it was improper in a scenario such as this, and yet I still felt my face flush. I was so used to seeing him dressed to the nines, often in ridiculous, gaudy get-ups, that seeing him dressed down and at work was nothing short of irregular.

And of course, he didn’t put his waistcoat back on as he and Sakaki made their way down the gangplank to the pier, just kept it tucked over his arm. Then again, he did look a little green, so he was probably preoccupied with keeping his composure.

“Seasickness get the best of you again?” I asked.

“Only a little bit of nausea. Better this time around,” he said, winded. “The tonic did help, though. Unfortunately, my new nickname amongst the crew is Grog. Blasted sailors, am I right?”

“Blasted sailors indeed,” I said.

“His Highness did very well,” said Sakaki to me as if I were some sort of examiner. “He’s mastering sailor’s knots and he even worked the rudder for a short time.”

“How was that?” I asked.

“Thrilling,” he said with a weak smile. “Terrifying, but thrilling.”

“Would you like some lemonade?” I asked on a whim. “Uraku brought me some from the market earlier. It’s very refreshing.”

“I would love some,” he said. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take you through the market myself. I try to pass through at least once a week, and I would love to show you around.”

“I’d be delighted,” I said, and with that, we made our way down the pier and into Port Town. Raj threw on his waistcoat as covertly as possible, but after fumbling with the buttons for a moment, he left it undone, no doubt because he wasn’t used to dressing himself and wasn’t about to have Sakaki do it out in public.

“Here,” I said, stepping out of the pathway and pulling him with me until we were behind a market stall. “Let me.”

“Let you… what?” he asked.

Before I could stop to think about all the rules of etiquette I was probably breaking, I started to button his waistcoat for him from the bottom up, working as nimbly as possible so we didn’t arouse too much suspicion. Our attendants could see us plainly, but it was the townsfolk I was most concerned about. I reached the top and smoothed his lapel, then accidentally made eye contact with him.

He was blushing. Of course he was. So was I, no doubt about it.

“There,” I said, my voice coming out high and reedy. “Good as new.”

“Er, thank you, P-Princess,” he said. “I suppose I do look rather rumpled after being aboard the ship.”

“You look fine,” I said, striding back into the walkway before I could do anything else foolish. “The sea air does you well, when it’s not making you ill.”

He was silent as we continued into the market, but I wondered if I’d crossed some kind of line and made him uncomfortable. Why did I have to do that, anyway? Would it really be such a terrible thing for him to look like everyone else? But it wasn’t that I was embarrassed of how he looked, no, on the contrary—rather, I didn’t want him to be embarrassed.

It looks like I’d caused him to be anyway, and likely worse.

We were in the heart of the market now, stalls of vendors lining either side with fresh, colorful wares. They all gave us respectful nods or bows as we passed but no one seemed surprised or appalled to see the prince here; he was, indeed, a regular.

“Hold on just a moment, I need to stop here,” said Raj, turning right to a fisherman’s stall. A large, swarthy man with a grey beard stood and bowed to us. “Vengis! Hello!”

“Prince Raj, good day to you!” said Vengis. “And how is Your Highness today? How is the Dragonfire?”

“As shipshape as ever,” said Raj. I could hardly believe my ears. Raj, conversing with a fishmonger as if they were old friends? “Vengis, I’d like you to meet Princess Charlamaine, the first princess of Valiona. She is my honored guest for the summer.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” said Vengis, bowing to me again. “And how do you find Tanbarun?”

“Delightful,” I said. “It’s not my first visit nor do I expect it’ll be my last.”

Raj shot me a look of surprise. I avoided eye contact while he stuttered out, “V-Vengis is the finest fishmonger in Port Town. We buy wholesale directly for the palace when our menu aligns. You like fish, don’t you, Princess?”

“Prepared by Tanbarunian chefs, always,” I said. “My people are not so skilled at cooking fish, far away as we are from the ocean.”

“What’s good today?” Raj asked the merchant.

“The blue bay fish is fresh,” Vengis replied. “Same with the striped haddock. The oysters are good today, too.”

“I’ll take some of each,” said Raj, pulling out his purse and counting out the coins. “For tonight’s dinner.”

“Thank you, as always, for your patronage, Your Highness,” said Vengis, accepting the payment. “I’ll have my runner deliver it to the palace promptly.”

We continued on, but I was still flabbergasted by the exchange. “You have direct relationships with the merchants,” I said.

“Not as many as I would like,” he replied with a nervous laugh. “Vengis has long been a loyal supplier to the crown; it was easy to befriend him. I’m still nervous to talk to my subjects one-on-one. I don’t think that all of them are convinced that I’m not still frivolous and foolhardy.”

“Anyone who were to talk to you would see that you aren’t,” I said. “Just be yourself.”

“Be myself,” he said with a chuckle. “Easy for you to say. You’re naturally graceful and poised. A true royal. People don’t even have to meet you and they already like you.”

“That’s not true,” I said lightly. “Some people find me stuck-up and precocious.”

“Those people can jump into the harbor,” he said on impulse.

“Raj!” I laughed and hit him on the arm. Again. Reel it in, I told myself. You’re not children anymore.

We found the lemonade stand, to which Raj had apparently never paid a visit. The merchant, an older woman with long, blonde, braided hair, was beside herself. “Your Highness!” she exclaimed. “Here! At my stall! I’m terribly sorry, I wasn’t prepared—I don’t have the right drinkware—”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Raj grandly, holding up a palm. “I will take it just the same as any of your other customers.”

The merchant looked very hesitant to acquiesce, but after some coaxing by Sakaki, she served the prince lemonade in a plain, metal tin. He sipped, he considered, and then he passed judgment: “It is delicious! Most refreshing indeed.”

The woman looked ready to faint. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“What is your name?”

“Lilia, Your Highness.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lilia. Don’t be surprised if you see me here again in the near future. I’m here in the wharf twice a week for naval training.”

“I would be honored, Your Highness. And so I’ve heard! It’s all the children talk about. They’re always trying to catch a glimpse of you and your ship.”

“Are they?” He chuckled nervously. “That’s cute.”

Glancing back at the market thoroughfare, I did notice a few small pairs of eyes trained in our direction.

I leaned in close to Raj and said, “We’re being watched.”

“Of course we’re being watched,” he said testily. “If it’s not my pesky younger siblings spying on me then it’s the wharf rats—” He stopped, remembering himself. “Er, I mean—wharf children—”

Lilia had a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “You sound just like my son, the eldest of five,” she managed. “Don’t worry, Your Highness, there isn’t a firstborn alive who doesn’t feel your frustration.”

He sighed and said shakily, “Yes, I suppose not. Well, thank you once again for the refreshment.” He finished the lemonade and handed back the cup, continuing on with his head down. “Stupid, stupid. I always say such stupid things.”

“Lilia didn’t think it was stupid,” I said. “She thought it was funny.”

“That’s just it! No matter what I do, I become a laughingstock.”

“Come on now, Raj. There’s a difference between people laughing at you and people laughing with you.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” he pouted.

“Perhaps you should’ve been,” I said. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you laugh.”

He glanced sidelong at me. “May I ask you something?”

“You may. Though I reserve the right not to answer.”

“Have we dispensed with formalities?”

“Hm?” I stopped and faced him.

He looked down at his shoes. “You started calling me ‘Raj’ again.”

“Oh.” Damned familiarity. I kept slipping back into old habits without even realizing it. “I’m sorry. I can stop, if you’d like.”

“No, I wish you wouldn’t,” he said, looking up at me with wide eyes. “I just… wondered if it meant I could call you ‘Charlamaine’ again, too.”

“No, Raj, I’m afraid you can’t,” I said with as straight a face as I could.

I watched him fight his indignation. “Well, all right, I suppose, but it is a double standard after all—”

“But you may call me Charlie again.”

He looked at me in shock. “I thought you hated that nickname.”

“Only because you turned it into a taunt. ‘Gnarly Charlie,’ and all that.”

“I was vicious to you when we were children, of that I’m painfully aware,” he said sheepishly.

“And yet you’re the only person who’s ever been allowed to call me by a nickname. I trust you not to abuse the privilege now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Charlie.”

In spite of the warm weather, a chill went up my spine.

“Well,” said Raj, clapping his hands together. “Shall we return to the carriage? I don’t know about you, but I’m—”

He was stopped short as something moving at wicked speed collided with his face, red exploding everywhere. I screamed in surprise. He faltered backward in shock as the projectile fell to the ground, leaving a red streak down his face and ruining his neat uniform.

A tomato. Someone had thrown a tomato at the Crown Prince.

Chapter Text

There was a great commotion around us the merchants took notice of what had just occurred. Sakaki sprinted off in the direction the tomato had come from, even though I saw no man fleeing the scene. Raj looked dumbstruck, like he couldn’t believe what had happened. I couldn’t quite believe it either. To humiliate the Crown Prince so openly was surely asking for a death sentence.

If the culprit was caught.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He looked at me for a brief second before his eyes darted around at all the townsfolk gathering around him, offering towels, kerchiefs, and shirts. Asking if he needed a doctor. At least they didn’t appear to be on the scoundrel’s side—but it did beg the question, why do such a thing in front of a crowd who mostly seemed supportive of the prince?

“Your Highness, I own a laundromat. Allow me to help,” said a man, taking a step inside the circle.

“Back away, all of you!” Raj snapped. “Get away from me! Don’t you have better things to do? I don’t need your help!”

He turned and ran. The crowd parted instantly to let him through and he disappeared between two market stalls.

“Uh-oh,” I said to Karina. “That’s not good.”

I wanted to sprint after him, but princesses don’t run, so I walked as quickly as decorum would allow through the parted crowd and between the stalls, Karina close at my heels. The market bucked up against the town proper, a labyrinth of tall, narrow buildings with clay roofs and whitewashed stone. He was nowhere in sight, and I hadn’t the slightest idea where I was going. Odds are he didn’t either and was about to end up lost in his own domain.

“Raj!” I called out. “Raj!”

“We should find Sakaki,” Karina said worriedly. “He’ll know better than anyone where his young charge might’ve gone.”

We veered off in the direction Sakaki had gone, but fortunately, we didn’t have to look for long; he found us first, breathing hard and with an intense expression on his face. Evidently, the scoundrel had gotten away.

“Lost the bastard,” Sakaki said ruefully. Then he noticed who was missing. “Where’s the prince?”

“He took off running that way,” I said, pointing behind us.

Sakaki strode past us with the determination of a bloodhound and headed deeper into town, moving so quickly we practically had to skip to keep up with him. The buildings opened up into a bustling square that looked mostly engaged in trade. Without faltering, Sakaki moved through the crowd to the opposite side and zeroed in on a nondescript alleyway between two storefronts. Behind a stack of crates, Raj sat against the wall with his head between his knees.

“Wow,” said Karina as we approached. “It’s like he has a sixth sense.”

Raj lifted his head to look at us, squinting as if the sun were in his eyes even though the alleyway was shaded. “Sakaki? Is that really you, old friend?”

“No need to be melodramatic, Your Highness,” said his aide. “You were lost for a whole two minutes.”

“Two minutes, two hours, what does it matter?” He dropped his head back between his knees.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that,” Sakaki scolded. “But then you probably realized as much.”

“I’m such a fool,” said Raj. “I couldn’t take their staring, their pity… I panicked. I reacted just as I always do. Like a coward.” He dropped his head again.

I dared to approach and crouched down to his level. “Raj,” I said gently, putting a hand on his knee. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Surely they’ll understand that you were wronged. They saw it with their own eyes.”

“And we will find the culprit and bring him to justice,” said Sakaki darkly. “This will not be allowed to happen again. I’ll take the matter before the king—”

“No!” Raj uncoiled and pulled himself to standing. Thanks to the tomato juice, he looked like he was covered in blood. “No, whatever you do, do not tell my father what happened today. I beg of you. Investigate if you must, but keep it covert. I can’t—I don’t—Please, Sakaki.” He looked on the verge of tears, but not the manipulative tears of a spoilt child. Rather, the ashamed, humiliated tears of a boy trying desperately to be a man.

Sakaki nodded. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll use the utmost discretion.”

He crumbled against the wall in relief. Then his eyes went to me. “Charlie. Are you all right? Did anything hit you?”

I shook my head with a smile. “I was just in the splash zone.”

“I see that,” he said, and reaching forward, he wiped tomato guts from my cheek with his sleeve. I froze, surprised by the gesture. He turned his nose up and said, “Red does not suit you, my lady. Blue is much more your color.”

I smiled. I knew he was deflecting with pretension, but it meant he was okay. “I couldn’t agree more, Your Highness.”

Sakaki offered Raj his cloak, which he took gratefully to cover the mess. Then, we navigated back to the carriage at the wharf and headed home. If anyone saw us, they kept a respectful distance.

Raj didn’t lower the hood of the cloak until we were safely inside and on the road. Then he slumped against the wall of the carriage and sighed.

“Raj,” I said after a moment. “Why would someone throw a tomato at you? It seems like you have a good rapport with the people of Port Town.”

He put a hand to his face and talked through the cage of his fingers. “As I mentioned, not everyone is convinced my actions of late are genuine. They think I’m condescending in order to curry favor with the common folk, but that behind the scenes, I’m as careless and hedonistic as ever. There are also those who didn’t take kindly to my pirate-hunting crusade. They think my motivations were less than noble, that I was only chasing after a girl, a common girl, one who had fled the country just to get away from me. That I was competing with the prince of Clarines for her.”

“That’s very petty,” I said. “And untrue. Right?”

“The love triangle bit? Very untrue. Being motivated by Shirayuki’s kidnapping first and foremost? Decidedly more true.” He gave a crooked smile. “But it was also my honor on the line, you see. They stole her out from under me, on my own turf. They’d made it personal.”

“You and your allies did the country a great service,” I said. “Who would disagree with that?”

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he said. “Taking out the Claw of Sea caused quite a ripple in the underground crime community. They were a kingpin and a lot of criminals relied on them for black market trade and guns-for-hire. Now there’s not only a power vacuum, but a whole group of undesirables who are very, very angry with me.” He grimaced. “I’ve essentially stepped on an ant’s nest.”

“Ah,” I said. “So the person who threw the tomato was most likely one of them.”

He nodded. “They know they can’t attack my physically, so they’ll attack my pride instead.”

“You have to do something about it,” I said firmly. “You have to put them in their place.”

“What can I do, Charlie?” He shrugged. “I’m no warrior. I’m certainly no detective. Sakaki will investigate today’s culprit and, hopefully, he will be apprehended. One less scoundrel on the streets.”

I huffed, knowing he was right. No royal could take on crime as a whole, and Raj was still learning his own strength. If he felt out of his depth on this, then he was.

“Besides,” he said, looking absently out the window, “to retaliate is only to give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d gotten inside my head. Better to ignore them as much as possible. Their stamina will eventually run out.”

I held my tongue because surely he realized that they’d already gotten inside his head. This time around, at least. Next time, I had faith that he’d react much differently.

Back at the palace, we went in through the more discreet side entrance but were halted by one of the servants once we’d reached the lobby.

“Your Highness, Lord Sisk has just arrived from Clarines and requests an audience with you,” the servant said.

Raj suddenly looked incomprehensibly tired. “Tell him I’ll receive him in my drawing room in an hour. I’m in need of respite.”

“He says it can’t wait. It concerns the Friend of the Crown.”

Raj’s mouth pulled into a thin line but he increased his stride nonetheless. “He’d better mean it. That slippery social climber has psyched me out before.”

“Who’s Lord Sisk?” I asked, matching pace with him. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of him.”

Raj sighed. “You probably wouldn’t have. His title has been recently restored. His father, Viscount Sisk, was involved in illegal activities and ruined his family as a result. But in exchange for valuable intel about the Claw of the Sea, Lord Sisk received his family’s former estate. Now he serves as my messenger to Clarines and an occasional pain in my royal behind.”

I giggled. “He sounds like a real treat.”

The man in question was waiting in the grand hall. Taller than Raj, slender, and with long, brown hair pulled back, he couldn’t have been much older than we were. He had a foxlike look about him but he bowed respectfully when we approached and said, “Your Highness, I’ve come bearing—Whoa, what the hell happened to you?”

“That’s none of your concern, Lord Sisk,” Raj said. “Say what you’re here to say.”

“That’s not blood, is it?” Apparently he wasn’t going to let it drop.

“Do you think I’d be here right now if it were blood, Mihaya? Use your brain!”

“Tomato juice?”

I acted quickly. “His Highness was standing underneath a kitchen balcony and a jar of tomato sauce fell onto him. He wasn’t harmed and nobody saw except the cook.”

Raj looked at me gratefully, or at least I hoped it was gratitude.

“Oh, wow,” said Mihaya. “Did you do anything about the clumsy fool who put it there?”

“Told them to be more careful next time,” Raj said as flippantly as possible. “Now, what is your message? As you can see, you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

Mihaya looked like he didn’t quite buy our fabricated tale, but prudently, he let the matter drop. He pulled his shoulders back and smiled as he said, “I’ve just come from Clarines with urgent news. Prince Zen and Shirayuki are engaged.”

Chapter Text

Elated as Raj was to hear the news of his friend’s engagement, Sakaki convinced him to go upstairs and clean up first before receiving any more details from Lord Sisk. Within the hour, the three of us met in Raj’s drawing room—a place I never thought I would be again, but at least our attendants were here with us along with the young, snarky lord.

“All right, tell me everything,” Raj said to Mihaya. “Everything you know.”

“I know a lot,” said Mihaya proudly. “I was there. I got to bear witness to it.”

“Yes, good for you. Now, what happened?”

“So, technically, they were already engaged—privately—but Zen was required to make it public, so he asked her at their Spring Gala in front of hundreds of people. Apparently, some of the lords didn’t want him making the announcement at such a large event where so many people would see it, but Zen being, well, Zen, did it anyway to prove a point.”

“There’s no chance of them denying it now,” Raj muttered. “Not with so many witnesses present. Clever Zen.”

“Bold move,” I chimed in. “But how does the royal family feel about it?”

“Apparently, Zen’s older brother, the Crown Prince, is also on their side, so they’ve been able to dodge much of the backlash that way,” said Mihaya. “But the king and queen are less than pleased. Apparently, Zen had been keeping many of the facts of the relationship a secret from his parents.”

“That relationship is strained as it is, from what I can recall,” said Raj. “He’s in for a fight.”

“No kidding,” said Mihaya.

“Oh, I know!” Raj’s eyes lit up in epiphany as he snapped his fingers. “We must invite them to Shenazade Castle.”

“What?” I said before I could check myself.

“It’s the only sensible thing to do,” said Raj. “As the Friend of the Crown, Shirayuki and her fiancé deserve to know they have the full support of Tanbarun, her motherland. Besides, the Midsummer’s Ball is in just a few short weeks. At the very least, I can allow them a reprieve from the persecution of their court. Have an invitation sent out at once. Actually, let me write a personal letter first to accompany it, so I can explain the rationale behind the impromptu inclusion. Yes, that will do.” He stood up and crossed the room to his writing desk.

“You want me to deliver it?” Mihaya asked, sounding nervous. He had just returned from Clarines, after all.

Raj turned and said, “Do you have something more important to do?”

He thought for a moment, then said, “No, not really.”

“Then I’d rather you than anyone else. Besides, the longer you’re at court, the more you annoy me.”

“Thanks a lot, Your Highness.” The young lord stood and bowed. “If it’s not too much to ask, could I maybe get something to eat before I’m running your errands again?”

“Yes, yes, you’re dismissed,” said Raj, waving him away from his seat at the writing desk.

Mihaya bowed to me with a roguish smirk and left the drawing room.

“He sure speaks freely, doesn’t he?” I remarked.

“Oh, he certainly does,” Raj said absently. “I prefer it that way.”

“Why?”

“Because it keeps me honest,” he said with a sigh. “Mihaya has all the bearing of a noble but none of the flattery. He spent most of his youth fighting to survive, his family was so disgracefully poor. Putting on airs was quite the low priority.”

“He can’t possibly be well-liked in court,” I said and instantly regretted the high-brow remark even if it was a statement of fact.

Raj stiffened in his chair. “Yes, well, by all counts neither am I. Perhaps I relish the thought of having someone around who’s less decorous than I. That would be very in character for me, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t say things like that about yourself,” I said. “Besides, you’re well-favored in court. In any case, your image has improved tremendously.”

He sighed. “If only I cared about such things anymore. Then perhaps I would be pleased.”

I let the ensuing silence stretch for a moment too long before I said, “I should take my leave. I’m disturbing your concentration.”

He turned around in his chair as if he’d just realized I was still there. “Not at all! You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Er—but you’re also free to leave, of course.”

I stood and curtsied. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

He leaped up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “Wait, Charlie. I wanted to thank you for your discretion today. At the market. In front of Mihaya. For—For having my back.”

As thrilled as I was to hear such an honest show of gratitude, I couldn’t take it at full value. “I only did what any responsible royal would’ve done, and even then, I can’t claim that I did much to help.”

“But you did,” he said, crossing the room to me. “You did, Charlie, and I hope you know just how much I appreciate it. As humiliating as it was, there’s no one I’d rather have been there to bear witness. You handle everything with such quiet composure. I honestly don’t know how you do it, but I feel steadier just by proxy. Not nearly as strong as I’d like to be, but when you’re around, it makes me think that maybe one day I could be.”

I was dumbstruck by his confession. “Well, I’m… flattered, Your Highness. Truly.”

“No need for formalities, remember?” he said with a smirk.

“Right. Yes. See you at dinner, Raj.”

His eyes held mine as if he wished to say something more, but he only smiled and nodded as I turned and left the room.

* * *

I retreated to my rooms before dinner, where I attempted to order my tumultuous thoughts into something more manageable. I can’t describe what exactly I felt after all that, but in any case, it was a tangled mess indeed. The events of the market seemed to pale in comparison to the knowledge that Shirayuki would likely soon be at Shenezade Castle. Part of me wanted nothing more than to see this red-haired enigma in person and at the same time, I was admittedly terrified of measuring myself against her and coming up short.

Raj had dropped everything to write her a letter without a second thought.

Why did that perturb me so? It was frightfully unfair of me to be so affected by something that gave Raj such joy, that inspired him to action. I’d avoided giving my feelings the label of jealousy out of fear of what that might mean, but I could deceive myself no longer.

I was jealous of Shirayuki. I was jealous of what she’d affected in Raj. I was jealous that he held her in such high regard after such a short period of time. It was terribly proud of me to think, but what did she have that I didn’t?

In my turmoil, I felt as if I might fold in on myself like a paper doll, but then Raj’s last remarks before I’d left his drawing room struck me like a gale: There’s no one I’d rather have been there.

Surely, that included the inscrutable Shirayuki, right? Or was he just being polite? Evidently, that was within his capacity as of late. But no, I knew him well enough to know when he was genuine. And the warmth that spread over me at the thought that he valued me as a person, and not as a potential bride, threatened to melt the frosty tendrils of jealousy that crept around the edges of my mind.

I never expected to care so much about what Raj thought of me. But to what end? Surely, I didn’t feel affection toward him. It was too early in our newfound friendship to tell whether the changes in his conduct were permanent. But it was not dangerous to admire the progress I’d seen, surely. Nor was it dangerous to enjoy his company. Or to think him handsome again.

Or to want him to think of me fondly.

I would have to keep such fanciful musings contained, as I must, and continue to handle each new experience in its time. I did not know what the future held, but I did know this: this summer, a season I had not enjoyed in quite some time, was far from over.

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks passed in a flourish as we prepared for the Midsummer’s Ball. Daily visits to the library persisted, as did meals taken with the royal family, naval lessons in Port Town (though we forewent the market from now on), and walks through the palace gardens. It was an easy rhythm, wholly uneventful when taken in sum but full of small, delightful moments when examined individually.

I didn’t always see Raj much during the day, and I took advantage of any alone time I had to sketch different areas of Shenazade Castle and draw portraits of the young prince and princess, in whose company I often found myself when their older brother was otherwise engaged.

Of course, much of my time was also preoccupied with preparations for the ball; as the summer guest of the palace, it was tradition for me to be actively involved in the planning process. The closer it got to that fateful day, the busier I was. In the past, I had usually been alone in my tasks. Raj was supposed to have helped, but he had a habit of declaring such things beneath him and conveniently disappearing into the woodwork whenever asked to contribute.

But this year, he was a willing participant. I attributed the sudden interest less to his change in character and more to his anticipation of a certain red-haired guest. I tried not to think petty thoughts toward the notion, but it seemed obvious that he was as determined to make this a welcome reception for the Friend of the Crown, who, naturally, had accepted his invitation a week prior.

It was five days before the night of the ball that we found ourselves abnormally unoccupied one evening in the eastern drawing room. There was neither a formal dinner (the king had business to conduct and had taken his dinner in his chambers) nor were there any prescheduled royal duties. We were, by all counts, free to do as we pleased.

“Well, it’s certainly been a whirlwind these past couple weeks,” said Raj, sounding breathless. “I feel as if I’ve hardly spoken to you if it wasn’t about how the napkins should be folded or what color your dress will be.”

“The Midsummer’s Ball always was a frantic time,” I said. “But the end result is always so beautiful as to be worth all the bustle.”

“Yes, well, in times past I had a tendency to enjoy the fruit of everyone else’s labors. Now that I’m in the thick of it, I have a newfound appreciation for the art of party planning.”

“Yes, it has been nice to see you involved,” I said, looking off to the side. “You may not care so much about all the bells and whistles, but you’ve always known very strongly what you like and dislike.”

He chuckled uneasily. “You mean to say I’m opinionated. Well, I can’t deny that.”

“You’re decisive,” I said. “A very valuable quality in a leader.”

“Yes, well, I hardly think having a strong opinion on tapestries is the makings of a great king.”

“It’s a start,” I said with a playful smirk.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, “Charlie, would you like to go out?”

I instantly straightened my posture. “Out? Out where? The gardens?”

“No, no.” He waved absently. “To town. To City Royale. Just down the hill.”

I gaped at him in awe. “Leave the palace? At night? Are you insane?”

“No more than usual,” he said. “I’d like to take you somewhere fun. Somewhere we can get away from all the marble and tapestries and itineraries. The nobility will begin arriving in droves starting tomorrow, and I’d like a bit of fresh air before I’m suffocated by all their flattery.”

This surprised me to hear. I thought that if he wasn’t at least eager for the ball in and of itself, he was anticipating the arrival of his Clarinese guests. The ball was on Saturday, and they were set to arrive by Friday.

“What about Sakaki? And Karina?” We’d dismissed them to go to dinner.

“We sneak out without them, of course.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? You do remember what happened in Port Town, don’t you?”

He rubbed his temples. “Sakaki is a loyal aide, but he has been my shadow for practically my entire life. And we’d be disguised, of course. I’m certain I can find some plain clothes laying around, something that could pass as common. No one would know who we were.”

“I—Well—”

“No pressure,” he said. “If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, forget I said anything.”

On the contrary, I was intrigued by the prospect. We had been shut up inside the palace for quite some time, and there hadn’t been an opportunity to go anywhere other than Port Town. On a normal day, I didn’t allow myself to be mischievous but something about the sparkle in his eyes made me want to indulge my less-than-proper tendencies.

“I’ll do it,” I said. “As long as you’re certain it would be safe.”

“I won’t allow any harm to befall you, Princess. You have my word.”

For some reason, the declaration made me flush warm.

“Act like you’re going to sleep and then wait until a quarter ‘til ten. The servants aren’t on the upper floors at that time. Slip out and come to my drawing room. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What do I wear?” I asked.

He considered a moment, then said, “Come in your dressing gown. I’ll have a disguise ready for you.”

I flushed. “All right. If you say so.”

* * *

A quarter ‘til ten came much quicker than I could’ve anticipated. Heart pounding, I tip-toed my way down the hall to Raj’s chambers and slipped inside undetected. I had to take a moment to breathe in relief before facing the drawing room. It was empty.

“Raj?” I asked.

“Back here,” he said from beyond the doorway that led to his bed chambers. Taking another deep breath, I made my way across the room and stood in the wide opening. I’d never been inside his bedroom. It just wasn’t done. But the stately furniture matched that of the drawing room and it was clean, cleaner than I’d expected any private space of Raj’s to be. He stood beside the bed, where he’d laid out our disguises, and seemed deep in consideration.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

He looked up at me as if he’d only just now realized I was there. “Don’t be mad at me, but I could only find men’s clothes. You may have to disguise yourself as a boy.”

“It’s probably safer that way, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said. “But you’re too pretty to pass for a boy.”

I was flattered, even if the compliment was more of a hindrance than an asset. “I’m sure you’re only used to seeing me in finery. Anyone looks plain when they’re dressed plainly.”

He sighed and gathered up a few of the articles. “I suppose you’re right. Go ahead and use my dressing room to change.”

I gladly acquiesced and donned the homespun servants’ clothes myself—a much easier task than trying to get into a dress by myself would’ve been. Ironic how luxury means many of the things you do are more complicated and inconvenient than they would be otherwise.

Emerging from the room transformed, I found Raj in like manner: simple trousers, a white shirt, a vest, a red kerchief, and a hat. He looked so… normal. And yet it did little to dull his regal bearing, which no manner of rags could hide. A pang of fear warned me that we may not blend in so well after all—our very presence could give us away.

“Well, don’t you look dashing,” I said.

“I look good in everything, you know that,” he said with a smirk. “But you still look like a princess dressed as a page. We need to do something about your hair.”

“What about my hair? It’s tied back.”

“We must hide it under a hat.” He took his off and handed it to me. “Can you fit it all under there?”

“Can I fit it, he asks.” I snatched the hat from him and moved to the vanity mirror. “I’ll braid it into a crown. I think I remember how.”

Fifteen minutes of frustration later, my hair was safely stowed under the pageboy cap and Raj led me to the fireplace on the far side of his room, holding a candle he’d lit. “Now, time for a magic trick.” He felt along the edge where the mantle met the wall until something clicked, and the wall panel swung open into a dark abyss.

“A secret passage,” I said in awe. “How predictable.”
            “A servants’ entrance, obviously,” he said. “One I’m not supposed to know about, but unfortunately for them, I’m not that stupid. Come on.” He took me by the hand, the other lighting our path, and led us into the dark service tunnel. I closed the door behind us, sealing us off from the warmth and security of the palace.

My heart started beating about a million times a minute.

“You’re sure no one will catch us down here?” I asked in a whisper.

“They only use it in the case of emergencies, so yes,” Raj answered. “And no one’s going to be passing through here this late at night.”

He was right about that much: we encountered no one as we made our way down several flights of narrow, stone stairs until we finally came to a small foyer with a wooden door. This Raj opened and led us into the fresh night air.

“Wow,” I said. “I can’t in good faith remember the last time I was out at night.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel alive?” Raj said, looking back at me. The moonlight from the almost-full moon highlighted the planes of his face. The effect was altogether disarming. “One can only be stifled by the palace for so long before feeling like little more than an automaton.”

“Where on the grounds are we?”

“The far east side, near the groves. We’ll cut through them to the garden gate and head down the pathway that leads to the royal road. It’s perfectly safe.”

I followed him through the trees to the garden wall. Sure enough, there was a gate, but it was locked. No guard stood by, though I still got an ominous feeling, like someone was watching us. I chalked it up to paranoia—if we were caught, the punishment could be severe.

“Ah, not to worry,” said Raj with a chuckle. “We’ll just scale the gate.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “You… and I… climb?”

“Nothing to it,” he said, approaching the wrought-iron bars and finding a foothold. “I have to scale the shrouds on the ship. My paralyzing fear of heights is sure to kick in less since we’re not as high off the ground.” With that, he hoisted himself up to the top of the gate, paused to regain his stability, and swung one leg over the top, followed by the other. Then he scaled down with surprising grace, collapsing only when he hit the bottom.

“I’d give that a solid seven out of ten,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, do shut up,” he said, matching my levity. “Your turn. I’ll help you at the top.”

Princesses don’t climb, but there was a time when Raj and I used to climb the trees in the garden, when we were little and prone to mischief. Then one day, Raj had dared me to jump, and I’d done it—and had nearly broken my ankle in the process. That had discouraged me from any further acrobatics, so the irony of climbing over a gate at his behest did not escape me.

But things were different now, weren’t they?

At the top, I hesitated, feeling less confident now that I had committed to the endeavor. The gate was about six feet off the ground and even in pants, I was not the most agile creature.

“It’s all right,” said Raj. “Just swing one leg over, then the other. I’m here to catch you if you fall.”

I dare you to jump. What are you, a scaredy-cat?

I tried to take my time, but as soon as I got my second leg over, my body betrayed me and all manner of equilibrium ceased. I screamed as I fell.

My fall stopped short when Raj caught me. We both crashed to the ground, but Raj hit first and cushioned the blow, myself landing face-first on top of him.

He let out a mighty groan and said, “Are you all right?”

“You caught me,” I said, hovering over him, the pure shock of falling rooting me in place even though I was painfully aware of how close together we were, of how his hands were firmly gripping my waist.

“I said I would,” he said, winded. “Did you not believe me?”

“Of course I believed you,” I said. “I’m just surprised you did it so well.”

He harrumphed, letting my (admittedly) backhanded compliment slide. “So then you’re not hurt?”

“No. Are you?”

“No, I’m…” He paused, searching my face in a way that made me very aware of myself. And yet I could not move. To my dismay, I did not want to. Not until he asked. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I already said I was.”

“But you’re telling the truth?”

“Of course I am. Are you?”

“Well, truth be told, I might be a little stiff in the morning.” Then, his eyes went wide, as if he’d just realized how compromising a position we were in. Alarmed by his alarm, I finally found my decency and rolled off of him, allowing him to sit up and make sure everything was in good working order. Thankfully, I had not broken him beyond repair. “Shall we get a move on while the night is still young?”

I was tempted to say that I’d already had enough excitement for one night, but he seemed embarrassed, so I held my tongue and allowed him to lead me down the gradual slope and onto the royal road that took merchants from the palace grounds to City Royale.

“How long of a walk is it?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

“Well… I’ve never actually managed to get this far before.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “What? I thought you did this all the time!"

“I never said that!” he retorted, continuing on.

I marched double-time to catch up to him. “Well, then, how far have you gotten?”

He hesitated.

“Raj. How far?”

“Usually I get halfway up the garden gate and chicken out. I told you I don’t like heights!”

“Poppycock!” I exclaimed. “You scaled that thing like an acrobat just now. Why the sudden bout of fortitude, pray tell?”

“Because you’re here, obviously,” he said, flustered. “Because I feel an irrational need to prove myself to you, constantly. To impress you.”

That left me stunned. “Risking your health does not impress me, Raj. If this whole escapade is just some demented way for you to showboat, then we should turn back and go home right now. I won’t have it.”

“That’s not why—argh—you wouldn’t understand!” He picked up the pace, visually agitated.

I matched his gait to keep up with him. “What wouldn’t I understand? Why must you feel the need to impress me?”

“Because you’re so damn difficult to please!” he exclaimed. “And it makes me feel small!”

“Oh, I’m sorry your fragile ego is so sensitive to my lack of superficiality. Perhaps the next time you want to impress a girl, you should actually ask her what she’s impressed by.”

“Well, what are you impressed by, Princess?” he asked in a flippant, irreverent way.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to ask like that!”

At that, he stopped, turned, and started marching the opposite way.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

“Home,” he said. “Forget it. The midnight escapade is over. Since I can’t do anything right by you anyway, I might as well forfeit it all now.”

“That is wholly unfair,” I said. “You’re acting like a child. A spoiled, petty child.”

“And you’re acting like a princess. A haughty, entitled princess.”

We stared each other down, gridlocked. He turned away first, to my utter surprise. “I’m not showboating,” he said. “I’m trying to… be someone… you could be proud of.”

“I am proud of you, Raj,” I said, realizing that in my efforts to appear aloof, objective, and guarded, I had all but rejected his sincerity. “I’m immensely proud. You’ve grown by leaps and bounds. You’re twice the man you were the last time we met, and I have no doubt that accolade will continue to multiply as time goes on.”

He looked askance. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m not impressed by feats of strength or agility, nor by displays of wealth and luxury. I’m impressed that you overcame your fear of public speaking to rally those merchants. I’m impressed that you had the fortitude to lead a naval fleet through a maelstrom. I’m impressed that you’ve tried to right your wrongs, that you endeavor to be a better person and a better prince. I’m impressed by your determination, your self-awareness. Most of all, I’m impressed by your kindness, Raj.”

“Kindness?” I could tell the word was unfamiliar to him, at least in the context of himself. “I am not so very kind as all that.”

“If you say so,” I said, kicking at a rock in the road. “But your actions say otherwise.”

He held my gaze for a long moment, speechless. “You really mean it? Everything you said?”

“A princess is only as good as her word. Of course I mean it.”

He took my hand, bowed, and kissed it. “Then I shall do everything in my power to maintain your good opinion.”

I politely took my hand back, mainly because it tingled. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for your kingdom. For your people. For yourself.”

“Myself, you say?”

“Yes. It’s not selfish to hold yourself to a high standard. You have a duty to your heart, after all.”

“Such as it is,” he remarked.

“Stop that, now,” I said. “I won’t allow you to undercut yourself any longer.”

“I hardly think you have the authority to decide when and where I should suffer,” he said with a lightness that confirmed our reconciliation.

“Then who does? Certainly not you,” I replied.

“Mock me then, I don’t care.” He turned his nose up dramatically. “Will we continue our midnight mischief or have you had enough for one evening?”

“You promised me fun, Raj. You would be remiss if you didn’t deliver on that promise.”

He peered down at me with a smirk. “Very well, Princess. To town we go.”

Chapter Text

The walk to town was not as long as I expected, and it was a pleasant night. The cobblestone streets were lit with gas lanterns and men and women laughed and talked outside brightly-lit inns and taverns. I suppose I should’ve been concerned about debauchery, but this was the royal city, a place of trade, a place where wealthy merchants and dignitaries came to stay. It was not as dangerous as all that, though we were not in the wealthiest district—it seemed we had come in through the artisans’ sector of town, as evidenced by all the craftsmen names and signage along the streets.

There was music coming from the main square, and overall it had the air of a festival, though Raj explained that this was the night market and people came out here every day starting at dusk for food, drink, and revelry. People danced to the fiddlers who stood on the fountain and without warning, Raj pulled me into the fray.

“Dancing in the street?” I exclaimed as he swept me up into the steps of the round.

“It sure beats the rigidity of a ball, don’t you think?” he said close to my ear.

“I suppose there is less pressure to perform,” I mused. “Or to be presentable.”

“Just because you’re not wearing a dress doesn’t mean you’re not presentable.”

I deflected the unexpected compliment by remarking, “You know, I’ve never worn pants before.”

“How do you like it?”

“It feels like I’m missing a layer or twenty.”

He laughed. “I’ll confess, your dresses do suit you, Princess.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t call me that so loud.”

“Perhaps I mean it as a term of endearment.”

“Oh, well, then perhaps I prefer ‘darling’ or ‘dearest.’”

He slowed to a sway. “What would you prefer?”

“Um…”

The song ended and the lead fiddler announced, “Time for a contradance! Everyone, two lines. Ladies on one side. Gentlemen on the other.”

“Well, this should be interesting,” I said, taking a few steps away from him and into the line forming behind me.

“Whatever happens, I won’t lose sight of you,” he said.

My heart did a flip as the band struck up again, we bowed, and the line dance began. It involved the ladies changing partners after each set of steps, so I found myself moving down the line, dancing with men of all ages. I felt very self-conscious and kept glancing back over at Raj, who looked just as nervous.

As soon as the dance ended, I made haste to rejoin Raj, but one of the men I’d danced with—hardly older than we were, but taller and bigger—blocked my path. “I couldn’t help but notice your wardrobe doesn’t suit such a pretty face.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said as meekly as possible. “It’s for work, you see.”

“Where do you work?”

“Um—”

Raj appeared beside me. “There you are! Come on, I’m parched.” He gave the young man a once-over. “Beg your pardon.”

“Is she with you, then?” the young man asked.

“With me? Good sir, she is my wife.” As soon as the words left his lips, I could tell Raj hadn’t meant to say them. He could’ve said “date,” “friend,” or “girlfriend.” Even “fiancée” would’ve been sufficient. But no, he’d said what he’d said.

“Married? So young? You must be childhood sweethearts, then.”

“Evidently,” said Raj. “Good day to you, sir.” He took me by the arm and pulled me through the crowd, not stopping until we’d put a bit of distance between ourselves and the inquisitive fellow.

“So I’m your wife now, am I?” I said jokingly. “I don’t remember the wedding. Or the proposal, for that matter.”

“Shush,” he said, looking around for somewhere to go. He started toward a tavern called The Orange Blossom. “There’s no faster way to get a man with a look like that in his eyes off your back than to say you’re married.”

“What look in his eyes?”

“He wanted you, obviously,” he said, pulling me into the tavern.

“Wanted me? And how do you know he wanted me?”

He took the nearest empty table and motioned for me to sit. “Because all men are the same.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Fine, then. Because all men know that look. Because we all have that look.”

“Including you?” To my displeasure, my mind conjured the memory of the summer before last when he’d made his advance on me. There had been an awfully devious look in his eyes then.

“What do you think?” He propped one elbow on the table, cradling his head. “Actually, don’t answer that. I just gained your good opinion, after all. I’d hate to lose it.”

“I already know how you are—were—with women,” I said. “Everyone knew. It’s what got you into so much trouble in the first place.”

“Yes, don’t remind me,” he mumbled.

A barmaid approached our table then and said, “What’re we having?”

“Two pints of your house ale,” said Raj automatically.

“Coming right up,” said the barmaid, flouncing away.

“Drinking? Ale?” I exclaimed.

“Have you ever had it?”

“No, I’m more of a champagne girl myself.”

“And myself a red wine man, but one mustn’t pass up the opportunity for a good tavern ale.”

“How do you know it’s good?”

“I’m being optimistic.”

The barmaid returned and set two (frankly) huge mugs of beer in front of us.

Raj tasted it first. “Eh. It’ll pass.”

“High-brow,” I murmured, tasting it myself. It wasn’t half bad—not that I had much of a frame of reference. A princess didn’t drink unless it was on ceremony.

“So, Charlie, on the subject of me and women—”

I waved him away, though it generated an odd pang in my chest to do so. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me. What you do in your private life is none of my concern.”

He flushed. “How can you be so diplomatic about everything? Shouldn’t you be outraged? Appalled? Offended?”

“Would you prefer I was?”

He sat back, took a long swig of his ale, and said, “I’d prefer it if you were honest.”

“I am honest.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he let the matter slide. Or so I thought. “So, not to pry, but what about you and men? Is there anyone? Any suitors?”

“I hardly think that’s any of your concern,” I said evenly.

“There is, isn’t there? Who is he? Do I know him?” He was halfway out of his chair in his fervor.

“Calm down, Raj. There is no one. There hasn’t been time for anyone. I’ve been far too preoccupied with my royal duties, and besides, as second eldest, it’s hardly the highest priority. My brother is under much greater fire. And then there’s the simple fact that my parents have always intended me for you, and therefore didn’t think to bring anyone else around.”

He settled back into his seat with a far-off look in his eye. “You were sent here under the pretense that you would return home engaged to me, weren’t you?”

“Well, apparently we’re already married,” I joked, gesturing to him. “So I’ll have great news to write home about in the morning.”

He scoffed. “I apologize if I overstepped. I promise it was only for your protection.”

“Apology accepted.”

There was an awkward silence that followed.

“Charlie,” Raj began. “Do you—”

He was interrupted by the entrance of a rowdy group of men, hooting and hollering as they barreled their way to the bar counter and ordered a round. I didn’t think much of it at first, until I recognized one of the rabble-rousers as the man who had accosted me in the town square. He made eye contact with me and approached our table before I could say anything.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” he said, putting his palms on our table. “Frequent patrons of The Orange Blossom, are you?”

“We thought we’d give it a try,” said Raj. “And we’d appreciate it if you’d leave us in peace.”

“Touchy,” said the man. “You talk funny, you know that?”

“Sorry if my vocal cords offend you. I can’t exactly do anything about them.”

“I mean your accent,” said the man. “It sounds very… proper.”

“I can’t help it if I had access to a good education while others, evidently, did not.” He gave the man a very pretentious once-over.

The man pushed off the table, catching the drift, and said, “Tch. You better watch that fancy mouth of yours.” He returned to his friends, leaving us in peace.

“You can’t just say things like that,” I said in a low voice. “Remember, you’re not a prince right now.”

“Yes, well, at least he’s gone now. Perhaps we should move on.”

But before we could so much as get up, another man approached our table—another member of the young man’s friend group. This man was older, with shifty, intelligent eyes and a lanky frame.

“Tadao over there tells me you’re newlyweds,” said his friend. “Congratulations on the nuptials. What is this, your honeymoon?”

“Something like that,” Raj said, a stiff hand gripping his mug.

“Seems awfully inconsiderate to make your bride dress in such unflattering garb, don’t you think?”

“I hardly think it’s your business to remark on what my wife wears,” Raj snapped.

“I mean no offense, good sir. I only mean that such a lovely young lady deserves to be in something that compliments her fine features. I happen to have some dresses among my wares. Perhaps you’d be interested in taking a look?”

“No, thank you,” said Raj. “I appreciate the offer, but we are quite fine as we are.”

The man stared him down for a moment before turning to me. “And what does the lady have to say about this? Does he let you have an opinion, or has matrimony already robbed you of a tongue?”

“That’s quite enough, sir,” I said. “I agree with my husband. I am fine as I am.”

“My, my, Tadao was right about your fancy accents. Tell me, what does it say about a person to be dressed in an odd way, talking all high-falutin’, sitting in a tavern where everybody knows everybody but them?”

Raj and I exchanged a look: We’ve been had.

“You wanna know what I think?” The man didn’t wait for our assent. “I think you’re a couple of rich kids what ran away from home. Perhaps you are lovers whose parents didn’t approve of the match, or perhaps that’s just your cover, but in any case, I have a hunch: one or both of you took plenty of Daddy’s money before you quit your fancy manors.”

“You are mistaken, sir,” said Raj. “We have no money.”

“You think the ale here is free?” he asked, motioning to our half-drunken pints. “Either we do this now, peacefully, or we do it later, in a dark alley.” He opened his vest, revealing a dagger. “The choice is yours.”

Fear gripped me like a vice. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. “Just do as he asks, Raj.”

I hadn’t meant to say his name. I froze, hoping the man would mishear. But he didn’t. The look on his face turned hungry as he said, “Raj, you say? Funny, that’s the same name as the Crown Prince. Now, that would just be a coincidence, wouldn’t it? Surely, our Crown Prince, the one who is supposed to be so honorable and so reformed, wouldn’t be here slumming it with the common folk, dragging an innocent girl into debauchery with him? No, that would positively ruin his hard-won public image.”

Cursing under his breath, Raj rummaged in his pocket and handed the blackmailer his satchel. The man smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you, Your Highness.”

“Come on. We’re leaving,” said Raj to me, standing in a rush.

“You know, I’d hate to ruin your night of fun,” said the man. “If you’d like some of your money back, I’d be happy to exchange half for an hour with the girl.”

Raj froze, his eyes fixed on the man with a feral intensity. “You watch your tongue.”

“I’d rather watch hers.”

Without a second thought, Raj swung and punched the man in the face. It was as if a firecracker had gone off. The entire tavern was on its feet. The rest of the man’s gang rushed Raj with alarming speed and tackled him to the floor, holding him down and punching him repeatedly.

A big, barrel-chested man came out from the tavern's back room and boomed, “Take it outside! Now!”

The men didn’t waste any time; they hauled Raj to his feet and threw him out the door and into the muddy street. By this time, I’d come to my senses and ran after them, screaming,

“Stop! Stop this at once! Somebody do something!”

But passersby either hastened to the opposite side of the street or gathered around to watch this deplorable display of brutality. Raj was outnumbered five to one, and he was no fighter. Two of the men held him up while the other three took turns punching him and kicking him. At one point, I foolishly leaped into the fray and tried to put myself between him and them, thinking they would stop if their target was obstructed. For my trouble, I was punched in the gut and tossed to the side.

It was the man Raj had punched—the only one who knew who he really was—who broke through the crowd and said, “All right, boys, I think he’s had enough. Enough, I said!”

The men landed a few more punches before ceasing and throwing him down into the mud. I rushed to him, shielding him with my body as the gang retreated. The man who’d been punched—and Raj had gotten him good, because his eye already looked swollen—stood over us with a look of disdain.

“For the doctor,” he said, and flicked a coin at us before walking away.

Chapter Text

Raj was in very poor shape. They’d beat him senseless, and it wasn’t as if he had a particularly high tolerance for pain, though his endurance had certainly improved in the past two years. I had to hoist him up and bear his full weight as we moved down the street, looking for a safer place to be.

I was at a loss. We had been completely out of our depths to begin with, but now I had an injured prince on my hands, in a city I did not know, with our refuge a mile walk uphill at least. There was no way the both of us could make it with Raj in the state he was in, which meant I needed to find somewhere we could lodge for the night.

“Charlie… I’m sorry…” Raj mumbled as we limped down the street.

“Do shut up,” I said. “There will be time to apologize later.”

“I’m a coward…”

“Don’t you ever listen to a word I say?” I turned right down a narrow street and stopped outside a building marked, Boys’ House. “This is going to have to do.”

Inside the small foyer, a plump, matronly woman entered from a side door. She looked us up and down with wide eyes. “God in heaven, what happened to him?”

“Bar fight,” I said, winded, and hoping the mud from the street that now covered me helped me pass as a boy. “Would you happen to have any rooms available?”

“Rooms, no. Beds, hardly. I can offer you a mat to share, a blanket, and some rudimentary first aid.”

“That would do perfectly well, ma’am, thank you,” I said.

The woman summoned two tall, scrawny boys not much younger than we were to bear Raj down the hall and to the left, where the sleeping quarters were. I followed. Inside, there were no less than two dozen boys sitting on narrow beds, who looked at us with mixed expressions of confusion and awe as Raj was dumped onto an empty cot, evidently belonging to one of the boys who had carried him in.

The caretaker came in a moment later with a basin of water and an armful of medical supplies, which she placed on the ground.

“Would you help me strip him?” she asked me.

I thought I’d misheard. “I’m sorry?”

“He’s filthy, and besides, I can’t see what’s wrong with him under there. He could have broken bones, lacerations. Thankfully I don’t see much blood beside his nose and lip. Were there any weapons involved?”

“No, just fists and boots,” I said, still making no effort to do as she’d asked.

“Right then, just his shirt should do for now.”

I had to fight the urge to refuse; so far, it seemed they hadn’t suspected I was a girl, and I wasn’t about to give myself away now. Still, I tried to avert my eyes as the caretaker propped him up and I eased him out of his vest and shirt. To no avail. I looked anyway and felt sorry I did, but not for impropriety's sake--the bruises were already starting to form along his ribcage and stomach, and they didn't look good. I prayed to God nothing was broken.

“Is he a friend or a relation?” the woman asked as she cleaned him up.

“Erm, a friend, ma’am,” I said quickly.

“What is his name?”

“R—” This time, I thought better. “Ren.”

“And your name?”

“Charlie,” I said, thankful my nickname was a safe pseudonym.

“I am Madame Muna,” said the woman. “And you’ve come to the right place. This is a house for boys with nowhere else to go.”

“We’re grateful for your hospitality, ma’am,” I said.

At that, she shot me a bemused look. “Such nice manners. The boys around here could learn something from you.”

I chuckled uneasily in response. I needed to tone down my vocabulary—street urchins did not speak with proper grammar.

Madame Muna instructed me to clean his wounds, after which she disinfected and bandaged them. In no time, we had Raj patched up and the two boys who’d borne him transferred him carefully to a mat placed by the fire. I was led to the latrine to wash up, which I did even if it might give away what I was. When I returned, someone had set out a cup of water and a piece of bread.

I’d never been to an orphanage before, let alone gone undercover at one. Was this really what it was like?

Raj slept fitfully, but I was far from tired, so I sat up and watched the fire. The occupants of the room had seemed curious about us when we’d first arrived, but they must’ve been instructed to leave us alone because no one had tried to interact with me… until I’d resolved to go to sleep.

That is when a young boy, about the same age as Rona and Eugena, approached me and said, “Hi, there. I’m Niko.”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Charlie. That’s Ren.” I nodded to Raj.

“Is he gonna be okay? Some of us were wondering. He looked pretty beat up when they brought him in.”

“He’ll live,” I said. Then I leaned forward and said, “He’s fought pirates before.”

Niko scoffed. “You’re lying.”

“Or exaggerating. How old are you, Niko?”

“Eleven. I’ll be twelve in the fall.” He sat down cross-legged next to me, at Raj’s feet.

“Congratulations.”

“It’s not so big a deal as all that,” he said, looking down. “Anyways, what happened to him?”

“He got into a bar fight at The Orange Blossom,” I said, seeing no reason to lie.

“Really? Is he a scrapper? He looks a little scrawny for a scrapper.”

“No, he’s actually quite averse—I mean, he doesn’t like fighting. But someone egged him on, so, I guess he finally snapped.”

“People got dirty mouths. And when they drink, sometimes they start looking for fights. I’ve never understood it.”

“Me either,” I said, impressed by the child’s world wisdom. “I suppose it was stupid of us to go traipsing around the square like a couple of lost puppies.”

“The square’s fun and all, but a lotta criminals hang around there looking for easy prey. You have to watch your back. We’re not allowed to leave the street alone—Madame makes us travel in pairs at the least.”

“Well, he had me, and I didn’t do much to help him,” I said, suddenly ashamed. “I can’t fight to save my life.”

“But you brought him here,” said Niko. “Think of what would’ve happened if he’d been all alone. He would’ve been trampled in the street. He might’ve died.”

That much was true, but if I hadn’t been there, he might not have gotten into that fight to begin with. He had been defending my honor after all, and while part of me was proud of him for being so chivalrous, the better part of me felt at fault.

“Way to look at the bright side,” I said, and meant it. “You are exactly right.”

“Do you think you’re going to stay here?” he asked. “You and Ren?”

“No, I’m afraid we won’t be here for more than the night,” I said. “As long as Ren can walk in the morning, we’re going to have to move on.”

“Do you have a home to go back to?”

I couldn’t lie, though part of me wanted to. “Yes, we do,” I said solemnly. “It was foolish of us to leave in the first place. I intend never to take the luxury for granted ever again.”

“Sometimes, home is the worst place to be,” said Niko, a far-off look in his eye. “Half of us aren’t orphans, you know. There’s also runaways.”

“In that case, I’m glad to see you’ve found a safe haven.”

“Once I turn twelve, I’ll start an apprenticeship,” Niko said, sounding nervous. “I’ll be sent to work, and I can’t come back here unless I make money.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I said.

“The thing is, it’s not the work I’m afraid of. It’s my father finding out I work and taking my wages. Then not only will he have found me, but I won’t be able to come back to the House.”

“Have you told Madame about this?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes, and she said she’d make sure I was sent somewhere far enough away that he wouldn’t find me. But he always finds me. I don’t know how, but he does.”

My heart ached with compassion. I wanted to help, but what could I do? “Don’t assume the worst, Niko,” I said, though it felt like a stale affirmation. “Perhaps… perhaps when you do go off to work, you should set to making friends with the nicest, strongest man in the factory. Then you’ll never have to go anywhere alone.”

Niko brightened. “That’s a great idea, actually.”

“I have you to credit for it.”

His countenance had returned to its initial amiability as he hauled himself to his feet. “I’m glad I got to talk to you. If I don’t see you in the morning, I hope all goes well for you.”

“Likewise,” I said with a nod.

He returned to his bunk, and I almost screamed when a hand reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Raj!” I hissed.

“That was very kind of you,” he said, his voice like rough gravel.

“You were awake the whole time?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“How are you feeling?”

He groaned. “Like royal manure.”

“Do you need anything?”

“For you to stay.”

“I’m right here,” I reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Stay… forever…”

I couldn’t tell how literally he meant it, especially with the state he was in. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said again. “Here, you need to drink something.” I picked up the cup of water with one hand and propped his head up with the other so he could drink. He downed it quickly and lowered his head back to the mat with a pained sigh.

I found myself pushing his hair back from his forehead and running my fingers through the tangled mess. The action was unexpectedly soothing to me, and the way he closed his eyes against my touch implied that he felt the same way. Although, I supposed it just as easily could have been a result of exhaustion. Nonetheless, I couldn't bring myself to stop.

“Your hand is cold,” he remarked.

“Sorry.” I retracted said hand.

“No, don’t stop. It feels… nice. I’m rather warm.”

Instead of resuming, I put the back of my hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. Must be the fire.”

“Or the heat of my shame,” he said. “I take it I did not impress you tonight, Princess?”

“Oh, you impressed me all right,” I said, lowering myself to lay beside him. “You impressed upon me the importance of knowing when to keep one's mouth shut.”

He chuckled, so soft it could’ve been a cough. “Well, it was worth it. No one… insults… my wife.”

“You’re delirious. Go to sleep.”

“You’ll sleep beside me?”

“I don’t see anywhere else I’d go.” We were long past impropriety at this point, but then again, it wasn’t improper for a couple of street urchins to sleep in a huddle.

Then Raj reached forward and took my hand in his. I did not fight him—if my cold hand felt good to him, then his warmth felt good to me. And I did feel rather sorry about how this night had turned out, especially after I’d insisted on continuing it. I was certain Raj would blame himself but all I could think about was how I could have been smarter. Wiser. Less naive.

In spite of it all, there was something special about this moment—lying beside him, holding his hand, no one here knowing who we were. No one from the palace knowing where we were. It was like we had stepped into a realm between realms, and for just a moment, we weren’t a prince and a princess who had snuck away from the grandeur of royal life—we were just Raj and Charlie, and for once, that was enough.

Chapter Text

In the morning, I woke first, climbing slowly out of a fraught dream state and into what was, at first, utter confusion as to where I was. Then I saw Raj in front of me, fast asleep, his face mere inches from my own. My stomach did a somersault, but not for the reasons it should’ve: both his eyes were swollen and purple, he had a busted lip, and an ugly bruise painted the left side of his jawbone. That’s when it all came rushing back like a mighty gust of wind.

What had I done? What had Raj done? Why had we stayed in the boarding house? Now we had to sneak back into the palace in broad daylight.

What time is it, anyway? I quickly pulled myself to standing and looked for the nearest window. Judging by the light and the fact that the beds were all vacated, it had to be mid-morning at least! The palace had to know we were missing by now. They’d be in an uproar. How were we going to get back without detection?

I considered jostling Raj awake and dragging him out of here, but I needed to get my head on straight first. Besides, the poor boy deserved a few more precious moments of sleep. I quietly got up and left the bedroom, navigating down the hall past an empty dining room and a kitchen that several boys were in the process of cleaning.

On the other side of the hall was a classroom that was currently in session. I counted about thirty boys sitting in rows. The teacher was a young man with short blonde hair and was obviously a scholar of some kind. Perhaps he was a university student who volunteered his time… or perhaps this was some sort of academic punishment.

I hadn’t realized how far I’d been leaning in until the teacher looked up, his round spectacles catching the window's light, and said, “Hello, there. Care to join us?”

“Ehm…” I doubted there was much he could do if I refused, but something about the stillness in the room as thirty pairs of eyes looked at me was enough to compel me to say, “Sure.”

Niko jumped up from his seat in the far-left corner and said, “You can sit next to me!”

“Oh. All right.” I took my seat at the empty desk to his right.

“How’s Ren?” he whispered.

“Still sleeping,” I whispered back.

“All right, class,” said the teacher. “Take out your tablets. We’ll be reviewing the vocabulary from yesterday and then I want you each to write three sentences, each using at least one vocabulary word. Whole sentences, properly punctuated. Seven and younger, get an older boy to help you out if you need it.”

The teacher proceeded to write a list of words on the board—surprisingly complex words, like “mischief,” “receive,” and “relief,” which I assumed were chosen specifically to teach the “I before E” rule—and had the boys recite them. Then the assignment began.

Niko thought hard about his sentences while I decided I probably shouldn’t think very hard at all. I tried to write as plainly as I could and choose simple sentences such as, “I received a gift from my brother.” The teacher walked around as the class wrote, nodding when a boy spelled something right or correcting when a boy spelled something wrong. He passed by my desk and I felt his discerning eyes on my now-completed sentences.

“May I see yours?” he asked me.

I swallowed. “Of course.”

He took my tablet and scrutinized it closely. “You have exceptional penmanship,” he said. “Were you educated elsewhere?”

“Yes,” I said softly. “A little.”

“I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“It’s Charlie.”

“He’s new,” said Niko. “He and his friend, Ren, just arrived last night. Ren got in a bar fight. He’s still asleep. I don’t think he’ll be in class today.”

“He’s excused,” said the teacher, glancing at me. “How old are you?”

I wondered if I should lie but ultimately decided against it. “Eighteen.”

“I see. Have you an apprenticeship lined up yet?”

“No, ehm… we’re working on it.”

“You should apply to be a scribe,” he said, handing the tablet back to me. “You have the proficiency for it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Would you like to help check everyone else’s work?” he asked. “This could go much quicker if I had an assistant.”

“Ehm… I suppose so. Sure.” Why I was so suggestible, I couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if we exactly had the time for me to play schoolboy. But there was something so compelling about being here—perhaps it was because this was a space that I, as both a girl and a princess, was never supposed to occupy. I felt as if I had gained access to a secret world, one whose trappings may be humble but whose purpose seemed ultimately grander and nobler than anything I’d ever done.

So I helped the teacher—whose name, I learned, was Hinata—grade the boys’ sentences, many of which were very well done or only had a word or two misspelled. They obviously respected Hinata as their teacher, perhaps because he was a scholar or perhaps because he took their education so seriously. Afterward, he dismissed them for a ten-minute latrine break.

I had every intention of getting Raj up and getting us out of here, but before I could leave, Hinata said, “Charlie, could you spare a moment?”

“I… suppose,” I said, approaching him.

He adjusted his glasses and said, “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know a disguise when I see it. What are you doing at a boys’ house?”

I steeled my expression. “My friend is hurt. We had nowhere else to go.”

“The one who got into the bar fight,” he said dubiously.

“Yes, that one,” I snapped. “We made a mistake. He ran his mouth to the wrong person.”

“Where are you from?”

I paused. “It doesn’t matter. We need to leave. I need to get him out here before—” I stopped myself.

“Before what?”

“That’s none of your concern,” I said. “But thank you for… for not saying anything. Your discretion will not go unappreciated.”

“You’re of high birth,” he said. “Noble birth at least. That’s my best guess.”

“It’s a good guess,” I said and left the classroom.

Back in the dormitory, Raj was nowhere to be found. The mat lay abandoned, the embers of the fire still smoldering. I searched everywhere; the dining room, the kitchen, the foyer, the washroom—then I thought to check the backdoor, thinking he might’ve assumed I’d been waiting for him there. As soon as I stepped outside, a hand clamped over my mouth so quickly I didn’t have time to scream. Another hand twisted my arm behind my back.

“If you value the prince’s life, you’ll come quietly,” said a surprisingly soft voice in my ear.

I didn’t resist as the unknown assailant steered me into an alleyway to the left and through a low doorway that led into what appeared to be an abandoned storefront of some kind. Another figure, dressed head to toe in black, gagged me while the other bound my hands, and then they led me upstairs to a small room with two chairs. In one sat Raj, also bound and gagged.
I made a muffled sound and he looked up at me with panicked eyes.

The first captor deposited me into the empty chair while the second lit a lantern and then, with a nod toward his companion, left the room. Now illuminated, I could see that the first captor was a man in his early thirties with black hair shorn close at the sides, a regal nose, and a vertical scar running from his temple to his jaw. There was intelligence in his eyes, but also anger.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” he said. “The Crown Prince and his princess-in-residence? I cannot imagine a more serendipitous encounter.”

Raj tried to talk back, but the gag muffled it.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” the man said. “Oh, you’re probably just spewing empty threats anyway. ‘You have no idea who you’re dealing with.’ ‘Just wait until the king hears about this.’ On and on and on. Well, perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to slum it with the poor and get yourself in this debacle.”

Raj continued to struggle, but it was in vain.

“I don’t imagine you know who I am, do you?” He didn’t wait for Raj to make any sort of indicative noise. “No? I didn’t think you would. They call me the Bookkeeper. I am a businessman. A simple entrepreneur. I kept the Claw of the Sea’s books as well as those of many other… let’s say influential figures. As you can imagine, business has been somewhat harried as of late. No thanks to you.”

Raj said nothing, just stared at the man with eyes that burned with indignation.

“Oh, I can see you’re angry. You feel wronged, I’m sure. Underappreciated. Undervalued. After all, you did society a favor, didn’t you? And while the scum of the earth may be cursing your name, the common folk are optimistic. But you know that optimism is hanging by a thread, don’t you? Just because won over a few peons in Port Town doesn’t mean the people believe in you. After all, you know what they say: once a royal ass, always a royal ass.”

Raj’s eyes went wide, affronted.

“But I can help you, you see. I can set you free of these false allegations. You should count your lucky stars we found you first—there are others in this kingdom who would love to see you come to serious harm. If you promise to be grateful, I will undo your gags.”

Raj looked at me. I nodded, and then he nodded to the man, who promptly untied the tight bindings around both our mouths.

“Putrid swine,” Raj said immediately. “How dare you? Do what you will with me, but leave her out of this!”

“That doesn’t sound like gratitude to me,” said the Bookkeeper. “You’re the one who brought her down to your debased level by bringing her here. Any harm that befalls her is a direct result of your misguided actions.”

Raj jerked erratically against his bonds. “If you so much as harm a hair on her head, I swear on my mother’s grave—”

“If you want her to stay alive, you had better do exactly as I say, then,” the Bookkeeper snapped.

Raj stopped struggling and went stone-faced. I resisted the urge to launch threats at the Bookkeeper in my parents’ names, but the fact was, I had no power here. None at all. And the worst of it was, our captor knew it.

“In just a few moments, a carriage will arrive. You will be gagged and blindfolded, and you will not make any misguided efforts to run or call for help. If you do, she will pay for it.” He nodded coldly toward me. I fought to keep my face unaffected.

“Where does this carriage take us?” Raj asked dryly.

“That’s for you to find out,” he replied. “But I promise you will like it better than here.”

“Somehow I doubt that highly.”

“Doubt all you want, little prince,” said the Bookkeeper with a wicked grin. “It does not change your itinerary.”

* * *

The Bookkeeper left us in that room after that, ungagged but tied to the chairs with his henchman posted outside the door. We were silent for a long time, both separately processing all that had just happened.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” Raj finally said, head hung over in shame. “This is all my fault.”

“No, don’t…” I shook my head. “Don’t do that to yourself. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Where were you?” he asked.

“I sort of got… caught up with school.”

“School?” He snorted. “You don’t need school.”

“It was silly, I know,” I said. “But it was also somehow… pleasant. And the teacher, he genuinely cared about those boys. He figured out I was a girl pretty quickly, though. I didn’t tell him anything, but I didn’t get the sense that he would rat us out.”

“Now I almost wish he had,” said Raj, forlorn. “Then someone would know where we were last seen.”

“I’m sure Sakaki and the rest of the royal guard are combing the kingdom looking for us,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll be rescued. Berated, possibly forbidden from ever leaving the palace again, but we will be found, Raj. I promise.”

“He was right, you know,” he said. “That Bookkeeper. I did drag you down to my level. You’re so pure and innocent, and you don’t deserve—”

“Let me stop you right there,” I said. “You did not drag me anywhere. Raj, I’ve lived my entire life forcing myself to fit a mold I had no part in casting. I am pure and innocent only because I am required to be. But being here, with you, even with all the danger and the peril, I feel… honored, somehow. I certainly do not feel disgraced or ruined. If that were the case, I never would have come with you in the first place.”

“You mean it?” he said, eyes wide.

“Truly. Now, do I necessarily enjoy getting into fights or being held hostage? No. Of course not. But at least those experiences are real. At least I actually get to see the things I’ve spent my whole life sheltered from. It definitely gives one a sense of perspective.”

“I’ve never done this before, by the way,” said Raj. “‘Slum it with the poor,’ as that criminal said. When I went out into the public eye, I always made a show of it. I cleared out restaurants or theaters, I rented extravagant private rooms. I did whatever I could to separate myself from everyone else. I never deigned to walk among them. I never cared about seeing things through their eyes.”

“Why would you?” I said with a smirk. “You’re a prince.”

“I’m a fool,” he said. “Maybe everyone was better off when I was a royal ass. At least people were clear on where they stood with me. I was easy to hate.”

“Don’t let that criminal get inside your head,” I said. “No matter what happens today, I won’t let you lose your hard-earned respect. These scoundrels will be brought to justice. Everyone will see the sabotage for what it is, just like at Port Town.”

“So optimistic,” he said with a smirk. “You’re like my anchor stone, Charlie. Without you, I’d be lost at sea.”

I flushed and looked down. “I’m not optimistic, I’m incorrigible. There’s a difference.”

“Well, whatever you are, I’m grateful for it.”

A moment of warm silence passed between us, the sort of moment that could have held something special had we not been tied to rickety chairs in a dilapidated building.

It was nothing but regular silence until the Bookkeeper returned a few moments later and said with an unnerving amount of jubilance, “I hope you are ready, Your Highnesses. Your chariot awaits.”

Chapter Text

The Bookkeeper and his black-clad assistant promptly rebound our hands, covered our heads with stale-smelling sacks, and led us out of the musty building. The evening air was pleasant, even in the alleyway—a slight breeze refreshed my dry lungs and gave me hope that maybe we’d be rescued after all.

That hope smoldered a bit when they shoved us into a carriage and drove us through City Royale.

A short time later, the carriage stopped and we were jostled out. This part of town smelt far worse than where we were before—like sewage or rotting food. We entered a building that smelled marginally better and only then were the hoods removed. We stood in a small foyer with a staircase that descended down into a pit of muffled conversations—some sort of underground social club, perhaps. Criminal in nature, of that I was certain. As we reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the wide, courtyard-like space with a ceiling nearly as high as that of the palace ballroom, my assumptions were confirmed.

Men and women, some dressed plainly, others in fine apparel, sat clustered at tables or at the long bar in the back, gambling and drinking. On the far-left side was a stage that currently featured a band playing jaunty dance music. High above us, on suspended rings and bars, lithe women in glittering leotards performed daring trapeze acts to the scattered applause of the captive audience down below. I couldn’t quite process the whole of what I saw; it occupied some fantastical place between grandiose and gritty.

The Bookkeeper whistled loudly. The band ceased and the entire room turned to look at us with expressions of either flabbergasted shock or mischievous hunger. “Ladies and gents, I would like to present this evening’s guest of honor: our very own Prince Raj Shenezade!”

The room erupted into applause and obnoxious catcalls. They didn’t sound surprised. They’d been expecting him.

A tall, blonde woman in a lavish, yellow and purple dress emerged from the crowd with a satisfied smile on her sharp-angled but beautiful face. She wore deep purple lipstick and her golden hair was done up in the latest fashion, with a golden feather pinned to the back. She looked elegant, but dangerous—like a jeweled knife.

“Well done, Bookie,” she said in a smooth, alto voice. “When you deliver, you deliver! Just look at these two! Absolutely stunning!”

Now I felt a bit like a showhorse.

She trained her kohl-lined, blue eyes on Raj and grinned. “Your Highness,” she said, sweeping into a curtsey. “How gracious of you to join us. I am Madame Simca, and this is my establishment, The Palace.”

“Charmed,” Raj said, sounding the furthest thing from it. “Let’s just get this over with, then. Throw tomatoes at me or whatever it is you lowlifes want to do.”

A round of laughter arose from those close enough to hear him and rippled around the room.

The woman laughed, too. “Oh, my dear boy. Did you not hear your escort? You are the guest of honor today.” She looked him up and down. “But this won’t do for your reception. Come. We’ll get you cleaned up and in proper attire.”

Raj and I shared a look of wary confusion as we were ushered across the back of the club and through a side corridor with wooden doors on either side. She gestured to the first one on the right. “You will find all you require in there.”

“The princess, too?” Raj asked warily. “Does she not get a private room?”

Truth be told, I didn’t want a private room. I didn’t want to let Raj out of my sight again.

Madame Simca only smiled sympathetically. “I apologize that we weren’t prepared for a plus one. There is a partition if you need privacy. I will have one of my girls bring you both some proper attire.” She looked me up and down. “You can leave your soiled clothes in the basket by the door. They’ll go straight into the furnace. I imagine they will not be missed.”

“Not remotely,” I said as our strange hostess unlocked the door and motioned for us to enter.

“I will return in two hours to collect you. Chin up, Your Highness. This is all for you.” With a warm smile, she shut the door.

It did not escape my notice that she locked it.

“What the devil?” Raj said, more to himself than to me. “What is this about? First they ridicule me, then they humiliate me, and now they want to throw me a party?”

“The Bookkeeper did say there were other groups in this kingdom who wished you harm,” I noted. “Perhaps this group is more sympathetic.”

“Perhaps,” said Raj, looking around the room. It had all the trappings of a dressing room, with a vanity, a pair of cushioned chairs, a woven rug, and a wardrobe. In the back corner, however, was something we both noticed immediately: a claw-foot tub filled with water so hot tendrils of steam twisted into the air like a supplication. A curtain rod had been hung in front of it, separating the back quarter of the room. That must be the “partition” Madame Simca had so graciously mentioned.

“You first,” Raj said, practically drooling over the sight.

“No, you’re the injured one. Your muscles need it more.”

“If you insist…” He ambled forward as if under a spell, then stopped as if it had suddenly broken. “No! I won’t be selfish. Charlie, you get in there before I strip you down and throw you in myself.”

The blush that rose to my cheeks was palpable, and the thought of him stripping me down was far less offensive to me than it should have been. That managed to neutralize any further protests.

“Fine,” I mumbled and moved to the back of the room, pulling the curtain closed and trying not to think about how thin it was as I peeled off my filthy street clothes and lowered myself into the tub.

The moan that escaped my lungs as soon as the hot water hit me was deeply involuntary, and I determined to stay there for as little time as possible so Raj could enjoy it, too. I set to work scrubbing the dirt away from my skin, wondering when was the last time—if at all—that I had bathed myself.

It wasn’t until I got out and wrapped myself in one of the towels that sat on the table next to the tub that I realized I was stuck this way until Simca’s maidservant arrived. “Oh, bollocks.”
“What?” Raj sounded on edge. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’m just in a towel is all.” An indecently short towel, at that. More of a hand towel, really.

“Oh. I still won’t look.”

I drew back the curtain, but I hadn’t given him a proper warning. He stared at me in shock before turning red as a tomato and clamping his hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry!”

I chuckled—how was he more modest than I was right now? “Just get in the bath before it gets cold, will you?”

He shuffled past me, yanked the curtain closed, and set to undressing. When I realized that the curtain was, indeed, thin enough that I could see his silhouette, I made myself turn around and busied myself with drying off. It wasn’t until I heard the splash of water and his own contented sigh that I relaxed.

“You didn’t have to cut your bath so short, you know,” he said. “I would have survived.”

“Consider it an act of gratitude,” I said with as much levity as I could muster. “You showed remarkable restraint under immense temptation.”

“Don’t speak so soon,” he mumbled under his breath. Whether I was meant to have heard or not, I pretended I hadn’t.

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door then, and when I opened it, a girl my age dressed in a barmaid’s uniform handed me a wrapped parcel and said, “From the Madame. I’m to gather your old ones?”

“Oh. Yes. They’re—” I had left mine discarded on the floor next to the tub like the proper princess I was, as had Raj, I presumed.

“Behind the curtain? I can get them,” said the barmaid.

She stepped into the room, but something like instinct caused me to block her path. “No! His Highness is—I’ll get them.” Clutching the front of my towel like a talisman, I walked purposefully to the curtain and cleared my throat. “I need to—”

“Go on,” Raj said, sounding unaffected.

I scowled and ducked down to lift the curtain from the bottom in an attempt to gather the clothing without fully going in. It was too far to reach. I practically had to crawl inside to scoop it all up, and then in a temporary lapse of focus, I looked up and saw that Raj was peering at me from over the edge of the tub, an amused, impish grin on his face.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Oh, do shut up,” I said, smiling all the while. “Where’s your sense of propriety from a moment ago?”

“It evaporated as soon as it touched the bathwater.”

“Perhaps I should have stayed in longer.”

“Perhaps we should have shared.”

“Raj!” Now I was the one who was tomato red.

“I’m sorry. That was too far.” He slinked back over the edge of the tub as if to submerge his shame.

“You are impossible,” I said, finally collecting all the clothes and shuffling toward the curtain.

A warm, water-drenched hand reached out and caught my arm. I froze. “I didn’t mean to insult your honor, Charlie.” He looked frightened. He thought I was angry. Perhaps I should have been, but remarkably, I wasn’t.

I was… flustered.

“You didn’t,” I said. It was all I could manage.

He let me go, a mild look of disbelief on his face as I ducked back under the curtain and stalked across to the room to the waiting barmaid, who must have overheard every word we said. She certainly smirked like she had. I handed her the dirty clothes as nondescriptly as possible.

“Be safe, you two,” she said with a wink and left the room, locking the door behind her.

I stiffened. What was that all about?

To distract myself, I unwrapped the parcel and worked on getting dressed. However, as soon as I laid out tonight’s attire across the chairs—mine and Raj’s were both included in the bundle—a lead ball dropped in my stomach. I felt sick. Suddenly, everything about the strange reception made sense. I mentally cursed myself for letting that girl take our clothes before I could see what we’d been left with. Now we had two choices: wear what we’d been given or nothing at all.

“Oh, that’s just brilliant,” I said.

“What now?” Raj said.

“Nothing. Just enjoy your bath.” And your ignorant bliss.

Unfortunately, he was not deterred. I heard splashes as he exited the tub and a moment later, he drew the curtain back, wrapped in a towel. I didn’t have the mental energy to be embarrassed or even flustered—other than to feel a pang of sympathy when I saw how black and blue his lower ribs were—because I was too fixated on the reality of where we were and what we were doing there.

He walked over to where I stood and, upon seeing tonight’s attire, put a hand to his face. “Oh.”

They were theatrical costumes—the kind you would see in a vaudeville act or farce. The first, evidently meant for Raj, was a gaudy, striped clown costume complete with a jester’s cap encircled with a crown. During a Tanbarunian Carnival, this was widely recognized as the “King of Fools” costume. Festival goers were invited to jeer at, cajole, and—often—throw things at the wearer.
No royal in their right mind would don such a costume, not even for a masquerade. It was asking for ridicule.

The second costume was that of a harlot—or the dramatic, on-stage version of a harlot, at any rate: girls in baggy pants or loose skirts with scant coverage of the chest and a sheer veil draped over their heads. What actual harlots in Tanbarun wore, who could say? I had probably passed several on the street in City Royale last night and hadn’t noticed. The man at The Orange Blossom had assumed as much about me when I was in men’s clothes, hadn’t he?

All the same, an audience like this one would recognize such a get-up. Most of all, they would recognize the bright red wig that accompanied it. I didn’t have to try very hard to guess what that might be representative of.

Raj wasn’t tonight’s honored guest. He was tonight’s featured entertainment. And the production in question would showcase all the stupid mistakes he’d been trying so hard to leave behind.
After a long, tense moment, Raj said, “I’d have preferred the tomatoes.”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “What are we going to do?”

“I can’t let you wear that,” he said, gesturing to the harlot costume.

“And I can’t let you wear that,” I said, gesturing to the clown costume.

Raj’s expression turned lethal. “So why don’t we beat them at their own game?”

I gave him a puzzled look. “How?”

“Switch costumes.”

“What? No! You’ll be even more of a laughing stock!”

“Everyone already knows I’m a whore,” he said with a half-cocked smile. “But no one will believe you’re a fool. Trust me, it’s better this way. At least if people laugh, it will be for the reasons we dictate.”

I stared at him in open-mouthed shock. “You cannot be serious.”

“I told you I wouldn’t insult your honor. At least the clown costume offers coverage.”

I gripped the towel even tighter. I couldn’t really let him do this, could I? But it really was a lose-lose situation for him. If he walked out of here dressed as the King of Fools, they’d laugh him into his grave. But if he walked out of here dressed like a harlot… they’d think he was a lunatic.

“Charlie,” said Raj. “Please, don’t fight me on this. Don’t worry about what this will do to my name. I won’t let yours be dragged through the mud, too.”

It was noble, but I wished there was another option, one that let him keep his dignity. In the end, I decided I had to trust him. I donned the clown costume with its billowing sleeves and pant legs, and Raj played the harlot.

“Don’t I look pretty?” he joked, but it was hard to find it amusing when his torso was so bruised and he looked so tired and defeated.

Twenty minutes later, another knock signaled the arrival of a server with a tray full of food—flatbread, cheese, fresh fruit, meat on a kebab, herb and bean salad. Water and wine. We ate and drank every last bit of it without question. At least they wanted us good and fed before they paraded us out like circus animals.

“Charlie, if you see a chance to run, I want you to run,” Raj said to me after we’d sat for a bit, mutually comatose from eating so quickly. “Don’t look back. Don’t wait for me. Just… run.”

“No,” I said, sitting up. “No, I won’t leave you. I don’t think I’d get very far in this get-up anyway.” I plucked at the gold-and-black checkered front. “I stick out like a flag in the wind.”

“Fair point.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I did to inspire such loyalty in you. You should be furious with me.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then consider it your punishment that I’m not furious with you. You must resign yourself to my longsuffering. That is your curse.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then narrowed his eyes at me. “Diabolical.”

The door opening had us both on our feet. This time, it was Madame Simca, and she looked at us at first with shock, then with wry amusement. “Well, I know your attire didn’t come with instructions, but I had assumed you’d be smart enough to know whose was whose.”

“Never mind that,” Raj said, waving her away like a bothersome fly. “You wanted us ready, and we’re ready. The intent is clear enough—why does it matter how it’s enacted?”

Madame Simca smirked. “Well spoken, little prince. Come with me. It’s time to make your debut.”

I glanced sidelong at Raj, who had schooled his expression into a mask of steel. It was a rare sight to see that look of his—that flinty determination to stay completely calm under pressure, no matter how against his nature it was. I’d only seen him truly achieve it once, at his mother’s funeral. I could only assume he’d achieved it when he’d hunted down those pirates. And here it was now, in this ridiculous hole in the wall, as he was about to face such utterly debased humiliation. In a moment of impulse, I reached out and took his hand. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand back.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he said as we followed Madame Simca back into the club. “You’re far too pretty to pass for a clown.”

Chapter Text

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you your prince and future king, Raj Shenezade!” A broken fanfare played and the curtains drew back, revealing Raj, who had been directed to stand centerstage. I was in the wings, held fast by one of Madame Simca’s bodyguards lest I try to run.

The audience erupted in mocking applause, hearty laughter, and shameless catcalls.

“Hey, Princess, sing us a song!” someone shouted.

“No, dance for us!” another said.

“Don’t he play the fiddle?”

“Play us a song!”

Raj was dumbstruck by the crowd and their barrage of requests. He still had terrible stage fright; the Port Town merchants were a notable exception. I doubted this situation would inspire the same level of boldness, though part of me hoped so for his sake.

Simca, standing at the top of stage left, wagged a finger at the crowd. “Now, now, we’re not taking audience requests today. We have a real production to put on, after all.” She snapped her fingers, and the band, seated in the pit, began to play a carnivalesque tune. A troupe of dancers entered from the wings, dressed in outfits that more closely resembled Raj’s than mine. The bodyguard released me then and one of the dancers towed me out onto the stage with them. The audience found that hilarious, and it was all I could do not to grab Raj and bolt.

“Tonight, we have a fun little casting change,” said Simca. “The role of Prince Raj will be played by his lovely companion, Princess Charlamaine, while the role of Shirayuki will be played by the real Raj.”

One of the dancers stuck the red wig on Raj’s head, which he’d conveniently forgotten back in the dressing room. The audience laughed in anticipation, but inside, I was fuming with rage. The dancers then moved Raj to the side and planted me center stage, surrounding me like a chorus.

Just how far in advance did they plan this?

Raj looked horrified. He’d been hoping to spare me the attention, but we’d played right into Simca’s hand anyway—surely, it was just as humiliating for him to watch me be jostled around, though I felt nothing but pure, righteous anger.

Simca began the narration: “Once upon a time, there was a spoiled, foolish prince who could have anything he wanted. Food, wine, merriment, women: all were at his fingertips.”

The dancers circled me, pretending to fawn, and that’s when it all clicked into place: this wasn’t some haphazard exhibition they’d thrown together at Raj’s expense: this was a planned production. They probably put this show on every other night with other actors playing the main roles. Getting the real Raj and a princess to play the parts? It was like the pièce de résistance.

“But one day, he heard tell of a beautiful commoner girl with rare, apple-red hair, and he decided he must have her for himself as his concubine.”

One of the dancers pulled Raj from where he stood, his eyes shooting daggers at the crowd, and tossed him into the circle. He collided with me so hard I had to catch him, something the audience found unendingly hilarious.

“But she was as stubborn as she was beautiful, and ran away to escape his filthy clutches.”

Queued by the dancers, Raj reluctantly sauntered toward the stage left exit, throwing me a desperate look over his shoulder before he disappeared into the darkness.

“The prince searched high and low for his conquest, and when he found her, he sent a basket of poisoned apples to her hideaway with the intention of subduing her.”

One of the dancers passed me a basket of apples that looked so overripe they could be poisoned and signaled for me to pass it along. Absently, I wondered whether these girls—none of which were much older than I was—weren’t as trapped here as we were.

I was too livid to nurse my sympathies, however. I passed the basket to the next dancer, who ran off-stage with it, exiting the same way Raj had.

“But, little did the prince know, the girl had made an unlikely ally: Prince Zen of the neighboring kingdom of Clarines, who also took a shine to her and vowed to protect her from the nefarious aims of her crown prince.”

After a moment’s pause in which nothing happened, Simca glanced toward the wing where Raj was supposed to be. Apparently, someone was supposed to enter stage left: likely Raj with an actor playing Prince Zen. Glancing toward the entrance, I saw no one.

Madame Simca cleared her throat. “I said Prince Zen of the neighboring kingdom of Clarines vowed to protect her.”

Finally, a tall, silver-haired young man emerged. His costume was impressively regal—royal blue with gold filigree, likely stolen from the coffer of a noble—and the sword he carried looked awfully sharp for a dummy sword.

“Let me finish the story for you,” the young man said, striding toward the front of the stage. “I show up, kick everyone’s ass, and then later on, Raj cleans up his act and kicks everyone’s ass, and now he’s one of our trusted allies and closest friends.”

Madame Simca looked more than confused. She looked… terror-struck.

The young man hefted the sword across his shoulder and swept his free hand toward the audience in a dramatic flourish. “The end.” He took a bow.

Wait a second, I thought, my addled brain finally catching up with me. That’s no actor.

At that moment, a dozen palace guards poured onto the stage, and the entire club was on their feet—not with applause, but with panic.

Chapter Text

Everything happened so fast it was all I could do to keep my head on straight as a dozen royal guards stormed across the stage and into the crowd, led by Prince Zen—the real Prince Zen, of that I was now positive.

The goal appeared to be arrest, but the occupants of the club scattered to the four winds, disappearing through side doors and secret exits. Only a select group of particularly intrepid souls dared to fight back against the royal guard, clashing in the center of the club with weapons drawn, and in the center of it all, the Second Prince of Clarines.

For a long moment, all I could do was watch. Then a voice behind me called, “Princess Charlamaine!”

I turned to see a young man with short black hair and cat-like eyes leaning out of the wing, gesturing to me. One of Zen’s, I assumed, but I didn’t start walking toward him until I saw Raj leaning out too, looking somewhat stricken. Once I reached them, the cat-eyed boy took me by the arm and pulled me backstage without a word.

“This way,” he said, leading us toward the back and through a service corridor that stretched behind the stage.

We didn’t delay, though it took some focus to keep up with the boy’s breakneck pace.

“Are you all right?” Raj asked, taking me by the arm.

“I’m fine,” I said, bewildered. “Still a bit shocked, but otherwise fine.”

“You did say we’d be rescued,” he said with a look of satisfaction. “Turns out you were right.”

We reached the end of the corridor, which emptied out into a courtyard with several wide alleyways branching out in different directions. A carriage sat waiting for us on one side. No sooner had we started toward it than the passenger door opened and out flew a girl in a blue, hooded cloak.

“Raj!” she exclaimed. The hood of the cloak fell as she ran toward us, revealing shoulder-length hair as red as rubies.

Instantly, I knew exactly who she was.

She stopped in front of us and threw her arms around Raj’s neck, careful not to crush his bruised ribs. It was a thoughtful embrace, and yet so devoid of propriety I had to bite my tongue to keep from protesting. So this was Shirayuki. Friend of the Crown. Fiancée of Prince Zen. Raj’s conscience. And apparently, on such familiar terms with him that she could embrace him at will.

Don’t start with this nonsense, I told myself. You don’t know this girl.

She pulled back and surveyed him, her green eyes sharp with scrutiny. Green eyes. Like an emerald. Not potato-brown.

Stop it, Charlie.

“That’s quite a look you’ve got going on,” she said to Raj, her tone light. “Somehow, you make it work.”

“Nice to see you, too, Shirayuki,” he replied. “And when did you and Zen get into town?”

“Just this morning. Imagine our surprise when we found the whole palace in an uproar. Apparently, the prince and princess had gone missing in the night? You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Not a clue,” said Raj. “Surely, it was all the prince’s idea, and rightly so: he’s a total imbecile.”

Shirayuki gave him a consoling look, her hands going gingerly to his battered face. It made my skin crawl, even if it was purely out of friendly concern. “God, we were so worried about you,” she said. “Just look at your face. What happened to you?”

“It’s of no consequence,” said Raj with a wave. “I was foolish and I paid for it.”

“He defended me,” I said, drawing the attention of the red-haired girl. “Last night, we were at a tavern, and some men, they insulted me. He got into a fight with them.”

“Raj, in a bar fight?” The cat-eyed boy laughed. “I would’ve loved to see that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would have, Obi. Especially when it’s so very obvious that I got my ass handed to me,” Raj said pointedly. “If Charlie hadn’t been there, I would probably be lying in a gutter right now.”

I supposed I should have been flattered, but the way Shirayuki smiled at me made me want to crawl into a hole. “You must be Princess Charlamaine,” she said. “Raj has told me so much about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Though I’m sure these aren’t the most ideal of circumstances, I’m still glad I’m here!”

Raj talked about me to her. What did he tell her?

“Yes, well, ehm…” Completely caught off-guard, I couldn’t even remember the proper pleasantries. Standing before me was the one person to whom I’d intended to give a strong first impression, and here I was, in a clown costume, fished from a seedy club after watching my dearest friend be ridiculed to pieces. Truly, a new all-time low, far lower than any princess should ever dare fall. And the look Shirayuki gave me wasn’t pity or disappointment, but true concern. How did one conduct themselves, given all that?

A proper princess would have been able to recover, I’m sure. To say the right thing and somehow come out of this dignified. But I was too tired and overwhelmed, too broken down and full of shame to summon my dignity. What I wanted was to cry, and it took all my willpower not to do so in front of God and Shirayuki.

Raj placed a hand on my arm, startling me out of my melancholy. His eyes met mine, and despite how battered and bruised he was, how mentally and physically shaken up he had to be, he didn’t look broken. Why was I the one wallowing in misery when he was the one who’d had to suffer most tonight?

“Charlie,” he said. “Go with Shirayuki. Let her take you home.”

“I want to stay with you,” I said. How pathetic of me.

“Please, Charlie? I need to fix this. This is my mess, not yours.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you should go home, too,” said Obi. “You look like you need a doctor.”

“I feel fine,” he said.

“I don’t know if you know this, but you’re dressed like a harlot,” said Obi. “A mistreated harlot.”

“I know what I’m dressed like!” Raj exclaimed, ripping the costume’s top off of himself in an angry flourish.

Obi, evidently unconcerned with delicacy, folded his arms across his chest and continued to chastise him.

Shirayuki glanced at me. “That was supposed to be his costume, wasn’t it?”

I sighed as I plucked at the gaudy jester’s outfit. “Yes. And vice versa.”

“That was very brave of you.”

I scoffed, caught between feeling patronized and feeling validated.

“Will you convince him to go home?” she asked. “Something tells me he’ll listen to you.”

I sighed heavily, trying not to let show how flattered I was by the admission. Raj was currently in a heated debate with the forthright attendant about whether or not his ribs were broken.

“Raj,” I said firmly. “I think it’s time for us to leave.”

He stopped his tirade and observed me carefully, noting the urgency in my expression. His shoulders drooped as if he’d been drained of all remaining energy. “Very well,” he said. “You’re right. It’s not like there’s anything I can affect here, anyway.”

Then, Sakaki entered the courtyard with an expression so intense even I wanted to cower. I looked at Raj, who pulled his shoulders back as far as he could and said, “Now, listen, Sakaki, I know what you’re going to say, and before you do, I just want you to know—”

Sakaki didn’t falter, not until he reached Raj—who braced himself as if his aide would actually strike him—and fell prostrate on the ground before him.

Raj looked more scandalized than relieved. “Why in God’s name are you bowing? Shouldn’t you be yelling at me? It’s the least of what I deserve!”

Sakaki rose and put his hands on Raj’s shoulders. “Trust me, the king assured me that he’d be doing plenty of that when you speak with him next.”

Raj wilted. Getting reprimanded by his father was definitely among his greatest fears. “So he knows.”

“His son and heir went missing under our noses. Of course he knows. And he’s furious.”

“I see.”

“But for the moment, I’m just happy that you’re all right. I’m deeply sorry it took me this long to find you. I feel as if I’ve failed you.”

Raj chuckled uneasily. “Your concern is touching, Sakaki. But you didn’t fail me. If anything, I failed you.”

“Why did you leave the palace?” The aide glanced from him to me. “And why did the princess go with you?”

“We… ehm, that is… you see…”

“I wanted to see City Royale,” I butted in. “I was feeling a bit… caged in by all the royal duties and I asked Raj for some fresh air. He simply obliged. We weren’t supposed to be out for more than an hour or two, but things went terribly wrong. Please, make sure the king knows that. I was at fault.”

“Charlie,” Raj snapped. “Sakaki, don’t listen to her. The fault was entirely my own. I insisted. She wouldn’t have known how to get out of the palace without me!”

Sakaki sighed as if this conversation alone had aged him. “I don’t care whose fault it was originally. Raj is responsible. You’re a guest in his palace, a visitor in his kingdom. He will answer for this, not you, Your Highness.”

Well, it was worth a try I supposed. But if I could somehow lessen Raj’s punishment, I would.

“See? Ha,” Raj said to me, as if he’d just won a prize. By Jove, the boy took satisfaction in the most unusual things.

“Both of you, go with Lady Shirayuki in the carriage,” Sakaki ordered. “We’ll take it from here.”

With no strength left to argue, we acquiesced. Thankfully, there were blankets inside the carriage that we wrapped ourselves in, and then we were off, heading away from City Royale and its manifold dangers.

Raj and I sat shoulder to shoulder on one bench while Shirayuki sat on the other. Without a word, she produced a rolled leather pack from beneath the seat and unraveled it across her lap. Inside was a myriad of vials, capsules, and other first aid supplies, all secured with ties and pockets to the leather roll.

Of course, I’d nearly forgotten. Shirayuki was a court herbalist. A healer.

“All right,” she said with marked determination, her sharp eyes scanning our faces. “Which of you is the most injured?”

Spellbound, I pointed immediately to Raj, who didn’t even argue.

“Thought so,” she said. “You look like a bruised peach, Raj.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly.

She got to work cleaning him up and applying a series of salves and tinctures to his battered face. Then, she had him open up the cloak so she could treat his bruised ribs, and lastly, she gave him an herbal chew to help with muscle soreness.

It was a thorough and deeply compassionate treatment that made the embers of envy grow red hot. How I wished I was skilled and useful enough to show such detailed care for Raj. I wanted to be the one to nurse him back to health. A wholly selfish desire, and not one a princess would normally covet for herself, but if I’d learned anything about myself tonight, it was how truly incapable of protecting him I was.

How truly incapable of dealing with any of the hard facts of life I was.

Her primary patient now treated, Shirayuki turned her attention to me. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“She lies,” said Raj. “She endured a serious gut punch yesterday. She’s probably just as black and blue as I am.”

Shirayuki looked me up and down and declared, “We’ll wait until we’re back at the palace.”

Much as I appreciated her discretion, I answered, “My attendant can care for my injuries. Thank you, though.”

Shirayuki nodded in understanding and gave me the same herbal chew for my muscles. “I’ll make up some more salve once we’re back,” she said. “You’ll want to continue applying it to your bruises. Especially that eye, Raj.”

Raj nodded, already half-asleep. He had to be exhausted. I was exhausted.

“Thank you,” I managed, my decorum finally gaining a second wind. Despite what I may think of Shirayuki, I could not deny how helpful she was or how grateful we were that she and Zen had aided with our rescue. It was nice to have allies.

“Of course, Your Highness,” she said.

I could already feel my eyelids growing heavy, two anchors pulling me down into the depths of the sea. Raj went down before I did and, without intending to, he leaned against me, his head coming to rest on my shoulder. My heart rate spiked as I looked down at him and felt… genuine affection. Warm, familiar, and welcome. I leaned against him in turn, resting my head against his.

For once, I did not care how it looked or how proper it was. All I cared about at that moment was the heat of his body against mine, the rise and fall of his breathing, and the sweet relief of sleep that washed over me like a tidal wave.

Chapter Text

The next twenty-four hours were that of complete rehabilitation—I bathed, ate, and slept as I had never done before. It was the evening of the following day when I finally woke and felt recuperated enough to leave my room. My immediate impulse was to seek out Raj.

“He’s in his chambers, resting,” Karina told me. “I’m told that Lady Shirayuki worked on him and that he then spent several hours at the royal spa.”

“Please, let me see how he’s doing,” I said. “What happened to him was my fault.”

Reluctantly, Karina let me go so I could visit the prince’s room. I was surprised to find Rona and Eugena standing outside, their nosy little ears pressed to the door.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“Charlamaine! You look great!” Rona said, ignoring my inquiry.

“What are you listening to? Is Raj talking to someone?”

“Yes, to Father,” Eugena answered.

I went rigid. “So soon?”

“It’s been a whole day,” Eugena pointed out. “Father had to speak with him eventually.”

“And you’re trying to figure out just how thoroughly he’s being slaughtered in there, is that it?” I said pointedly.

“Father hasn’t raised his voice,” Rona said. “It’s difficult to tell.”

I wrung my hands, anxious. Sakaki had said the king was furious. Why wasn’t he yelling? “I should be in there, too,” I said. “I’m just as much at fault. I should be beside him!” I moved them aside to turn the handle.

“I wouldn’t—” Rona started, but I didn’t listen. I entered the room without an invitation and shut the door behind me.
Raj sat on one of the couches in the drawing room, looking much improved but still undeniably run down. The king stood over him, his posture stiff and agitated. Both father and son looked at me as I entered.

“Charlie,” Raj said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“You will forgive my bold intrusion, but I’m here to see about Raj’s health,” I said as evenly as I could.

“He will survive yet,” said the king. “Perhaps you might want to come back another time.”

I lost my composure. “Please, do not be too angry with him, Your Majesty,” I said. “I’m as much to blame for what happened as Raj is. Do not let him take the whole of the punishment upon himself. He was only protecting me.”

“It’s very noble of you to bear responsibility, Princess, but Raj must learn that the actions of a leader always have dire consequences.”

“It’s all right, Charlie,” said Raj gently. “I can handle it.”

My heart almost broke looking at his bruised face. I turned to the king and said, “There is unrest in the kingdom. The criminal underground wants blood. Raj’s blood. Last night was only a demonstration. A mockery.”

“Charlie,” Raj warned.

“Your son is brave, and he is trying his best,” I went on. “The people need to respect him. They need your endorsement of him. Raj needs your endorsement of him.”

The king eyed me carefully, his dark green eyes that were so much like his son’s narrowing slightly. I worried suddenly that I had crossed a line, but the king only sighed. “And I would gladly give it, if Raj can prove himself worthy of it.”

Raj’s good eye widened.

“What happened yesterday cannot be allowed to happen again,” said the king. “You have to be wiser than that.”

“Yes, Father,” said Raj.

“This is the lesson I mean to teach: everything you do, good or bad, has a ripple effect. Taking out the Claw of the Sea, though ultimately a good deed, had consequences. Sneaking out for a night of fun, though on the surface a harmless thing, had consequences. Once you make the choice to be a leader, everything you do matters. Everything you do becomes political.”

“Yes, Father.”

The king took a deep breath. “For Charlamaine’s sake, I will repeat myself: I am not angry that you snuck out in the first place, though it does not please me. More than anything, I am disappointed in you. I am disappointed that you got cocky. You put our guest in danger. You put yourself in danger. You were not honest with yourself and therefore you were not wise. You are not ready to be a protector, Raj. You are not ready to lead.”

Raj nodded in remorse. Yes, there was nothing quite as demoralizing as the old “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” was there? “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Charlamaine, if you insist on sharing some of the blame, then I will say that I expected more prudence from a princess of your standing. You should not have let Raj talk you into such a venture. And your parents will hear of it, of that I assure you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Though I had asked for it, it did not stop it from smarting. Truth be told, I hadn’t given much thought to my parents’ reaction until he mentioned it. My father would not be too scandalized (in fact, he might even be impressed) but my mother? She might just request my immediate removal from Shenezade Castle.

At that, I examined myself. You actually want to stay? Usually, I all but counted the days until I returned home, but no, I could not deny the fact that I’d been enjoying myself. That I’d been enjoying Raj. In spite of our recent escapade—no, because of it. I wanted more time with him, time that wasn’t raked through with peril. I wanted to help him earn his father’s trust.

“I won’t be sent home, will I, Your Majesty?” I asked as matter-of-factly as I could.

“That is for your parents to decide,” he said. “But at the very least, you will be able to attend the Midsummer’s Ball. After that, you have a week to sort your affairs with Valiona.” He squinted at me. “Did you intend on extending your summer visit?”

I looked at Raj, who, in turn, looked hopeful. “Barring my parents’ refusal, then yes. That is, if you’ll have me, sir.”

The king nodded as if he’d hoped I would stay, too. “Of course, you are welcome. Now, there are a few matters of business I would like to discuss with the prince, if you would excuse us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said, retreating toward the door.

“And Charlamaine?” the king added.

I turned.

“Thank you for taking care of him.”

I nodded and left the room, feeling both reproved and vindicated. Rona and Eugena were still outside and tailed me as I headed for the staircase with every intention of losing myself in the library for an hour to two.

“That was very brave!” said Rona. “You stood up to Father to defend Raj! I’ve only seen one other person do that.”

I sighed. “I swear on all that is holy, if you say Shirayuki—”

“Sakaki,” said Rona.

I stopped and turned. “Sakaki is as loyal as they come. How he always manages to track Raj down, I’ll never know.”

“Simple: he knows him so well he can practically read his mind.”

“Would that I could,” I muttered.

Rona cocked her head. “Are you in love with him? With Raj?”

I flinched. “Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You’ve been acting different toward him lately.”

“He’s been acting different toward me.”

“Yes, because he’s obviously in love with you.”

“He is not in love with me,” I said reflexively.

“Well, why not?” Rona prodded, following me down the stairs. “Why wouldn’t he love you? You’re amazing!”

I stopped on the landing and sighed. “Thank you, Rona, that’s very kind of you to say. But if you hadn’t noticed, our relationship is still on the mend. We’ve hardly learned to be friends.”

“So you’re saying it could happen, theoretically?” she said, nearly bouncing on her heels. “In time?”

I groaned and kept walking. “Just drop it, will you, please? Our entire lives, we’ve been told that we should be together. If at all possible, I would like the choice to be our own and not anyone else’s. I don’t want someone to love me only because they were told they should.” As I said it, the confession surprised me. But it was true—it had been true ever since I’d gotten wise to our parents’ matchmaking intentions.

Good sir, she is my wife.

I bristled at the recent memory. He’d said it to protect me, so it shouldn’t have left any sort of impact on me, right? It wasn’t as if it were true. But set in sharp relief to the last time he’d acted as if we were already wed, I couldn’t help but marvel at the change in my perception of it.

The truth of it was, I’d never given much thought to being a wife. A queen, yes. But a wife? That was just a consequence of ascendency, wasn’t it? Then why had I felt like I was made of butterflies when he’d said it? Shouldn’t it have offended me for him to take such liberties? To refer to me in the possessive? How did it feel in reverse, then?

My husband.

Dash it all, it gave me the same feeling.

“Charlie? Are you listening?” Rona said, snapping me out of my strange musings.

“What? Sorry, I… was lost in thought.”

“Eugena, repeat what you just said,” Rona ordered her brother.

“I said that Raj is too stubborn to simply do what he is told,” said the quieter twin. “And so are you.”

I smiled at them both. “Thank you. Now, back into the woodwork with you two. Go eavesdrop on the maids or something else you shouldn’t be doing.”

Rona smiled and scuttled back up the stairs, more than willing to resume her mischief. Eugena threw me an apologetic smile and followed his sister.

I, in turn, completed my journey to the palace library.

Chapter Text

Perhaps it should not have come as a great surprise to find Prince Zen and Lady Shirayuki already in the library, but I confess I was a bit annoyed that they had retreated to the reading nook Raj and I preferred. They sprang apart when I turned the corner as if they’d been caught doing something untoward. Perhaps I’d interrupted an intimate moment—they were engaged, after all.

“Your Highness,” said Zen. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Sorry, I did not mean to intrude,” I said, defaulting to my diplomat voice even though they were my peers.

“Not at all!” Shirayuki exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”

“Much refreshed, thank you,” I said.

“Have you visited Raj yet?” she asked.

“I have,” I said. After a beat, I added, “He is recovering well.” I turned to Zen. “How was the rest of the raid?”

“Well, most of the scoundrels scattered to the four winds, though we did manage to catch a few for questioning. Sakaki and my aides are with them now, playing a little good knight, bad knight.” He chuckled and then remembered himself. “I’m glad to hear you and Raj are doing well.”

“Thank you for all your help,” I said. “I’m sure it wasn’t exactly the warm welcome you were expecting.”

Zen shook his head, smiling wide. “It was the best welcome I could’ve asked for.”

“Zen,” Shirayuki scolded with a light smile.

He cleared his throat. “I mean, you two being in trouble wasn’t pleasant, but—”

“You’re a man of action,” I guessed. Based on what I’d heard and what I remembered about him, this made perfect sense. “Putting on airs is suffocating to you.”

“Exactly,” Zen said, eyes wide. Then he grimaced. “Or am I that transparent?”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one who feels that way,” I said, and then instantly regretted it. It felt too informal. Was this because they’d seen me in distress, completely vulnerable? One would think I’d be even more on my guard around them as a result.

Zen smirked knowingly. Shirayuki looked pleasantly surprised by the admission, to my chagrin.

“I heard you were very brave,” she said. “Raj said so himself.”

“I don’t know about that,” I replied. “He’s determined to give me more credit than I’m due, God knows why.”

“Because you believe in him,” Shirayuki said.

I stared her down. Finally, I was facing her at my full strength, and somehow I still felt the lesser.

“I simply think Raj has worked far too hard to be so utterly debased by his own subjects," I said. "The indignities he's suffered... it's uncivil, is what it is. It's not as if crime itself can ever be fully eradicated from any kingdom, much less Tanbarun, so why must they rub it in his face? Those degenerates deserve every last bit of retribution that’s coming to them, whether by his hand or someone else’s.” I’d grown more agitated as I spoke—without meaning to, my voice had sharpened, my fists balling tight at my sides.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” said Zen, eyes wide.

“I am sorry,” I said. “But there is something very unsettling about this whole ordeal. It eats at me.”

“I agree,” he replied. After a beat, he asked, “How involved would you like to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how would you like to help us get to the bottom of this?”

“And put the criminal underground in their place? I would do whatever I could,” I said. “But what could I do?”

“To start, I think you should give your account of the events to my aides,” said Zen. “It might help us understand the bigger picture.”

“Without a doubt. Take me to them.”

“Right now?” Zen looked surprised.

“I haven’t a single thing to do that’s more important than this,” I said. “If you are not otherwise occupied, then yes.”

Zen and Shirayuki shared a smile. “Then let’s go,” he said.

***

The Clarines couple led me to a part of Shenezade Castle I had not been to in a long time: the catacombs, an underground labyrinth of tunnels and chambers that spanned practically the entire foundation of the palace. It had several purposes: defense against a raid, a shortcut for servants, storage for valuables, and occasionally, a dungeon.

Raj and I had explored it from time to time as children (even though we technically hadn’t been allowed) but it was extremely easy to get lost in its endless maze, so we’d never gone much further than the main tunnels.

However, Zen and Shirayuki seemed to know exactly where they were going. Zen led the way and Shirayuki fell in step next to me, a strange sort of anxious energy hovering between us as if she expected me to say something, or vice versa.

Eventually, she said, “You have no idea how happy Raj is that you’re here. In his letters, even back when he first found out you'd be visiting Tanbarun for the summer, he kept saying how excited he was for me to meet you.”

Evidently, she had taken it upon herself to break the silence. I flushed, not used to being spoken to so casually, especially by a commoner (titled or not). “Ehm… thank you, I think. Yes, he does seem pleased. He’s much changed since the last time I saw him.”

“I’m glad for that,” she said. “We all are.”

“How did you do it?” I blurted out. I’d been hoping to ask it in a more conspicuous way, but I could hold back no longer.

She turned her doe eyes to me, startled. “How did I do what?”

“Convince him to change. Make him see the error of his ways. He credits you with his transformation but he won’t tell me what you did. I must know. It’s killing me not to know. I spent years trying to get through to him, and…” I caught myself and pulled my tumbling thoughts back in. “I would just like to know what is it, precisely, that you said or did.”

“Oh,” said Shirayuki. “Of course. That’s a simple explanation. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you himself, but maybe he’s a little embarrassed still. When he visited Clarines last year, I told him that if he wanted me to be proud of him as my prince, he should rule in a way that was worth being proud of. In essence, don’t be a prince in name only.”

I stared, slack-jawed. “That’s it?”

“That was the last thing I said to him,” she said. “I don’t know what might’ve happened before or after. Perhaps there were other factors at play. Perhaps it was the perfect storm. I don’t know. All I do know is that when I visited Tanbarun several months later at his invitation, he was different. We talked more during that time. He said he’d taken my words to heart, but I’ll be honest: I hadn’t expected him to.”

“Then why say them?” I exclaimed.

“Because it needed to be said,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve always been one to say exactly what I feel. I was always taught that there’s nothing more healing than the truth, even if it is the most bitter pill to swallow.” She looked down and smiled. “Whether the medicine actually works is more dependent on the recipient than anything else. But it’s still my responsibility to offer it up, regardless of how it’s received.”

I stared at her, flabbergasted. “The rules just don’t apply to you, do they?”

“Of course they do,” she said, shocked. “Unless the rules are wrong.”

I guffawed in response. “Yes, well, would that we all were special enough to decide when and where the rules didn’t suit our tastes. Wouldn’t that be a dream.”

“I’m not special,” she said simply. “People tell me my hair is special, but it’s done nothing but draw unwanted attention. People also tell me I’m special because I’m friends with princes, but those princes had to choose to be friends with me, too.”

“What are you getting at?” I said, a bit testier than I had intended.

“We all make choices,” she said. “We can’t always control what life throws at us, but we can control what we do with it. All I’ve done that may be different from anyone else is to choose to be true to myself, no matter what. How others react to it is their business.”

I was beside myself. Everything I’d heard about this girl was true. She was as bold as she was meek. My pride resisted, but my heart knew she was right.

“Raj respects you,” I said to her. “I’ve never seen him hold a peer in such high esteem before.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, Your Highness,” she replied. “He respects you, too. He thinks very highly of you, in fact. I can see it in his eyes. He cares very much what you think of him and his friends. I think that’s why he wanted us to meet so badly.”

“I gather that,” I said, and then added, “And I am pleased to meet you, I hope you know. Even if I am… admittedly… a bit envious of your relationship with Raj. How open and honest you’re able to be with him.”

“I don’t think you have any cause to be envious, Your Highness,” she said. “I think you and Raj have something he and I never will: you understand him on a personal level. You’re true equals. And I think that if you were true to yourself, you’d find that you could be just as honest with him as I am, if not more.”

I was spellbound, once again, by Shirayuki’s forthrightness. It really was impossible to hate this girl. And I wanted to believe her, even if I wasn’t sure what being true to myself looked like, exactly. Wasn’t I true enough for a princess? I didn’t have the luxury of independence, not like she did. Maybe one day, if she married Prince Zen like everyone seemed to assume, she would understand.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I managed. “For his sake, I hope you’re right.”

True equals.

Throughout this unexpectedly candid conversation, we had been following Zen, who had led us down a corridor where several metal doors had been set into the solid stone walls.

“We’re here,” he said, stopping in front of a door on the right. “Are you ready to see behind the curtain, Princess?”

I swallowed any remaining trepidation I had left. “Yes,” I said. “I am.”

Chapter Text

“We’re holding the prisoners in there,” Zen explained, pointing to the rightmost door. “And this is the interrogation room.” He opened the door directly to its left. Inside, there was a simple wooden table with two chairs, one on either side. Three people occupied the room: Sakaki, of course, and the two aides Zen had mentioned: a young man and young woman, the former with blue hair shorn on the sides and the latter with long, blonde hair pulled back. They all stood and bowed as we entered.

“Got your next victim,” Zen teased, motioning to me.

“What’s the princess doing down here?” Sakaki asked with palpable concern.

“I volunteered,” I said. “I want to help.”

“I’m not sure—”

“She just wants to give her account,” said Zen. “It might help us see something we missed.”

Sakaki sighed and acquiesced. Zen introduced me to his aides, Mitsuhide and Kiki, the latter of whom invited me to sit in one of the chairs while she took the other.

“Tell me exactly what happened from your perspective,” she said. “Everything you can remember—no detail is too unimportant.”

I recounted everything I could, from the dance in the city square, to the scuffle at the bar, to the night spent at the boys’ home, to the kidnapping the following morning. I left nothing out, even the embarrassing bits: Raj claiming we were married, my diversion in the schoolhouse, Raj and I becoming the night’s entertainment for an underground social club—everything. As I spoke, Kiki listened and Mitsuhide wrote everything down on a tablet.

When I finished my account, I sighed. “It’s deplorable, is it not? And positively idiotic of us to have made ourselves such easy targets.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Kiki. “It sounds to me like you were being watched. Carefully. The incident at the bar, did it seem very spur-of-the-moment?”

“It did,” I said. “The man insulted my honor and Raj retaliated. I don’t think the man’s intention was to start a fight, only blackmail us.”

“But he caught on pretty quickly to the fact that you weren’t working-class citizens?”

I nodded in shame. “Raj’s accent roused his suspicions, and then I accidentally called him by his name. The jig was up after that.” I paused. “Although, he was awfully privy to Raj’s reputation. As if he’d been following his progress. I think there have been eyes on Raj for a while now—did anyone tell you about the incident in Port Town a few days prior? Involving a tomato?”

Kiki nodded. “Sakaki told us. Yes, I agree, the criminal underground seems particularly focused on Raj. What we’re trying to solve is, why the sudden escalation? It’s been a full year since the Claw of the Sea fell. From the reports we’ve gathered around town, there’s been little to no retaliation other than the occasional act of vandalism or public nay-sayer. The townspeople have embraced Raj’s transformation, for the most part. Why would the criminal underground risk exposure just to get at Raj?”

“We don’t think it’s motivated by mere vengeance,” said Mitsuhide. “Even though the Claw of the Sea was a kingpin, many criminals would’ve been happy to see them dethroned.”

“Yes, Raj did mention something about creating a power vacuum,” I said carefully. “And I’ve heard mention of how unwanted Raj’s actions may have been to some. As if they took it as a personal slight. So I think you’re right: it’s not so much about avenging the Claw of the Sea as it is retaliating against a royal who actually managed to pose a threat to their power.”

“You think they’re scared of him?” Shirayuki piped up, leaning against the wall behind Kiki.

“I think… they’re scared of what he could become,” I said. “Hence their determination to break him down.”

“It’s an odd motivation, for an organized crime ring,” said Mitsuhide. “Almost…”

“Political,” Kiki finished.

I looked back and forth between the two aides. “You think there’s some kind of conspiracy going on?”

“That is exactly what we think,” said Zen from where he stood next to Shirayuki.

“How is Raj’s image with the court?” Kiki asked casually.

“Well… I’m not altogether sure,” I said. “From my knowledge—that is, my mother’s knowledge—his image had rather improved. But by Raj’s own account, he does not feel well-regarded at all.”

Kiki and Mitsuhide exchanged another glance, as if they could read each other’s thoughts.

“You don’t think…” I looked around the room. “That the nobles are involved, are they?”

“Well, unfortunately, your story lends credence to our suspicions,” said Kiki. “What happened was too staged, too… premeditated. Here’s my theory.” She placed her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together. She had very elegant hands, I noticed. A noble’s hands. But that couldn’t be right; why would a lady of high birth choose to be a royal guard? “Certain nobles did not take kindly to Raj suddenly taking a vested interest in the Crown. I’m sure they rather hoped that he’d continue on his ruinous path, therefore ensuring that when he did take the throne, they could easily undermine his authority. Perhaps the king even considered naming another as his heir or steward.

“In any case, I believe this noble—or nobles—were also in the Claw of the Sea’s pocket. These nobles, fully aware of the unrest in the organized crime community, put a bounty on Raj’s head, but not to kill him—no, that would be too risky. Too obvious. They want him neutralized. They want his reputation damaged beyond repair. The criminal underground likely feels the same way but lacked the resources or organization to accomplish it, and yes, under normal circumstances they would rather not draw attention to themselves. But funded by a noble’s coffers? They’ll do practically anything.”

“This noble would have to be smart,” said Mitsuhide. “Able to fly under the radar but not so obscure that their name didn’t carry weight. And they would have to have money—enough to motivate the crime ring at least.”

“What about Lord Sisk?” I blurted out without really thinking too hard about it. The occupants of the room looked at me curiously. “He recently had his title and lands restored, did he not? And didn’t his father have ties with criminals?”

“Yes, and so did he,” Zen said dryly. “But it would be unbelievably stupid of him to stab Raj in the back like that after he helped him get his life together. I agree that he’s shady enough for it, but what would be the motive?”

“Pure spite?” Kiki offered. “Having to be subservient to a royal?”

“He did seem a bit put out that Raj kept sending him on errands,” I said. “Otherwise, he seemed congenial enough.”

“They always do,” Mitsuhide said with a snort.

“Is he our prime suspect, then?” Kiki said, throwing a glance back at Zen.

Zen shrugged. “I wouldn’t rule him out. It could just as easily have been him as anyone else. We’ll have to keep an eye on him, too.”

“The ball,” I said, putting two and two together. “All of Tanbarun’s nobility will be in attendance. Tell me you plan on using that to your advantage.”

“You catch on quick,” said Kiki with a smirk. “No one told us the first princess of Valiona would be so inclined toward espionage.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Sakaki said dryly.

“No, please, encourage me,” I countered. “I want to help. In any way I can.”

Sakaki and Zen exchanged a look. I could tell just by watching them which of the two was on my side.

“Raj,” Shirayuki spoke up. “Someone will have to protect Raj.”

“Are we not telling him about any of this?” I asked. “Is he to be kept in the dark about something that concerns him so directly?”

“Between what happened in the city, the ball, and everything else on his plate, what do you think?” Sakaki asked.

“We’re not even sure if there is a conspiracy,” said Zen. “We don’t want to alarm him about something that might not even be true.”

“And put him on edge,” Shirayuki added. “You know his disposition. He’ll spend the entire ball looking over his shoulder. After everything that’s happened, shouldn’t he be able to enjoy one night?”

That was a fair point. “So then, we shall be the ones looking over our shoulders instead.”

“And we’ll report our findings to him the next day,” said Zen.

“If we have findings to report,” Mitsuhide offered.

I sighed. “One night of ignorant bliss, and then we tell him,” I said. “Is that the deal?”

Shirayuki stepped forward and extended her hand across the table. Her verdant eyes bore into me as if we were about to make a blood oath. “Deal,” she said.

Since arriving in Tanbarun, I’d imagined this summer going several ways, but becoming embroiled in a court conspiracy, signing on to be Raj’s secret bodyguard, and shaking hands with Shirayuki in the dim light of a catacombs chamber had never been very high on the list.

Chapter Text

With two days to go until the ball, there was plenty to keep me occupied. I hardly saw Raj for the rest of the day following my excursion to the catacombs, though we did manage to exchange wary smiles and brief updates in the halls. The combination of Shirayuki’s medicine and more time at the spa saw an accelerated recovery for Raj—by the evening meal, he already looked worlds better.

We ate with the king and family as well as the guests that had already arrived: Zen and Shirayuki, a few nobles of the court, and Lord Sisk, who had returned with the Clarinese entourage—which put me on edge, in light of the conspiracy. But if he noticed my less-than-infrequent study of his behavior, he did not draw attention to it. Then again, he was much too preoccupied with the pretty earl’s daughter seated next to him.

It was odd to share a secret with Zen and Shirayuki, but I could tell that they were in the same state of observation that I was by the way they watched the various nobles seated at the table. We were in cahoots now—no doubt about it. And in a way, it was exhilarating. Though I would have much rather preferred it if Raj were in on the secret, Sakaki was right: he didn’t need any more stress. I could tell just by the way he’d been sitting up a bit straighter and glancing periodically at his father that he was determined to redeem himself.

As per usual, I was seated to his right, and I was tempted to take his hand under the table to reassure him that all would be well.

Actually…

Why couldn’t I do that? It was not as if anyone would see, and even if they did, they were more likely to smile in approval than object. I let my left hand travel until I found his right hand resting on his knee (thankfully, he was left-handed) and gripped it. He flinched, evidently not expecting such a thing to occur, and I instantly wondered if I’d made a mistake. But then he flipped his palm over, interlocking his fingers with mine, and squeezed.

My heartrate skyrocketed—I did not expect him to take to it with such fervor. But then he glanced at me with a look of gratitude, implying that he welcomed the physical reassurance. I squeezed his hand back as if it were our own secret language. We stayed that way for a while, acting as if nothing were amiss as we ate and conversed with the other dinner guests.

And then Raj flipped our hands over, released my fingers, and began stroking my palm, feather-light. It didn’t tickle—thank God—but arguably it did something rather worse: it sent chills up my arm and all throughout my body, so palpable I thought for certain others would notice, as if I’d started giving off some kind of bioluminescence.

I tried in vain to focus on my food as he traced my fingers, my palm, the curve of my wrist—it was altogether unbearably distracting and I found my eyes threatening to close even though I was far from tired. I knew I should pull away and end this indecorous flirtation as swiftly as it had begun, but I was rather beside myself, truly out-of-body (or at the very least, out-of-mind). I did not want him to stop. I rather wished we weren’t at dinner so that he didn’t have to.

At that, my senses returned to me and I snapped my hand back a bit more abruptly than I would have liked. Raj flinched a bit but otherwise there was no indication of what had occurred. We went back to eating and said little to each other for the rest of the meal.

I attempted to engage Lord Sisk in conversation, as much for distraction as for intelligence-gathering. I was hyperaware of Raj’s attention on me and I hoped for his sake he didn’t think I’d slighted him in favor of the young lord, who I really couldn’t have given two beans about on a normal day.

At the conclusion of dinner, I retreated to my rooms as quickly as I could. I’d learned nothing other than that the Lord Sisk enjoyed archery and that Raj’s hand felt incredible in mine. And what was I supposed to do with either of those pieces of intel?

To distract myself, I decided to steal away to the library and make up for the reading time I’d missed out on this morning, even if it was for a very legitimate reason. I did not anticipate anyone else being there and was relieved to find my reading nook empty. I tried resuming the historical romance I’d been reading the day prior, but that did not help sort me out one bit. I switched to a science journal instead, which had the immediate and magical effect of putting me to sleep.

But just as quickly, I felt myself stirred by a presence, by the slight addition of a weight across my shoulders. I opened my eyes and found that someone had covered me with a blanket—no, a robe. Naturally, that someone was Raj.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said. “Karina said I’d find you here.”

That implied that he’d gone to my room. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Is she here?”

“Downstairs,” he said quickly. “She let me go look for you by myself. I think she feels rather sorry for me.”

Or for me, I thought. “Well, here I am.”

“How are you?” he asked. “I feel as if I’ve barely been able to catch my breath since we returned.”

“I’m well,” I said demurely. “Though I confess I feel much the same way.” Lord, how I wanted to tell him about the conspiracy. But I had to keep it together, for his own good.

“You have recovered well since our little excursion, I take it?” he asked, adopting my slightly more formal tone.

“I have,” I said. “And you look much improved since even this morning.”

“Yes, I’m just as surprised as you are, seeing as though the conversation with Father was liable to leave me even more haggard.”

“How did that go, anyway?” I asked solemnly. “After I left?”

“Don’t worry, I shall live to see my twentieth birthday after all,” he said with an uneasy chuckle. “The both of us are on house arrest, as if we weren’t in confinement before. No Port Town, no navy training, no city tours. He says he’ll take us up for a review the week after the ball.”

I relaxed in relief. “That’s fair.”

“Are you… looking forward to it?” he asked apprehensively. “The ball?”

“Of course I am,” I said. “I always do.” Usually, this was in part because it marked the halfway point through my long, tedious summer residence. But this year, I looked forward to it on its own merits.

“I’ve never thought to ask, but do you enjoy dancing?”

I smiled. “Yes, I do. Particularly when my dance partner is up to the task.”

“Our obligatory first dance must be a real hamper on your amusement, then,” he said with an edge of a smile.

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” I said, feigning sternness. “You’re a perfectly adequate dance partner.”

“Adequate.” He chuckled lightly, looking off to the side. “Yes, I suppose I am adequate.”

“Raj,” I said softly. “I was only teasing.”

“Yes, I know.”

After a beat, I stated, “Your heart is still heavy.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “What happened yesterday…”

“Is over now,” I finished. “And we’re home safe. I know you feel as if it was your fault, but it wasn’t. It—” I stopped myself before I said that the events of last night (and, likely, the night before) might’ve been part of a bigger scheme, thus revealing the conspiracy theory. God, how I wanted to tell him. But there was little guarantee it would put his mind any more at ease. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it was, because you won’t allow it to happen again.”

“I won’t?” he said dubiously. “And what can I do? It seems that all I’m capable of doing is making a fool out of myself while others defend my honor and clean up my messes. I feel so weak, so pathetically weak and emasculated. Sakaki has to save me. You have to save me. Zen has to save me. I am a veritable damsel in distress and I hate it. I hate that I am pitied.”

Heated, I rose from the chair and got in his face. “You are not pitied, Raj. Don’t let those jackals get inside your head. You are a prince and a friend and a wonderful person, truly a good man, and I am honored to know you. I do not pity you. I—” What was I about to say? That I loved him? I wouldn’t have meant it like that, would I? But would he take it that way?

“You what?” he asked pensively.

I steeled myself, met his eyes, and said, “I respect you. I respect the bloody hell out of you, Raj Shenazade.”

He looked confounded for a moment, as if I’d just sprouted a third eyeball. I had spoken more passionately than I normally did—perhaps too passionately. But I’d meant every word, and I hoped it burned into him like a brand upon his soul so that he never felt the need to self-deprecate again.

Then, his eyes welled with tears. It happened so quickly I thought I was seeing things until he surged forward and embraced me, pulling me tight into his chest and sobbing into my shoulder. I had seen him cry, but never like this—never so sincerely. It was the same frustration and grief he’d shown glimpses of in Port Town. The same growing pains.

He held fast onto me, his hands clutching the back of my nightgown, as I rubbed his back and let him vent his unease. I spotted Karina peering around a bookcase, likely drawn by the sounds of distress, and I gave her a subtle wave over Raj’s shoulder. God bless her, she retreated to give us some privacy—but not too much, of that I was certain.

After some minutes, Raj pulled away from my shoulder but kept his hands wrapped around my back. “I am sorry,” he said, his nose sounding clogged. “I’m not helping my case.”

“I beg to differ,” I said, gently wiping his face with the sleeve of my nightgown. “It is a very brave thing to cry.”

He scoffed lightly and pressed his forehead to mine, jumpstarting my awareness of how intimate a moment this was. My hand slipped to his chest and I could feel how fast his heart was beating. Mine fared none the better.

“You are too gracious to me, Charlamaine,” he said, his voice low and slightly rasped.

“It is nothing,” I same lamely.

“It is everything,” he said. “You’re everything.”

“Now, that’s a bit hyperbolic, don’t you think? After all, a person cannot be everything, for that would imply that anything else is nothing, and that simply isn’t—”

He’d moved his lips within a whisper’s distance of mine, which stalled any clever witticisms I might have used as a means of hiding behind. Was he going to kiss me? It felt surreal, dreamlike—as did the realization that I wanted to be kissed by him.

Instead of closing the distance between us in the way I’d anticipated, he trailed his lips to my ear and said, “You drive me crazy, you know that, Charlamaine?”

Through my haze, I managed to quip, “If anyone ought to send you to the asylum, don’t you think it should be me?”

“And rest assured I would gladly go,” he whispered. “If that’s what would please you.”

I shuddered, not out of distaste, but because his breath tickled—not to mention words he spoke. “Don’t be a cad.”

His lips grazed my neck, gentle, teasing. An electric pulse traveled through my body, warm and pleasant. What was he doing to me? It was like the dinner all over again. “Then tell me what to be.”
“Be—”

He kissed my jawline. I caught on fire. “Yes?”

“Be—”

His lips moved to the corner of my mouth. I felt drunk. “Tell me, Charlie.”

“Be a gentleman,” I finally managed.

He snapped out of it and pulled away. “Right. Of course. You’re absolutely right.”

I felt like I’d just been yanked out of a pleasant dream by a bucket of ice water. I stared into the middle distance, hoping he couldn’t see how much I hadn’t wanted him to stop.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said again. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not myself. I’m overwrought.”

“You are perfectly fine,” I said. “It is only that…”

“I’ve overstepped,” he said with a sigh.

“No.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “It is that we’re not alone.”

He sighed, releasing me. “We are never truly alone. It is our curse.”

“Perhaps one day…” I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say or if I should even say it.

The way he looked at me eagerly told me I shouldn’t have spoken at all. “Perhaps one day what?”

“Perhaps… perhaps one day we’ll get used to it,” I fudged.

I watched the light in his eyes dim. “Yes, perhaps one day we shall. Until that day, I should take my leave.”

I handed him his robe, which I had thrown across the chair when I’d stood. “Here.”

“Keep it,” he said. “I’m rather warm.”

I didn’t protest, holding it close to my chest as if it would act as a shield for my feelings.

He hesitated, then said, “Charlie, I… I want you to know how much I appreciate what you said. Your support means the world to me. I hope you know that.”

“And I hope you take those words to heart,” I said. “And never again believe the lie that your friends think anything but well of you.”

He smiled genuinely, touched his hand to my shoulder, and said, “Goodnight, my dearest one.”

It took a stunted second for me to register what he’d said. “Er, goodnight,” I said lamely.

My dearest one.

I slumped into the chair, my heart having apparently taken flight and disappeared into the stacks. This couldn’t be happening now. Not with so much going on. I couldn’t actually have feelings for Raj, could I? It was too soon. I needed more time to make sure everything I’d experienced with him was real.

But in my heart (wherever it had flown off to), I knew it was. He wasn’t the person I’d turned down two years ago. That had never been the real him, anyway—it had all been a mask for his loneliness and pain, his unwillingness to look beyond himself. And I had known then, as I knew now, that if he ever did heal, he would be someone I could see myself standing beside.

After the ball, I told myself. That is when I will tell him.

That was one thing he deserved to know.

Chapter Text

The day of the Midsummer’s Ball had arrived, and Shenezade Castle was a flurry of activity and preparation. I knew this song and dance well, so to speak—there was a breakfast banquet with the resident nobility, a promenade, a Ladies’ Tea, and then we all went our separate ways to get ready for the dinner banquet, which would be served at promptly 6 o’clock.

The royal family (myself included in this case) were expected to be ready to receive our guests no later than five-thirty. Which meant I had to be ready by five, just to be safe.

The morning and early afternoon moved quickly—so quickly, in fact, that I hardly had time to process it all, much less enjoy it. Then again, my head was still in the clouds after last night, and every interaction with Raj (brief and formal though they were) only served to launch me further into the stratosphere.

In spite of it all, I managed to enjoy the promenade through the gardens and the Ladies’ Tea, which included Shirayuki and Kiki—who was apparently nobility after all.

After that, I was spirited away to my rooms by Karina and the assemblage began. A bath, perfumed with oils, a massage, and then the presentation of the gown, which had been designed and handcrafted by the royal dresser. I’d had several consultations and fittings earlier in my stay but this was the first time I saw the dress fully complete.

I gasped when they spread it out on the bed. It was… stunning. The color the sky had been the first time I’d gone with Raj to Port Town, a serene, flawless blue with layers and layers of tulle that gave the skirt a hazy, cloud-like quality.

The bodice glittered like starlight and had a plunging sweetheart neckline with sheer applique and silver beadwork. The sleeves were also sheer and billowing, cinching into cuffs with beadwork that matched the bodice.

It was, all in all, a gorgeous dress. I couldn’t wait for Raj to see me in it.

“His Highness will be wearing royal blue to match,” the dressmaker said, a prim and discerning woman who reminded me a bit of a field mouse, but in the best possible way. “Since it is customary for Your and His Highnesses to share the first dance, the idea is to evoke the sense of where the sky meets the ocean.”

“Oh, that is positively divine,” I said, breathless. “Thank you.”

Karina helped me get into the dress, and then it was time for hair and makeup—always the longest part of the ritual, but Karina had a practiced hand. For tonight, I wore my hair in a braided up-do that left a few curls free to frame my face. Rouge, lips, jewels, shoes, and I was ready for the ball.

“Dare I say it, Your Highness, but tonight, you look like a queen,” said Karina.

I smiled graciously at the compliment, though I couldn’t say I felt as regnal as I looked.

It was customary for a royal guard to escort me to the banquet hall, but when the time to head downstairs arrived and I opened the door, I was surprised to find Mitsuhide, Prince Zen’s aide, waiting for me.

“At Zen’s behest, I’ve been asked to escort you,” he said, offering his arm.

“Of course, Sir Knight,” I said, thinking that there must be a more tactical reason than politeness for him to lend out one of his bodyguards. As it turned out, I was at least partially right.

“You know your assignment for tonight?” he said to me as we made our way toward the staircase.

“Protect Raj,” I said. “Keep an eye open for suspicious activity. And make sure he enjoys himself without suspecting anything.”

“Yes, basically,” said Mitsuhide. “If there is a conspiracy going on, I highly doubt any moves will be made tonight. But if you do feel threatened in any way… you call for me, Zen, Sakaki, or Kiki. Do not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“It’s not like I can fight anyway,” I said, a bit morosely. “Unfortunately, it is not included amongst the ‘ladylike arts.’”

Mitsuhide snorted. “A shame, really. You know, if you ever find yourself in a pinch where you have to defend yourself, just aim for the eyes.”

“The eyes?”

“Hard to attack someone when you can’t see. Oh, and the groin is a safe bet, too.”

“Good gracious, I see why such a thing isn’t considered ladylike,” I said, fanning myself facetiously.

Mitsuhide chuckled. “But don’t worry—it shouldn’t ever come to that. And here we are.” Somehow, we had already reached the end of the staircase and now stood in front of the banquet hall doors. “This is where I leave you. Have a wonderful time at the ball, Your Highness.” Mitsuhide swept into a bow and departed.

I entered the banquet hall without fanfare since it was just the royal family sans the king. Raj instantly stood, a look of wonderment on his face. For his part, he looked incredibly strapping in his ocean blue suit, a deep blue that made his eyes look dark and sultry, cut to perfectly flatter his long torso and legs. I took my place standing to his right and curtsied slightly. He took my hand and kissed it.

“You look absolutely stunning, Princess,” he said. “A vision in blue.”

“Likewise, Your Highness.”

Rona, dressed prettily in pink, began to rattle of questions about my dress, the ball, the attendees, and anything else her overactive mind could conjure, so we kept ourselves occupied abating her until the rest of the banquet guests arrived and greeted us in turn.

The last guest to enter the banquet hall, however, caught me entirely off-guard. He was tall with aubergine hair similar to mine, more wavy than curly. With a soldier’s strong build, a scholar’s quiet composure, and ice-blue eyes that could cut through glass, I would recognize such a man anywhere.

It was my brother.

“Lander?” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled when he saw me and swept me into a hug. “Mother and Father told me you’d renewed your summer residence in Tanbarun. I wrote to the king and he agreed to let me visit for the ball. Surprise!”

I was happy to see him, no doubt about it, but it came as such a shock I couldn’t quite hide my confusion. “I thought you had affairs of state up in the north. I thought you’d be gone all summer.”

“My affairs concluded sooner than expected,” he said. “What, am I crashing your party? I understand. I’m the meddlesome older brother.”

“Not at all,” I sputtered. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

In actuality, he was anything but meddlesome. He was eight years older than I was and his royal duties had always kept him occupied. For a while, he had also stayed at Shenezade Castle over the summers, but it had been many years.

He leaned in close to me and said, “I’ll admit I was eager to check in on you and make sure you were… comfortable here.” His eyes flicked behind us to where Raj stood a few paces away, conversing with one of the lords. “In light of what happened the last time.”

“That’s very kind of you, brother,” I said. “The truth is, I’m very comfortable. Raj and I are on amicable terms again. He’s… quite reformed.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said, straightening. “Are you sure a few weeks is enough time to form an accurate appraisal of his character? He could be acting for your benefit.”

“I have zero evidence to the contrary,” I said. “He’s proved himself a gentleman a hundred times over.”

Lander eyed me suspiciously. “You did always go easy on him. I never understood why.”

“Some people need mercy.”

“Oh yes, and royals certainly deserve the most, don’t they?” Lander said with a sharp edge. “Royals have a noblesse oblige, you know. There is little room for foolishness. Even less if you’re already a fool.”

“Raj is not a fool.”

“I heard about what happened in City Royale,” he said. “And Port Town.”

I stiffened. Had the king told him? I supposed he had every right to tell as many people as he deemed fit, but I had hoped he would have kept it discreet, if not for Raj’s sake, then to preserve the Crown’s image.

“You look me in the eye and tell me that after going through all that, that boy isn’t the very definition of a fool.”

I glanced back at Raj, shoulders back, conversing lightly with the Duchess of Sinbia, looking every ounce the prince I knew he was.

But when I finally did look my brother in the eye, I knew I couldn’t lie to him. “He’s a work in progress,” I said. “But that’s how I know it’s a genuine change. If he were too perfect, too seamless, I’d know it was all an act.”

Lander laughed out loud. He was impressed with my answer, even if he didn’t believe me. “If you say so, sister. If you say so.”

Then, the king entered, everyone stood and bowed, he took his seat at the head of the table, and the dinner began in earnest. I was to Raj’s right as per usual, with Lander to my right.

Zen and Shirayuki sat across from us, dressed in mossy greens that made them look like the visiting dignitaries of a faerie realm. In fact, the entire banquet table had been decorated to evoke the feeling of an enchanted forest, which I knew—since I’d had a hand or two in the planning process—was supposed to emulate the ballroom. Shirayuki gave me a friendly, deeply informal wave, which I acknowledged with a nod.

Throughout the course of the meal, I could hardly focus on my food. The unexpected arrival of my brother, his dubious attitude toward Raj, and the anticipation of tonight’s covert espionage had my stomach tied up in knots. Raj took notice and squinted at me.

“Don’t tell me you feel ill,” he said.

“No, I’m just… excited,” I said, smiling with as much ease as I could muster. “Nervous.”

He took my hand underneath the table. “Don’t be,” he said. “I’ll be right by your side the entire time. Except, of course, when I’m wrenched away to talk to Lord So-and-So or dance with Lady What’s-Her-Face.”

“Which will be… basically the entire time,” I said with levity. “So I’m not entirely sure how that’s supposed to bring me comfort.”

He squeezed my hand and leaned in close to my ear. “I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, his breath tickling my ear and sending shivers down my spine in droves.

“You had better,” I said, remembering I was supposed to be keeping an eye on him anyway. However, that was far from the only reason why I wanted him near me.

He pulled back to look me in the eyes and make sure I was in earnest. He smirked when he saw I was. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”

I rolled my eyes, then caught Lander’s suspicious glance in my direction. He’d been talking to the Earl next to him a moment ago, but had he overheard our conversation? I decided it was better if I feigned ignorance. I matched his glare, my best "younger sibling" defense against scrutiny. His expression didn’t falter, which meant he wasn’t buying the innocent act.

I suddenly became very interested in my oyster stew instead.

Chapter Text

“His Royal Highness, Prince Raj Shenezade, accompanied by Princess Charlamaine of Valiona.”

We presented ourselves arm-in-arm at the balcony of the ballroom before descending the gilded stairs to the dancefloor proper. At a ball as established and formal as this one, the Crown Prince and his lady of honor always entered second to last, followed shortly after by the king, who officially commenced the festivities.

Then, it was our duty to perform the first dance, after which point the dancefloor would be open to everyone. The prince was always required to dance twice in total with his lady of honor, though not necessarily in sequence. At balls past, we usually danced both back-to-back. Tonight, who knew? I wished I could dance every dance with him, but that would be showing too much partiality on his part—he had to show the other ladies at the ball some amount of courtesy.

In times past, Raj would get progressively drunker as the night wore on, making it excruciating for whoever he danced with—it was common knowledge amongst the noble ladies to “get it over with” as soon as possible, lest you be the one stuck practically holding him up as the two of you tripped over the steps of a minuet.

I’d also heard he had a habit of disappearing from balls midway. Still, I’d never experienced such a magic act—he always stuck around the Midsummer’s Ball, though whether that was necessarily for the better, I couldn’t say. The few times I had waited until later in the evening to have our second dance, I’d regretted it terribly.

But I harbored no worries about that sort of thing tonight—I had every confidence Raj would conduct himself like a gentleman, and that he had already been doing so since the last time I was here. If anything, I was excited to see the change in attitude amongst the ladies of the court—though I couldn’t say I’d be thrilled to see his dance queue fill up so eagerly.

We waited at the edge of the dancefloor as Raj’s father took his place on the king’s dais at the back of the ballroom—he didn’t dance, or hadn’t since the queen died, at any rate. We all bowed, he took his seat, and the ball commenced in earnest.

“Show time,” Raj said.

We’d danced together countless times before, but this felt different. When he led me out to the center of the dancefloor, my heart pounded a rhythm through my chest, and I was acutely aware of Raj’s hand in mine, of all the eyes trained on our every move, on the way Raj’s hand slipped to my waist as we got into position.

The band began to play the opening notes of the waltz. We swept into the familiar steps—we’d hardly had to rehearse it, since it was a dance we’d both done since we’d practically learned to walk. But it might as well have been an entirely new dance with how nervous I felt, how encumbered by my own senses.

The ballroom really did look lovely, like a fairy realm concealed in the center of a forest, draping vines of verdant mosses arranged purposefully between decadent tapestries displaying intricately woven fantasies—a pond bathed in moonlight, a deer in a forest, its antlers stretching wide like the branches of a tree, a circle of fairy folk dancing around a cluster of toadstools.

There were wax candles everywhere as well, arranged in sconces and hanging from the ceiling, reflecting off the grand chandelier like a million pieces of starlight.

The candles had been Raj’s idea, if I remembered correctly. Altogether, it looked ethereal and lovely, a true midsummer night’s dream.

The waltz ended far too early, before I’d even fully had time to soak it all in. Raj and I hadn’t even talked, absorbed as we were in the abundance of stimuli, or so I assumed.

We bowed to one another as other couples began to trickle onto the floor, the first notes of the subsequent dance beginning to play.

“Another?” Raj asked, holding out his hand. “Or would you rather wait?”

“I think I’ll wait,” I said, deciding in the moment to do a quick sweep of the perimeter before I got too distracted by other happenings. “So I can come rescue you later.”

“What would I do without my princess in shining armor?” he said wryly, kissing my hand. “Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t,” I said. On the contrary, I planned to stick as close to the prince as possible.

I usually didn’t have to want for dance partners at an event like this, but I had a very specific candidate in mind for the next dance. However, he was nowhere to be seen—at least, not amongst the couples currently on the floor, so I excused myself for the refreshment table and felt rather pleased with myself when I found who I was looking for already there, a flute of champagne in his hand: Mihaya, looking like he was sizing up the room in his fine ivory suit.

“Lord Sisk,” I said by way of greeting.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing. His eyes darted around before landing back on me. “Can I offer you a refreshment?”

“Yes, please,” I said, taking the proffered champagne flute he snatched up from the table. “Thank you very much.”

“I thought you’d be out on the dance floor,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be dancing with Prince Raj?”

“We just finished,” I said. “We’ll dance at least once more before the night is spent. Do you dance much, my lord?”

“I try not to,” he said, taking a long draw from his glass. “If I can help it.”

“Come on, now, can’t I tempt you with one dance?” I tried to look mischievous as I said it, though hopefully not too flirtatious. I simply wanted to see what information I could draw from him, that was all.

He looked as if I’d just asked him to jump off a balcony. “You want to dance with me? Raj will hang me.”

“Raj understands the central conceit of a ball,” I said. “Come on. Humor me.”

He looked monumentally nervous as I led him to the dancefloor, reminding me that everything I did had a tendency to be under scrutiny. Certainly, someone would notice that I sought him out and not the other way around, but I hadn’t the time to think about that right now. We took our positions and fell in step with the current dance, which was about halfway over.

I spotted Raj toward the center, dancing with his sister. How sweet, I thought, but when he caught my eye and cocked his head at my choice of dance partner, all I could do was give him a tight grimace.

“So, Lord Sisk, Raj told me you recently had your title restored to you.” I had to start somewhere, after all.

“Er, yes.”

“Did you grow up at court?”

“Only until I was about… nine or so,” he said. “It’s not a very fun story.”

“You don’t have to tell it. Do you know many of the nobles here?”

“A few,” he said. “Most still consider me a pariah, thanks to my family name.”

That doesn’t have the makings of a noble conspiracy… unless he acted alone. “That must be difficult for you. But I imagine it must bring you some comfort to have the prince on your side.”

“Define ‘on my side,’” he mumbled, then remembered himself, his eyes widening. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, he seems to find me irritating.”

“He can be himself around you,” I said. It was as much as he’d told me.

“And his real self is irritable? I suppose that doesn’t come as a surprise.”

“What would you say is the court’s opinion of him?” I asked carefully. “As someone who has lived amongst many different kinds of people, I imagine it’s rather easy for you to decode false sincerity.”

“There’s hardly any decoding necessary,” he said with a snort. “The court is pretty transparent behind closed doors.” Realizing the implications of what he’d said, he gave me a scrutinizing look. “Are you trying to dig up dirt on Raj?”

I flinched at that. “I am not trying to dig up dirt,” I said. “I am only trying to determine who the prince can and cannot trust. As the daughter of an allied kingdom, this concerns me as well.”

“You should be less concerned with what the court says about him and more concerned with what the court says about you.”

I flinched again. “I hardly care.”

“Or better yet, what they say about the two of you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do they say?”

“Oh, half the court thinks you’ll marry him by the end of the season. The other half thinks you’ll ruin him.”

“Ruin him? How? Why?”

“Not sure. Revenge, maybe? For insulting you two years ago?”

“That’s in the past,” I said, flustered. “Why can’t everyone just leave the past alone? Raj is a different person now, and—” I stopped, realizing that the conversation had somehow gotten out of my control. “What’s your opinion of Raj, then? You can answer me honestly. I promise not to tell him. After all, apparently, I have a fifty-fifty chance of ruining him.”

“Oh, then you won’t like what I say next: I think he actually gives a shit now, which is more than anyone could say about him before. He’s a try-hard. And after what happened with the Claw of the Sea, some of the nobles are worried he’ll start looking a little too closely at the goings-on of the court. That the pendulum is going to swing way in the opposite direction and he’s going to try to clean up everything all at once.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected to get this much information out of Miyaha. Hopefully, I could get even more.

“And does that… frighten you?” I asked.

“Me, personally? Not in the slightest,” he said. “I’m clean as a whistle.”

Part of me genuinely believed him. Zen had said he wouldn’t risk getting his title taken away again. If my family’s reputation had been tarnished that badly, I’d do everything in my power to restore it.

“But I’d tread lightly, Princess,” he said as the dance neared its final steps. “You have a bigger part to play in all this than you think.”

My stomach dropped. “How so?”

“Everyone’s watching to see your next move. What you do will directly affect how the prince is perceived. If you don’t marry him, everyone will assume he’s the fool he’s always been. But if you do marry him, and he turns out to be a fool anyway, well… that doesn’t look good for Valiona.”

“What about the third option?” I said, tense with indignation. “The one where I marry him and he’s a great leader?”

Miyaha blew out a puff of air. “Then expect a lot of nobles to really dislike his decisions. That is, if he ends up being the kind of leader everyone fears he’ll be.”

“I’m not afraid of what a bunch of corrupt politicians think.”

“You should be,” he said. “Corrupt politicians always have the most to lose, which means they’re willing to risk the most to keep it. Take it from someone who lived through it. They’ll do just about anything.”

He bowed and took his leave. I, on the other hand, couldn’t quite believe what I’d just heard. I glanced toward Raj, who had just switched partners to Shirayuki. Prince Zen, released from his fiancée, looked in my direction and I nodded my consent.

I had some things to tell him, anyway.

Chapter Text

“Mihaya said all that?” Zen asked as we settled into the steps of the next dance.

“At least that gives us a direction, right?” I said. “Investigate which nobles in the Tanbarun court are involved in illicit activities.”

“Well, the problem is, that was our direction,” he said. “So that doesn’t narrow it down very much. He didn’t say any specific names?”

“No, he just said… half the court thinks I’ll ruin him.”

“Half the court,” he mumbled. “You think that was literal?”

“Maybe.”

“If this is bigger than just a few disgruntled nobles, then…”

“It could be serious,” I said. “It is serious.”

“We did use the word ‘conspiracy,’ didn’t we?” He chuckled nervously. “I’m not so sure Mihaya is a prime suspect anymore, based on what you said.”

“Me either,” I said. “He might even be an ally.”

“Let’s not get too hopeful, now. But I think you can cross him off the list for now. Stick close to Raj—make it very clear that you show preference for him. Butt into a few dances, even.”

“But that—”

“Will get people talking,” he said. “And my eyes and ears will pick up the chatter: who’s for it and who’s against it. That’s not too big of an ask, is it?” He gave me a knowing smirk.

“Goodness, it almost feels indulgent.”

“Good. You deserve to have fun tonight, too, Princess. So have fun with him.” He twirled me—an optional flourish in the dance—and reset us as the music ended.

“Thank you, Prince Zen,” I said, sweeping into a curtsey.

He gave me a wink as we made our way back to Raj and Shirayuki.

“Wanna switch partners?” Zen said to Raj. “I think we got them mixed up.”

Raj chuckled uneasily. “Of course.” He looked at me. “Back so soon for that second dance?”

“What can I say? I couldn’t stay away,” I said, smirking.

Raj blushed crimson. “Right. Well, then.” He took my hand in his. “I believe the next dance is a Tanbarunian traditional, the zeybak. I hope you’ve brushed up.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” I said. “Don’t let me down, Raj.”

He didn’t, even though I did fumble through a step or two. It was an active dance, not ideal for talking, but there was plenty of room for eye contact—and I’d never been so aware of Raj’s eyes on me, nor so unwilling to look away from them. There was an intensity to them that was hard to pin down, not anger or peril like in City Royale, not determination or focus like in Port Town, but a hunger, a disarming sort of—

All men have that look.

I nearly fumbled on the next step as it hit me. Want. The look in his eyes, it was want.

But not the sly, entitled want from two years ago. This was softer, measured, and warm. I supposed it should not have surprised me, not in itself, but what did surprise me was how welcome it was. How completely willing I was to be wanted by him.

How much I wanted him right back.

I must have blushed or made a strange face, because the next time we came together, the look dissipated as his brow creased with concern. “Are you all right, Charlie? You look disturbed.”

“Disturbed? No, I’m not disturbed. Just… exerted, from the dance.”

He gave me a reproving look. “Do you need a break? Perhaps a refreshment?”

“I could use some air,” I admitted. I needed to clear my head, make sense of all this.

But then he pulled me flush with him—which was not part of the dance—and said into my ear, “How much air?”

I looked up at him in confusion.

“The terrace is open and all, but if you’d like someplace else, somewhere away from… prying eyes,” he looked askance as he said it, “I know a place.”

Somewhere private? Lord have mercy, could I really trust myself to go someplace private with Raj right now? What if someone saw us sneak off?

Then they’d talk, the newly-minted spy in me said. And we want them to talk.

That was all it took to break down my resolve. “I wouldn’t mind someplace… without eyes,” I said.

He looked scandalized to hear me say yes. “You’re serious?”

I reached out to straighten his lapel. “I’m very serious.”

That look from before was back, in part at least. “This way, then,” he said. He took me by the hand, and I let him pull me off of the dance floor to the staircase, which led up to the mezzanine—a place that was open to anyone wishing for a retreat from the dancing and music.

But he didn’t stop at the balcony. Making sure no one was looking, he led me to an alcove that housed a window that looked out onto the courtyard. On one side of the wall was a tapestry, which he moved aside with one hand to check behind.

“Perfect,” he said, and pulled me through a hidden passageway that emptied out onto a private balcony overlooking the palace grounds. It wrapped around the outer wall of the palace for about ten feet and had a solid stone railing but otherwise looked like nothing more than ornamentation.

“How ingenious!” I said.

“This is commonly known in Tanbarunian architecture as a midnight terrace,” he said with a flourish. “Designed for private conversations and, yes, scandalous rendezvouses.”

“And how is it you know about it?” I asked, leaning my forearms against the railing. “Do you know all the secret rooms and passages in the palace?”

“Not all, but a good number,” he said. “This one I found quite by accident, trying to hide one year during a winter’s ball. I was probably… twelve or so?”

“So you knew about this when I would visit and never told me?”

“Well, I’ll admit my motivations were purely selfish,” he said. “I liked having a secret place only I knew about.”

I pushed off from the balcony. “How often have you been up here?”

“Anytime I wished to disappear at a ball, this is generally where I would be. If I wasn’t passed out drunk on a chaise lounge. Actually, sometimes I would pass out drunk out here. Reappear in the morning.”

“You never disappeared while I was here, though,” I said.

“Well, that’s because I wanted to be around you, obviously,” he said pithily. Then, he softened. “Even if I had a funny way of showing it.”

“That’s quite sweet, actually,” I said. “I’m flattered I was interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“Interesting is too inferior a word.” He lifted his chin. “You were—are—a healing presence.”

I scoffed. “I thought that was Shirayuki’s job.”

“People can heal others in different ways,” he said. “You can’t compare yourself to Shirayuki. She’s—”

“Special,” I finished. “She’s someone you can respect.”

“She didn’t fix me, you know,” he said. “I assume that’s what you think, but that’s not how it happened.”

“She started it, though,” I said softly. I hadn’t expected all this to come out tonight. “She was the catalyst.”

“No,” said Raj pointedly. “You were.”

I looked at him in shock.

“For years you tried to reform me. I remember, because it annoyed me so. But it was also amusing to watch you try. I sometimes thought, ‘If anyone can persuade me, it’s her.’ So I let you say your piece even if I did little more than brush it off afterward. What I didn’t realize, though, was that subconsciously, I was absorbing every moral you tried to instill in me. It was latent, dormant, like magma in a volcano. Your methods were patient, gentle—then Shirayuki barreled in with her firecracker ways and set off a chain reaction.”

“That’s the definition of a catalyst,” I said dryly, even though everything he’d just said was unbelievably wonderful.

“Bad metaphor, then. What I’m saying is, Shirayuki didn’t teach me anything, per se. She reminded me of things I’d already known and chosen to forget. Things you’d told me all our lives. Once I made the decision to clean up my act, I found that it wasn’t so difficult after all to know what I needed to do—and the voice in my head, my conscience, well, it sounded a lot like you.”

Somewhere in the course of this, my eyes had filled with tears and rolled down my cheeks. Raj reached forward and wiped one side gently with his thumb, followed by the other. His hand lingered against the side of my face, then slipped to the back of my neck, pulling me to him.

He was going to kiss me, I realized.

He was going to kiss me, and I wanted him to, more than anything in the world.

Chapter Text

I tipped my head upward and closed my eyes just as Raj’s lips met mine, soft, warm, and welcome—like coming home. I inhaled sharply, overcome by just how wonderful it felt, and brought my hands to the side of his face, letting one slip up into his ever-wild hair. His other hand went to my waist, and then he slipped his tongue into my mouth. Reflexively, I gasped.

He pulled away just as quickly. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, just—I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I don’t have to do that,” he said, searching my face for the truth.

“No, I want you to,” I said. “I liked it. I just didn’t know… that kissing could… feel this good.”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, his voice low. “I’m afraid if I start again, I won’t be able to stop.”

“I trust you,” I said.

“Are you sure about that?”

I answered by kissing him and trying what he’d just done—pushing my tongue into his mouth. It felt… natural. Not at all what I would have assumed if someone had bothered to tell me it was an option. He answered with his tongue, moaning softly, and then I was moving backward, slowly but deliberately, until my back came up flush against the wall of the castle.

I wasn’t altogether sure if it had been my decision to move or his—it seemed to be a collective choice, mutual, right. The kiss deepened, which I hadn’t known would be possible—our tongues moved together as if in a dance, our mouths keeping a steady rhythm. His hands were on my waist, then my ribs, then my breasts, and I didn’t care—I didn’t want him to stop. All at once, his mouth detached from mine and kissed my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone, working downward until he was nipping lightly at the sensitive area where my chest met my bosom. It felt so wrong and so right and I was drowning in the contradiction, getting drunk on it.

Then he dropped to his knees.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you faint?”

He shook his head. “Tell me to stop,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll ruin you,” he said. “Tell me to stop. I beg of you.”

My heart pounded in my ears. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. I want nothing more than to ruin you, Charlie, that’s the problem.” He leaned his head against my stomach. “And I respect you too much to do that, so please, release me.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair, at a loss. I didn’t want him to stop, either. The irony of it all was not lost on me, but he looked so tortured, and I didn’t want him thinking he’d done me wrong, even if I didn’t believe it myself.

So I tilted his head upward to look me in the eyes and said, “I’d like you to stop now.”

He let out a sigh of relief and hung his head. “I knew this balcony was dangerous.”

“I rather like it for just that reason.”

He pulled himself up to stand and braced one arm against the wall beside me. “Of course you would, Princess. You crave a little danger.”

I scowled lightly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His eyes softened. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“For what?”

“For letting me show you this place. For letting me kiss you.”

“Oh, that was no problem at all,” I said as flippantly as possible. “Unless, of course, that’s what you tell all the girls.”

He backed away, affronted. “Listen, about that… I hope you believed me when I said you’re the first person I’ve ever brought up here.”

“I do,” I said. “And it’s lovely.”

“And I’d also like you to know—and I did try to say this at the tavern, but you cut me off—that whatever you’ve heard about me and women, it’s… mostly… been exaggerated. Women terrified me. In some ways, they still do. I surrounded myself with them in an attempt to hide the truth, make myself seem more, I don’t know, impressive and masculine. I’m not nearly as much of a whore as the rumors made me out to be, though it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.”

“Raj,” I scolded. It was the second time I’d heard him use that word on himself, and I didn’t care for it.

“You deserve to know that,” he said. “Even if it damages your opinion of me. You’re so pure and innocent and I’m… a fool.”

I sighed. “I really wish people would stop calling me pure and innocent,” I said. “It just reminds me how little I know about the world.”

“It’s a good thing,” he said, taking my hands. “You don’t want to know how dirty and awful the world is. Hell, I’m sure you got enough of a taste in City Royale to last you a lifetime. That’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Yes, I know,” I said. “And that’s what concerns me. How can you rule an entire nation and not be as privy to the bad as you are to the good? Shouldn’t a ruler be acquainted with all aspects of life, no matter how unsavory?”

“Yes, but not… personally acquainted.”

“Don’t some countries require their rulers-in-training to serve in the military?”

“Yes, including Tanbarun. Why do you think I’m doing naval training?” He shrugged. “I sidestepped an actual campaign like the coward I am.”

“Well, what do I do, then? What do princesses and queens do?”

“Literally everything else,” he said, gesturing widely. “Diplomatic relations. Restoration projects. Meetings, committees, dissolving conspiracies. Hell, queens probably know more about espionage than kings do.”

I flinched, thinking of the espionage I was currently embroiled in. Did he know about that?

He mistook my trepidation for scandal and added, “Trust me, you don’t want to be fighting wars. You want to be slipping poison into people’s tea. It’s a lot more fun.”

I snorted, ready to divert the conversation before I gave anything away. “My, I didn’t know you were so devious.”

“I beg to differ—you certainly saw my devious side just a few minutes ago.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, smiling wickedly. “And we should probably get back to the ball before I get even more devious.”

I put my hands on his chest and kissed him on the cheek. “God forbid that happen.”

Chapter Text

Despite our reluctance to leave the balcony, we managed to slip back into the ballroom without detection, or at the very least, without our absence having incited a panic. I would have gone back to the dance floor, but Raj insisted on refreshments first. When we reached the table, the attendant serving the drinks bowed and said, “Your Highness, what fortuitous timing. A special vintage has been reserved for you, an import from Clarines.”

“Oh?” Raj looked amused. “From one of my Clarinese guests, I presume?”

“I am not entirely sure who gifted it, as it was delivered to me by a footman with express instructions,” said the attendant. “But I could certainly look into it if Your Highness so pleased.”

“Nonsense, I’ll ask them later. I’d be delighted to try it. Charlie? Would you like some?”

“How could I refuse?” Even if I wasn’t much of a wine enthusiast, I could still appreciate a good vintage.

The attendant produced two already-poured glasses from under the table, which wasn’t an altogether unusual thing, though it did speak of a certain overzealousness. This attendant must be new and therefore eager to please. I only hoped the draft hadn’t been sitting out for long enough to oxidize.

“Cheers,” Raj said, raising his glass to mine. “To you, Charlie.”

“To me?”

“For coming here in spite of your doubts. For giving me another chance.”

“To second chances, then,” I suggested.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said with a smirk. We tapped our goblets together and drank. It was a slightly sweet wine with notes of pomegranate. I liked it far better than I expected.

“Hm,” Raj said, appraising the glass. “Smooth, quite smooth. A touch of bitterness on the last notes, but I never did mind a bit of a bite.” He gave me an exaggerated wink.

I rolled my eyes. He always did have a discerning palette, often to a fault. “Ever the sommelier, are we?”

“Well, I’d love to sip and enjoy, but there is much dancing to do.” He knocked back the rest of the wine in one swig and handed the goblet back to the attendant. “Thank you, good sir.”

I took one last sip and handed mine back as well, allowing Raj to lead me to the dance floor once again, my arm hooked in his. As I watched the crowd watching us, I began to wonder if they could tell that we’d kissed. Nothing felt inherently different between us—other than a wellspring of fond feelings and sparkling nerves—but did we look different?

Did we look like a couple?

We got into position, his hand on my waist, mine on his shoulder, the other hand clasped with his, and together we fell into the steps of the stately waltz. It was an easy one, ideal for conversation. But as I held Raj’s gaze, I suddenly couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I just beheld him, trying to process the headiness of what had happened between us, to sort out my emotions and make sense of it all.

Raj must have been likewise distracted because, on the next turn, he made a misstep and nearly tripped me. We stumbled, I righted us, and we fell back into step as quickly as possible.

“Ah, sorry!” he said. “How clumsy of me.”

“It happens to the best of us,” I said. “You seem to be deep in thought. I confess I too am—”

“Oh, but I’m most certainly not,” he said, a levity to his voice that struck me as odd. He sounded distracted. “I feel… light. Lighter than air.”

“Light as in happy, or light as in… lightheaded?”

“Happy, so very happy, Charlie, you haven’t the slightest idea!” He tried to turn me at a point where the dance did not require a turn, and we crashed into each other. I straightened out, befuddled, but he didn’t even seem to notice. “I’ve never been this happy in my life.”

Now I was wholly suspicious. “Raj, how much did you drink tonight?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk, Charlie. That wine we just had was my first glass since dinner, as a matter of fact. Why would I need to get drunk when I have your loveliness to intoxicate me?”

“Raj, lower your voice.”

“I’m not talking all that loud, am I?” This he said rather loudly, stopping us dead in the middle of the dance. “It’s not as if these imbeciles could hear us anyway, they’re already up to their ears in their own self-importance.”

A few nearby heads turned to look at us, obviously overhearing.

“Raj, what is the matter with you? Are you sure you’re not—?” I observed him carefully, noticing the glazed-over look in his eyes, the slaphappy grin on his face. Yes, those things were indicative of drunkenness, but I believed he was telling the truth. He hadn’t been this way moments ago. In fact, it wasn’t until…

That is when the puzzle pieces fell into place. That wine. The goblets at the ready.

“Come with me,” I said, taking him by the hand and towing him off the dance floor.

“Oh, are we going back to the terrace?” Raj said with a mischievous lilt. “I can’t promise I’ll behave this time around.”

“Quiet,” I said as we reached the refreshments table. But the light-haired attendant who had served us the wine was gone, replaced by a younger girl with dark hair.

“Your Highnesses,” she said, bowing in surprise. “Can I interest you in—?”

“Is there a bottle under the table?” I asked, certain the poor girl must think I’d lost my mind. “A Clarines vintage, reserved for the prince? Or two goblets that looked to be once full?”

“Uh…” Rightfully confused, the girl checked under the tablecloth and shook her head. “There’s nothing under here, my lady. If you would like, I can—”

“What happened to the man who was in your place moments ago?”

“His shift ended. I was sent to relieve him.”

“Where did he go?”

“Who cares?” Raj exclaimed, wrenching himself away from my grip. He leaned heavily against the refreshment table and said, “Champagne for the princess, please, and a glass of port for myself.”

“No,” I said firmly. “We’re not drinking. I need to find Zen, or Mitsuhide, or—”

An import from Clarines.

What if one of them had done this? Put something in his drink? It was an abhorrent thought, and I had no proof—after all, the man could have been lying about where the wine had been from, as he’d never shown us the bottle to begin with—but I could rule nothing out. Who could I trust?

Sakaki?

He was on royal guard duty tonight, but he could be anywhere in the ballroom or outside the palace. If I wanted the attendant tracked down, time was of the essence.

Go after him myself?

Hardly princess-like behavior, and I had a paltry knowledge of the servants’ wing at best. I was more likely to make things worse, and besides, I could not afford to leave Raj unattended, not in the state he was in.

Speaking of, I needed to get him out of here before—

I suddenly realized that while lost in my contemplations, Raj had slipped away. I looked around in a panic, seeing no sign of him anywhere. “Where did he go?” I asked the girl as if she’d been the one to make him disappear.

“I don’t know, my lady,” she said, wide-eyed. “He simply walked away.”

Suddenly, the music stopped mid-melody. The room buzzed with confusion, all eyes looking in the direction of the dance floor. I pushed my way through the crowd with a pounding sense of urgency, reaching the edge just in time to see that Raj now stood on the conductor’s podium to the left of the king’s dais. His father’s seat was empty.

Where is the king?

A glass of champagne in his hand, Raj swayed slightly as he said, “If I could have everyone’s attention, there are a few things I’d like to say to you people.”

Chapter Text

Oh, no. Whatever was about to come out of Raj’s uninhibited mouth, I doubted highly that it would be inconsequential. Judging by his appearance alone, the occupants of the room were already liable to think he was drunk of his own volition.

I assumed that had been by design. Once again, whoever did this wanted to see him humiliated. If ever I doubted there was a conspiracy afoot, my faith was renewed by this.

“First, I’d like to say…” he thought for a moment, then continued, “that I am not drunk.”

Some of the nobles dared to laugh. I slapped a palm to my forehead, thoughts racing as I determined what to do. How to diffuse this without making him a bigger laughingstock? If only my etiquette training had covered what to do when a crown prince gets drugged at his own ball.

“I am not,” he said adamantly, peering at one of the naysayers. “I only had one glass. I may be thin, but I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

Suddenly, Shirayuki and Zen appeared beside me. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why is he acting like an idiot all of a sudden?”

I hesitated, still unsure whether or not I could trust them after all. But then again, if they were in on the conspiracy, why seek to investigate it? It seemed a rather elaborate deception for something that was already shrouded in secrets and misdirection. I decided to take a risk, if only for Raj’s sake.

“I think someone put something in his drink,” I said. “He’s truly only had one since entering the ball, and it was offered to him rather intentionally. The attendant claimed it was a gift from Clarines.”

“What?” Zen exclaimed. “Which attendant? Where?”

“He was at the refreshment table, but he conveniently disappeared,” I said. “Along with any evidence.”

“I’m on it. Come on, Shirayuki. I’ll need your expertise.” Zen disappeared into the crowd, Shirayuki at his heels. If anyone could identify strange compounds, it was her, after all. I allowed myself to feel a modicum of relief. The likelihood of their treachery was nil compared to the rest of the court. If I was wrong, I’d bear the burden later.

Raj had launched into an anecdote about falling asleep under a banquet table after drinking two bottles of port, a vain attempt to prove that he'd be likewise indisposed if he'd drank that much tonight.

“I’m really a coward at heart,” he said. “I cannot stand public speaking, but you all are of such little consequence to me, I hardly feel like I’m talking to real people at all.”

He chuckled as if it were a fine jest. In private, perhaps. But a ripple of dissatisfaction traveled around the room, carrying the distinctively bitter tone of offense.

It was time to put an end to this before it got out of hand. If the king were here to witness this, he would surely have shut it down by now. But no one else would dare be that bold, if they cared to stop it at all.

No one except for me, apparently.

I strode toward the podium, summoning all the royal dignity I could muster. Raj caught sight of me and grinned ear to ear. “Ah, Charlie! I wasn’t talking about you, of course. You’re quite obviously the exception to the rule.”

“Raj,” I said as firmly as I could. “That is quite enough. You are unwell.”

“On the contrary, I’ve never felt more alive, and it’s all thanks to you, my beautiful princess! You look stunning, truly divine. The only thing that could be better than you in that dress is you in nothing at all.”

I tried to ignore the gasps and murmurs that traveled through the crowd. I didn’t need a mirror to know my face had flushed as red as Shirayuki’s hair.

“Raj, you need to stop talking,” I said, fighting to keep my composure. “For your own good. Come on down. Let’s get you some water, perhaps some fresh air.”

“On the terrace?” His face brightened. He looked out into the crowd and declared, “I’ll have all you buffoons know we kissed on the terrace, and I can think of nothing else since. I’m in love with this woman, after all. I’ve been in love with her since we were children.”

“Raj!” This was the last scenario in which I envisioned a love confession from him, rendering it as effective as a passing comment about the weather. All the same, my face grew warmer. Since we were children? Truly?

“I say,” said a courtier standing at the edge of the dance floor—an earl, if I wasn’t mistaken, “is this a declaration of engagement, Your Highness?”

Suddenly, the crowd parted and the king entered the open dance floor, surveying the scene with confusion. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Prince Raj, relieve yourself of the conductor’s podium immediately.”

Raj climbed awkwardly down from the stand, losing his balance just as he would have made it to the ground, the champagne glass slipping from his hand and crashing to the floor. I caught him as he fell and nearly had to hold him upright.

“Thank you, darling,” he said and planted a kiss on my lips.

The crowd gasped.

“Raj, control yourself,” said the king. “Explain all this.”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” said a nearby noblewoman, bowing as she spoke. “The question of declared intent has just now been raised by the Earl of Chagir.”

The king now looked at us. “Well?”

This was too much. Words were one thing, but to kiss a princess in a public setting, outside of the marriage ceremony? It was unheard of. The only viable explanation, the only way out, I realized with certain dread… was to declare intent. It wouldn’t completely justify Raj’s behavior, but it would bear the brunt of it.

The problem was, technically, Raj had never proposed. He was in no state of mind to do so, and declaring intent with him so indisposed felt like a violation of his free will, even if I had reason to believe he wouldn’t be opposed to such an arrangement. It was the principle of the thing. Surely, if he’d intended to propose, he would have wanted it to be special. I would have wanted it to be special.

This was the opposite of special. But to declare that we were not engaged was to invite the following unwanted outcome: firstly, scandal. Secondly, a forced engagement by our parents’ hands in order to abate said scandal. I did not want that, and I knew Raj did not want that either.

This was the lesser of two evils.

Raj, please forgive me.

My mind was made up, and not a moment too soon. Raj had just opened his mouth to say, “Well, you see, Father, I wanted to—”

I turned to face the king and interjected in as clear a voice as I could, “I declare that I intend to marry Prince Raj Shenezade of Tanbarun.”

“Wait, what?” Raj said, a mote of lucidity returning to him at, perhaps, precisely the wrong moment.

There was a long beat of stunned silence, and then at least half of the room—possibly more, though I was too stricken to tell—erupted in applause.

Chapter Text

The king immediately asked to speak with me and Raj in private—well within his rights, given the circumstances—and I was more than happy for an excuse to get Raj out of the ballroom before he said anything else of consequence.

We followed King Shenezade through a side exit into a private chamber, but not before he turned to the crowd, waved his hand, and said, “As you were. Carry on.”

The music started up again, and the court, knowing very well what the protocol was in times like this, obeyed the king’s command.

When the door closed behind us, the king dropped some of his formality and crossed his arms over his chest, manifesting fully into the role of a father. “All right. What is going on here? Is he drunk?”

“No, Your Majesty,” I said. “Well, not by choice. I suspect foul play—someone put something in his drink. Evidently with the aim of making a fool out of him. I cannot claim that their attempts were unsuccessful.”

Raj swayed on his feet, clinging to my arm for support. “I feel dizzy.”

“Let’s lay him down,” the king said, and we carefully deposited him on the settee in the middle of the room. “I’ve already called for Sakaki. He should be here momentarily.”

“Oh, Sakaki, I do miss him,” Raj mumbled from his reclined position.

“Who would poison his drink?” the king asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But it is as I said: this goes a lot deeper than mere gossip. Someone is actively working against the prince. Someone who obviously has access to the palace’s inner walls, Your Majesty. Prince Zen and Lady Shirayuki are investigating as we speak. Hopefully, the trail doesn’t lead to a dead-end.”

“And what of this alleged engagement? Did my son actually propose to you, in truth?”

“He… didn’t,” I confessed. “Not formally, that is. But in the moment… after what he said, in front of the entire court… and the scandal it would have caused…”

“You did the wise thing,” said the king. “And I do not say that only because I approve of you. Your quick thinking diffused a precarious situation with remarkable tact, at great personal expense. I’ve always admired your mother’s gift for diplomacy, and I see a strong resemblance of her in you.”

I tried not to grimace. I knew he meant it as a compliment, but it was quite exhausting to be always in my mother’s shadow, and besides, I was not sure I liked being praised for sacrificing my and Raj’s hearts to appease the gods of court politics.

Then again, that was the mark of a true royal, was it not? It was foolish of me to think otherwise. We were always destined to be together, whether by our own wills or someone else’s. It could have been worse, I determined. It could have been far, far worse.

“At least,” the king continued, “that is what I must say, as a ruler, and I stand by every word. But as a father, I have but one question for you: do you want to marry Raj?”

I opened my mouth to answer just as a knock came from the door on the opposite side of the room, one that led out into a corridor.

“Enter,” the king said.

The door opened and a flushed-looking Sakaki rushed inside, bowing quickly to us before making a beeline to the settee.

“I heard what happened,” he said. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Sakaki. Raj simply needs conveyance to his bedchambers—discreetly, if you could.”

Sakaki scooped the now-unconscious prince up in his arms as if he weighed nothing and nodded. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.” He left the way he came, quiet as a ghost.

Not a second later, there was another knock, this time from the ballroom-side door. What is this, a stage play?

“Enter,” the king said, sounding exasperated.

It was Lander. In all the commotion, I’d nearly forgotten my brother was here.

“Your Majesty, begging your pardon,” he said, bowing as the guard closed the door behind him. “Seeing as though this is a family matter, I presumed the liberty of entering this discussion.”

“You presumed correctly, Prince Lander. I am sure this comes as no uncertain shock.”

“It does indeed, Your Majesty. But as heir to the throne and brother to the princess, I am here to represent the Valionian crown in whatever capacity is necessary. First, suffer me to ask: Charlamaine, are you all right?”

His brotherly concern was touching. “I am fine, Lander.”

“Then it will not distress you to hear me speak freely.”

I already knew what he was about to say, and my distress would not deter him either way. I shook my head. The king gestured for him to continue.

Lander took a diplomatic breath and began, “I cannot in good faith allow her to enter into a marriage with your son. He is crass, irresponsible, and a sexual deviant to boot. He made no such declaration of intent just now, but rather, he shamelessly insulted her honor both verbally and physically in front of your entire court. Anyone with half a brain could see that she declared intent as a way to protect herself. This does not reflect well on Tanbarun or Valiona.”

“He was drugged, Lander,” I said pointedly. “He would never do or say those things normally.”

“Where’s your proof?” Lander replied. “What if that’s just how he is, unadulterated? And even if he was under the influence of something, that fact is yet another blight on his tarnished record.”

“That is enough,” said the king, and my heart lifted at the thought of him defending Raj for once. “The matter is currently under investigation. However, even if his mental state was altered against his knowledge, you are well within your rights to raise such concerns. My son’s reputation precedes him.”

“You cannot be serious,” I said before I could check myself.

The king and my brother both looked at me in surprise.

I couldn’t stop myself. “After everything Raj has done to gain your respect, you still hold him in low esteem.” I shook my head. “Are you hoping that my good record will cancel out his tarnished one? Or that I will be such a good politician, everyone will view him as inconsequential? Have you that little faith in your son?”

“That is not it at all,” the king said, his voice sharpened. I had never in good conscience argued with King Shenezade, and I did not wish to see him angry now.

“If that is the case, sister, then you had best take my advice and break off this engagement now,” said Lander. “You need not be anyone’s crutch, least of all a foolish prince’s. You are worth far more than that.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence," I said. “But what if I want to marry Raj? What if I chose to declare intent? I did choose to kiss him, after all. That much was true. Since arriving, he truly has not done anything to me that I didn’t want him to do, not while in his right mind.”

“You are not in your right mind,” Lander said. “You are overwhelmed, likely a bit drunk yourself—”

“I am more sobered than I have ever been,” I said. Turning to the king, I said, “You asked me whether I wanted to marry Raj or not, Your Majesty. The answer is yes. If he will have me, I will wed him.”

“That settles the matter, then,” the king said, looking relieved. “The princess has declared intent in front of two witnesses—more than two, in fact. I suggest that one or both of you write your parents as soon as possible to communicate the matter. We will want to begin making preparations at once.”

With that, the king took his leave via the opposite door, slipping into the corridor instead of going back to the ballroom. It was just me and Lander now, an air of uneasiness hanging around us like a dense fog. For a long time, neither of us spoke.

“Is this really what you want?” Lander finally asked. “Are you fully prepared to accept the consequences of such a match?”

“I appreciate your concern, Lander, but I can take care of myself. This is my choice. Besides, I believe I did exactly what a royal in my position should have done.”

“Yes, you most certainly did,” he replied, but he sounded sad about it. As if he wished I’d slapped Raj across the face and ended my residency instead. But that didn’t track with the Lander I knew—the level-headed diplomat. Well, perhaps even diplomats get keyed up sometimes, especially where loved ones were concerned. I could understand Lander’s trepidation, but there really was nothing he could do. I would have to prove to him, as I would have to prove to everyone else, just how much I believed in Raj.

“It’s going to be okay,” I reassured him, even though I wasn’t sure I felt so confident myself. “You’ll see.”

A response flashed in Lander’s eyes—doubt, or possibly even anger—but just as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared, and his collected demeanor returned. “Yes, well, as long as you’re certain. That’s all that really matters in the end.”

Chapter Text

I did not return to the ball that evening. I slipped out of the side door, which let out into an atrium just off from the main hall, and went to my rooms. I called for Karina, who was very concerned to see me so distraught, but I had nothing to say to her—I simply had her help me undress, reversing the evening’s hard work in a matter of minutes like a spell that wore off at midnight.

It was hardly midnight, however, when I crawled into bed. I thought I would be up for hours, my head swimming with thoughts as I pondered the night’s events, but I was so emotionally drained I must have fallen asleep within minutes.

When I woke, I thought I dreamt that I was back at the Boys’ House with Raj—he lay facing me, sleeping soundly, but as I blinked back the last layers of sleep, I realized it was no dream at all.

Raj was in my bed.

What?

I sat up in a rush, lest my eyes were playing tricks on me and I had not left the dreamscape after all. The room was still fairly dark, the muted blue light of dawn filtering through the thick curtains, and all was still inside and out, which meant the servants were not yet roaming the halls. That meant that it was unlikely that anyone would have seen Raj enter my room.

However, based on the time, they were likely to be up and about soon.

What do I do now?

Looking down at Raj in slumber, I suddenly found myself reluctant to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, and I was tempted to lie down and pretend nothing was amiss. But I could not. I had to get him out of my room before someone saw him. Engaged or not, it would not bode well for either of us if someone caught him in here.

I shook his shoulder. “Raj,” I said gently. “Raj, wake up.”

He tossed his head to the side, then opened his eyes slowly. When he saw me, he smiled with the languid serenity of half-consciousness. “Oh, hello there.” He stretched, eyes closed, but when he reopened them, it must have donned on him, as it had me, that this was not some pleasant dream.

He bolted upright, looking around the room before his eyes landed on me, his expression one of confused panic. “What am I doing in here?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that, actually.”

“I don’t remember.” He clutched the blanket as if it were a form of protection. Fortunately, he was fully in his nightclothes, as was I. He squinted. “It’s all a blur. I must have sleepwalked. I don’t even remember going to bed.”

Concern rose like a tide within me. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“I remember the ball,” he said. “I remember dancing with you, and the terrace—oh, that wasn’t a dream, was it?” His eyes were wide, imploring.

“No, that wasn’t a dream,” I said, cheeks tingling. “Go on. Do you remember what happened after that?”

“We returned to the ballroom and… did we drink? Oh, God! I got drunk again, didn’t I?” He dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, it’s all coming back. No wonder my head feels split open. I made an utter fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t your doing,” I said. “The wine you were given was laced with something, I’m sure of it. The effect was fast-acting.”

He looked at me in shock. “Laced with something? I was drugged?”

“I’m afraid so. The matter is under investigation as we speak. Oh, Raj, please don’t be too hard on yourself.”

He’d fallen over sideways, his head coming to rest in my lap. I prayed no one entered the room now—and yet I could not bring myself to move him away. “Tell me what I said, Charlie. Please. I’m certain I said something terrible, I can feel it. I vaguely remember… getting on the podium, I think? Oh, God.” He turned his face and buried it into my legs like a pillow.

I felt hot and cold all at once, but I had to soldier on for his sake. “It wasn’t as bad as you think,” I said. “You mostly talked about past revels. Though, Raj, there is something I must tell you, something that came out of what happened last night. It is… well, it’s rather shocking.”

He sat up in a rush. Part of me was sorry for how suddenly cold my legs felt. “Tell me. Please.”

I took a deep breath. “It appears that… in light of what transpired last night, we seem to find ourselves… engaged.”

He blinked. Once, twice, thrice. Then he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and stared me down once more with a look of utter incredulity. “Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I proposed to you in front of the entire court, and you actually said yes to me in the state I was in?”

I hesitated to tell him the full truth. “I had to,” I said. “It was the only sensible thing to do.”

“Sensible?”

“What I mean is, if I hadn’t, there would have been a scandal.”

“Why?”

I summoned my courage. Better to hear it from me now than from a courtier later. “Well, you didn’t exactly propose, per se. You kissed me and insinuated that we were involved with one another. I had to declare intent in order to douse any suspicions that your advances came unbidden. I did it to protect us, Raj. To protect you.”

He stared at me in dumbfounded shock. “You agreed to marry me… to become my wife… to protect our reputations?”

“If I hadn’t, the court would have pressed it upon us anyway. I chose to act with at least some degree of agency. My only regret is that you weren’t aware of what was happening.”

“You agreed to marry me,” he said again.

“Yes, did I not make that clear?”

“Do you want to marry me, Charlamaine?”

I stuttered, unable to find the right words.

His eyes were pleading. “If I had asked you last night, like a proper gentleman—like I almost did on that balcony—would you have said yes?”

In my heart of hearts, I felt that one day I would have said yes. But I also wanted more time. Time at least for a proper courtship. Perhaps a few months of letters, followed by a winter holiday spent in Valiona, culminating in an engagement the following summer. A slow, steady process to be sure, but one that would have given us plenty of time together before we had to be officially trotted out as a royal couple.

“I—I don’t know,” I finally said. “Probably not.”

He looked so crestfallen I wanted to take him into my arms and hold him. I needed to explain what I meant by that, but before I could get a word in edgewise, he said, “I see. I’m sorry it had to be this way. That you felt so helplessly boxed in by my idiocy that the only way out was to bite the bullet and marry me, abhorrent as that particular contract might be.”

“Raj, that’s not—”

“I will tell my father you wish to break the engagement.”

“No, Raj, don’t do that!” I exclaimed. “Then everyone will think I did it to save face.”

“But that is why you did it, wasn’t it?” he spat. “So then what does it matter?”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but just as I did, I heard the distinctive sound of a set of doors opening—it was the doors to my suite’s drawing room. A second set of doors opened onto the bed-chambers, but it was a short walk to get to them. Time was of the essence.

“Someone’s coming,” I said. “Quick, under the bed. Hurry! Go! Hide!” I nearly shoved him out of the covers, but he hardly fought me as he clambered out and dove underneath.

And not a moment too soon. There was a light knock on the inner doors followed by Karina’s clear voice saying, “Princess? Are you awake?”

Chapter Text

“Enter,” I said as groggily as I could, wrinkling the covers to obscure any evidence that the bed had had a second occupant just moments ago.

Karina let herself in. “Up already? That’s lucky. I would have let you sleep in, but you’ve been summoned to breakfast with the king, and he takes it early, as you know.”

“Yes,” I said, rubbing non-existent sleep out of my eyes. “It’s just as well. I wanted to be up early.”

Karina, face pinched with concern, sat on the edge of the bed. “Forgive me for prying, but the servants have been whispering all morning, and I wanted to hear the truth from your mouth. Did you… get engaged to the prince last night?”

“I did,” I said with as much dignity as I could.

“Then… why did you seem so upset last night? I thought you and His Highness were getting along swimmingly. Did something else happen? Something you’re not telling me? I did hear that the prince acted rather… unseemly. The rumor was that he was drunk.”

With the full knowledge that Raj was currently under my bed, listening to every word, I said, “I was upset because I felt guilty. He did not give me permission to declare intent at the ball. I did it of my own volition, in a moment of panic.”

“But he did ask you privately?”

“He’s made his intentions clear.” That wasn’t a lie, strictly speaking. Just as well—I was rubbish at lying to Karina.

“Oh, then I wouldn’t let it bother you too much,” she said cheerfully. “If the prince loves you half as much as I think he does, he’ll understand.” I was startled by how candidly Karina said it. He did say he loved me last night. But did he mean it? “I’m just so very happy for you, though I must admit I didn’t expect an engagement until the end of the summer at least!”

“Me either,” I said, feigning incredulity. “There is much to be done, isn’t there? I must write Mother and Father after breakfast.”

“Yes, breakfast! I’m sure that’s why the king wants to speak with you and Prince Raj so early, to discuss wedding preparations. Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s,” I said, launching myself out of bed. “Would you help me choose my day dress? I’m rather spent after last night’s festivities.”

Karina gladly obliged, moving to the wardrobe on the far side of the room and rifling through its contents. From the corner of my eye, I saw Raj shimmy out from under the bed like a mouse from its hideaway and crawl on all fours to the bedchamber doors. I spared him a desperate glance, which he returned with equal urgency, before disappearing into the drawing room and making a clean getaway.

I breathed a generous sigh of relief and turned my attention back to Karina just in time for her to face me and say, “How about this one? Such a lovely shade.”

“Yes,” I said quickly, not even bothering to examine the pale pink gown. “Perfect. That’s the one.”

***
Raj and I were the only ones invited to breakfast with the king, solidifying my assumption that this was really about the engagement and not a casual tete-a-tete.

Raj had evidently made it back to his room without difficulty, and with just enough time to get himself dressed—though his cravat was a bit crooked, if I were being honest—before entering the morning room and taking his seat to the right of the king.

“Good morning, Father,” he said, sounding despondent.

“Good morning, Raj. I trust you slept well?”

Raj threw me a nervous glance that I tried to ignore. “As well as I could.”

“I take it you know why you’re here?”

“To be reprimanded?” He looked down at his plate.

“No,” the king said slowly. “To be congratulated.”

Raj looked up at his father in alarm. “What?”

“On your engagement,” he said coolly. “Assuming last night’s declaration wasn’t some kind of embarrassing farce, in which case you would be correct to expect admonishment.”

The look he shot Raj could’ve cut glass.

Raj swallowed, and I held very still as I braced myself for how he would answer. “Of course not,” he said stiffly. “Thank you, Father.”

Well played, Your Majesty, I thought dryly. I could just see him and my parents congratulating each other on their superior matchmaking skills the next time they all saw each other. “Blackmail and thinly veiled threats, why didn’t we think of that?”

“Now, about the wedding. Have either of you discussed it much?”

“Er, well… everything has been happening so quickly, and…”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” I said, coming to Raj’s rescue. “Might I suggest a long engagement? We are in no rush, after all, and a proper courtship would assure both our kingdoms that our intentions are genuine.”

The king raised an eyebrow at me. “How long were you thinking?”

I glanced at Raj before answering, “A year.”

“A year?” The king stroked his chin. “Well, I suppose that’s reasonable. I agree, a longer engagement may indeed thwart any misconstrued rumors of scandal.”

“My thoughts exactly, Your Majesty.” Perhaps it wouldn’t feel so forced, and Raj wouldn’t feel so used, if we had a year to properly court after all. Sure, it would be in a more official and public-facing capacity, but it was better than nothing.

Despite the king’s understanding of the situation as he’d disclosed it to me, he acted as if Raj had simply proposed to me in private, asking him how and where and whether he’d had the good sense to get a ring first. Raj used the midnight terrace as his scapegoat, and plans were made to visit the royal jewelers and select an official engagement ring.

Then, just like that, breakfast was over. King Shenezade dismissed himself to attend to his first order of business, and it was just Raj and I once again, our mutually half-eaten plates of food promptly cleared away by the servants.

“Well, I’d say that went well,” I said.

Raj didn’t meet my eyes. An aura of gloom seemed to surround him and I felt suddenly ill at ease about my nonchalance.

“What is wrong?” I asked. “You seem troubled.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.” Rising from the table, he bowed formally and headed for the exit.

“Raj, wait,” I called after him, but he was already gone, and I hadn’t the fortitude to go after him.

My mind reeled with concern. I’d thought he’d be pleased by my quick thinking. Then why did he seem so downtrodden?

Does he not want to marry me after all? Surely, he feels used. I must set the record straight.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, there was a promenade with the other lords and ladies who were still in residence at the palace, followed by tea and a luncheon in the garden. Raj was not at either of these and when I asked around if anyone had seen him, no one seemed to have the foggiest idea where he was.

However, during the course of the morning, I was able to converse with Shirayuki, who brought me up to speed on what they had discovered since last night’s debacle. She had been able to deduce that the poison used was derived from a certain variety of berry used in sedatives. It removed inhibitions and made the recipient unusually bombastic, not unlike an excess of liquor but much faster-acting and more potent.

They had searched the servants’ quarters for more of the compound but had come up with nothing. Whoever had done this had covered his tracks well, and no one could corroborate the description I’d given of the servant who had poured the wine.

Mitsuhide and Kiki were currently in town, going around to local apothecary shops and asking if anyone had come in asking for, or had purchased, this particular drug. They were to report their findings by the end of the day, but I worried—as did Shirayuki and Zen—that if nothing turned up, the trail would turn cold.

We had to figure this out, no matter the cost. I could not fail Raj again.

I did not tell Shirayuki about Raj’s sleepwalking adventure—that seemed a bit intimate—but I did tell her that he did not take the news of the expedited engagement well, to the point where I feared he might actually resent me for it.

“I’m sure that’s not it,” said Shirayuki. “He can’t possibly blame you for trying to salvage a humiliating situation. Knowing him, he’s probably blaming himself.”

That is also what I suspected, but if I couldn’t speak to him, there would be no way to tell.

My afternoon was my own, so I took some time to write my parents a carefully-worded letter and then retreated to the library, hoping to find Raj there. I asked the library attendant if he’d seen the prince today, and the attendant replied that he had not. I spent an hour and a half reading in my usual nook, perking up at even the smallest sound, half-hoping it was him. But he never showed.

I returned to my rooms to prepare for supper and arrived early, dressed in my lavender evening gown with the puffed sleeves and long train. I admit I wanted to look good for Raj, but I never had the chance; he never showed up for dinner. The place to my left, his place, stayed empty for the entire course of the meal.

The king asked me if I’d seen him or spoken to him since this morning, and I confessed that I hadn’t. The same answer applied to Zen and Shirayuki, who hadn’t seen him since yesterday. I began to grow concerned—either he was ill, which was fully possible in light of recent events, or he truly was defeated after the conversation at breakfast. It wasn’t entirely unlike him to avoid unfavorable situations. I resolved to take a chance and check on him after supper had ended, but first, I needed to speak with Zen and Shirayuki. Once we were dismissed and half the nobles attending dinner retreated to the drawing room for games, I pulled them aside.

“Tell me your aides found something in town,” I said to Zen urgently.

“Yes and no,” he said. “The berry used to poison Raj isn’t one that’s sold in normal apothecary shops here—it’s illegal, actually, for obvious reasons. But one of the shops did give them the name of a black-market dealer who’s rumored to sell it, and they’ve arranged a meeting with him later tonight.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s wonderful. Not the black-market bit, but that it’s not a dead end.”

“Agreed,” said Zen.

“Are you going to be present? During the meetup?” I asked them carefully.

“In the shadows,” Zen said with a smirk. “I’m not supposed to make myself known unless absolutely necessary. Shirayuki will be with me, too—this black-market dealer thinks he’s selling, and we need someone who can identify if it’s the right stuff.”

“Godspeed,” I said. “And be careful, both of you.”

“Should we tell Raj yet?” Shirayuki asked. “We did say after the ball, but…”

I shook my head. “The ball obviously did not go quite as planned. I think he is still reeling from the shock, and I would hate to give him more to worry about now. Obviously, he hasn’t been well today. Let’s hold off for a bit longer.”

“How much longer?” Zen asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Perhaps until we have a solution to the problem at hand. That way, we can give him a sort of ‘good news, bad news’ report.”

“That sounds fine to me,” said Zen, looking to Shirayuki for confirmation.

She nodded, too. “You know him best. We’ll wait for your word.”

I knew him best. Was that really true? I certainly hoped so.

I left for Raj’s room after that, determined not to take no for an answer if he refused to see me. Even if he was sick, at least I could try to comfort him. But if he wasn’t… we needed to have a conversation either way.

I knocked on the door to his rooms and waited. There was no answer, but I heard the telltale signs of movement, and I knew he knew he’d been had. “Raj?” I called, knocking louder. Something in me came loose, and suddenly all predetermined civility flew out the window. “If you’re in there, I know you’ve been avoiding me. It’s positively immature. You’re nineteen years of age, for crying out loud, and you insist so fervently upon being treated as a man, and yet you still have the audacity to cower in your room like a spoilt child.” Now, I banged on the door. “I deserve better than this, you know! I know you’re resentful about the engagement, and rightfully so, but you haven’t even given me a chance to explain. You can’t hide forever!”

I pulled my fist back to batter the door once again, but then it flew open, and Raj was standing there, looking ruffled. I stopped mid-ram, and not a second too soon—I would have clobbered him in the face otherwise, and Lord knew he’d had enough of that recently. He wasn’t fully dressed, his white shirt halfway undone and only loosely tucked into his trousers. His hair was even more tousled than normal. It was obvious he’d hardly left his room since breakfast.

“Are you quite finished, woman?” he said. “I was asleep, for the record.”

“Asleep? Are you unwell?”

“No, I’ve been hard at work all day. Studying.”

“Studying what?” I exclaimed.

He hesitated. “How one might go about breaking a royal engagement.”

Chapter Text

I stared at Raj in dumbfounded shock. He looked nervous, as if he’d expected a very different reaction from me.

“So you have been avoiding me!” I finally exclaimed. “You are resentful!”

“No—Well, yes and no. Yes to the avoidance, no to the resentment. I was also rather tired, and overwhelmed, and not in the mood to appease the gentry. So I called in a sick day. I feel I had more than ample justification for it.”

“I suppose you did,” I said, flustered. “Won’t you talk to me, now that you’ve had time to… conduct your research?”

He opened the door wider and permitted me to enter his drawing room. I could see he had, indeed, been hard at work: books and scrolls were strewn across the table and on the floor. I had to step over a few to get to the couches, which also held piles of reading materials.

Raj brushed a few off of the seat and sat across from me. Why did this look familiar? Oh yes, because this was our orientation when he’d made his ill-conceived advance on me two years ago. And now I was the one being forthright, and he was the one looking for a way out. The irony was palpable.

“I'm sorry I avoided you,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I just didn’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just answer me this: Why are you trying to break the engagement?”

His hands gripped his knees. He didn’t meet my eyes. “Because it’s obvious you do not want it.”

I blinked, utterly nonplussed. “And you’ve deduced this yourself, have you, from how clearly and concisely I have said, ‘Raj, I do not want to be engaged to you’?”

His eyes went wide. “When I asked you if you would have consented to an engagement, you said, and I quote, ‘Probably not.’ I don’t see how it gets any clearer than that.”

“Firstly, ‘probably not’ is far from an absolute, and secondly, you didn’t—”

“Furthermore,” he held up a finger, “this morning, you asked my father for a long engagement. The reasons why can only be as follows: firstly, to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, and secondly, to allow yourself ample time in which to find an escape route, a task which I have taken the liberty of initiating as a form of penance.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. “Raj, you complete imbecile. You idiotic, self-piteous creature. How could you think so low of me? Of yourself?”

He opened his mouth to respond and shut it just as quickly. “Eh, what?”

“Raj Shenazade, if you’re going to prove you have the mettle to be a good king—and for the record, as much as I want to throttle you at the moment, I still fully believe you can—then you have got to learn not to jump to conclusions about people. Especially me.”

“Which conclusions?”

“All of them,” I said. “Why I said ‘probably not.’ Why I asked for a long engagement. Why I allowed it to happen in the first place. I didn’t have to, you know. I could have let you play the fool. But I didn’t. How could I, when such an obvious refuge presented itself?”

He blinked, now fully confused. Thankfully, this also meant he was silent. I could finally speak.

“Raj, the reason why I said both those things was not because I am against the idea as a whole. The only part of it I do not care for is how quickly and unexpectedly it has happened. Had it been up to me—and you, I surmise—we would have taken our time. Courted a while, perhaps a year. This was the best possible alternative I could offer you and myself. A year’s reprieve. To have some semblance of a real courtship.”

He stared at me, dumbfounded. Had that not occurred to him at all? “But—you still—did it in a moment of desperation, didn’t you? I still cornered you, even if I wasn’t aware that that’s what I was doing.”

“You were speaking uninhibited, yes. But you did not say anything that wasn’t true. Or that I felt came from a place of exploitation. It… wasn’t a difficult decision to make. My only regret is that you had no say in the matter. If anything, I feel as if I cornered you.”

“No, Charlie, no.” He shook his head fervently. “You did nothing wrong.”

I steepled my fingers. “Let me get this straight. You are up in arms because you believe that I do not want to be engaged to you. I am up in arms because I believe that you do not want to be engaged to me. So let us set the record straight. What do you want, Raj?”

He gaped at me, wide-eyed. For a moment, he didn’t speak. “Charlie, it’s always been you.”

He said it as if it were the truest fact he knew, that my not knowing it was akin to not knowing the ocean was blue or that grass was green. I stared at him, not quite able to process the full sincerity of such a statement.

As if realizing the same thing, he blushed crimson and averted his eyes. “Well, perhaps not always for the noblest of reasons. But even at my most contemptible, I… wanted you by my side." He looked at me now. "I didn't know how to love back then. Truth be told, I can't really claim to be good at it now. But all the same, I am in love with you, Charlie."

“Oh,” I said, breathless. Now that he was fully lucid, his love confession hit me like a gale.

“But I am not so foolish as to believe that I am entitled to anything from you as a result, not even now. Surely, you have far better prospects than me. If I were you, I would not marry me, either. You deserve better than me, Charlie. You always have. That’s why I’m looking for a way out of this: for you.”

It took a great effort to collect myself. “And what has your research concluded?”

He sighed heavily. “Short of pregnancy by another man, a preexisting engagement, or certifiable proof that one of us cannot produce heirs, there is no way to break a royal engagement.”

“Good,” I said simply. “I do not want it to break.”

He looked at me in confoundment, as if I had said something truly outrageous. “What did you just say?”

“I said, I do not want to break the engagement, Raj. Not if you don’t.”

“You mean it? Truly?”

“Yes, Raj. I would not deceive you so. I want to marry you.”

He was frozen in his spot, his posture rigid as he processed what I’d said. Then, his composure shifted, relaxing with a sense of resolution. He got up, moved around the table, and braced me on either side. Exactly as he had the summer before last, but I’ll be damned if the situation, the disposition, the air in the room was completely different, soft and comfortable and sultry.

“Say it again,” he said, his voice low. “If you’d please.”

“I want to marry you,” I said, meeting his eyes.

“Once more?"

"I want to marry you."

He closed the space between us and pressed his lips to mine, gentle, but deliberate. I took his face in my hands and held him fast, until he relaxed fully and parted his lips, letting me answer him. His hands slipped from the couch to my shoulders, then down my sides, making a chill run up my spine.

I should probably stop this now, I thought. I could feel the same headiness coming over me that I’d felt on the terrace, like mist rolling down the side of a mountain, clouding out the sky along with my sense of time and place. But it felt so wonderful to finally be on the same page after such an uneasy day, and it truly hit me then that we were engaged.

We would be married.

Raj tilted his weight to the side, and I followed, allowing him to lay me down on the settee. He climbed on top of me, his movements careful but confident. His hands did not leave my sides, though mine trailed his back and got tangled in his hair. We kissed and kissed some more, locked in place. I thought I would be more concerned with how improper this was, how mortifying it would be if someone were to catch us. But none of it seemed to matter. We were engaged to be married.

Raj pulled away first, his eyes heavy. “I must let you go,” he said.

“Must you?” I was beside myself. Far be it from me to play the temptress!

“Yes, before someone goes looking for you. Or me, for that matter.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “Besides, I… well, much like the terrace, if you don’t release me now, I might not be able to stop.”

“Stop what?” I was playing dumb—I knew to what he was referring, though I hadn’t nearly as much insight as he did. Perhaps I was the temptress after all.

“Oh, you are nothing but trouble, Charlamaine. Now you’re going to make me think about it.”

“I grant you permission to think about it.”

He turned as red as an apple as he pushed off of me. “Charlie!”

“We’re engaged.” I sat up as well and smoothed out my skirts. “It only seems fair.”

“Charlie,” he warned, leaning toward my ear, “if you knew the things I’ve thought, you’d break the engagement here and now.”

Rather than feel fear, I felt a thrill. “I dare you to give me an example.”

“Oh, don’t do that.”

“You don’t have to,” I said as comfortingly as I could. “But you can.”

He sighed, hesitated, and then said, “All right. You win. Here’s a… mild example. Every night since you’ve arrived, I either dreamt or envisioned you climbing into bed with me or vice versa. When I woke up this morning actually in your bed, I thought I would die of shame.”

“Ah, so it was not so random an act after all. It was deeply subconscious.”

“Yes.” His face was crimson. “Are you happy now?”

“It will suffice. I must say, I find it wholly innocent.”

“Well…” He looked askance. “I cannot say in good faith that it ended there.”

Now it was my turn to turn red. “No, I imagine it would be a rather odd fantasy if that were the case.”

“But don’t ask me to elaborate,” he said quickly. “I won’t. It’s too much. However…” He kissed me once more, softly, on the lips. “I grant you permission to think about it.”

Chapter Text

I did not sleep well that night, thanks in large part to the running thoughts that refused to give me reprieve. I recounted the conversation with Raj again and again in my head, not because I felt anything was amiss, but because it had been so… honest.

We’d had honest conversations before—in fact, since I’d arrived here, I couldn’t think of a single conversation we’d had that hadn’t felt honest—but this time had felt different. Intimate. The sorts of conversations two lovers had.

Love. He’d borne his soul to me, told me he’d loved me—twice, now—and it occurred to me in a terrifying rush that I had not said as much in return. Perhaps because I had not yet admitted it to myself. How could I confess it out loud if I hadn’t given myself the time to confess it within?

Of course I loved him. I would not have agreed to marry him if I didn’t. Right?

I wasn’t doing this because I felt like I had to, was I? The prospect of marrying him wasn’t only predicated on fondness… was it? Because of course, I was fond of him. Very, very fond of him. I always had been. But this summer, it had metamorphized into something deeper, something far more affectionate.

Yes, I loved him. And I would tell him so. Today.

Today, we had an appointment with the royal jeweler after breakfast. We dined with Zen, Shirayuki, and several of the other young courtiers who were still in residence, including Mihaya. I was eager to know how last night’s meet-up had gone, but I could not discuss such things openly. I decided to go for a coded approach.

“How was your evening, Lady Shirayuki?” I asked. “I heard you were looking for something in the library, a book about a specific herb. Did you find it?”

She squinted at me before picking up on my meaning. “Yes, I did,” she said. “Zen and Obi helped me find it. It was very informative.”

“That is very good to hear,” I said. “And the librarian… he was… helpful?”

“He pointed us in the right direction, yes.”

Now Raj looked in confusion from me to Shirayuki. “The Royal Librarian is a woman.”

“Oh, right, how silly of me,” I said. “I was thinking of another attendant.”

Thankfully, Raj brushed it off. “I thought by now you would’ve read every book on herbs we have in the Royal Library, Shirayuki,” he joked.

“Oh, not even close,” she said. “You have a wider selection than you think.” To me, she said, “Princess, you had asked me the other night about how to use certain medicinal herbs. Perhaps you would like to meet me in the library this afternoon and I could show you?”

“Yes, I would be most appreciative,” I said. “Noon, perhaps?”

“Lovely. I look forward to it.”

“You’re interested in medicinal herbs?” Raj said to me, incredulous. “I’ve never heard you mention it before.”

“My interest was piqued after the, ehm, incident in City Royale,” I said. “Watching Shirayuki treat our injuries with such ease made me wonder how it was done. I know that by no means could I attain her skill as an herbalist, but I thought a basic knowledge of first aid might be a valuable skill.”

“For the next time we’re in a scrape?” Raj joked. I was shocked by his levity, especially in front of the courtiers. “Don’t worry, Princess. I intend to make sure such a thing never happens again.”

“Like you did at the ball?” Mihaya piped up.

I shot a deadly glare at him. He did not look as if he’d forgotten himself—he’d meant to say exactly what he’d said.

Perhaps it had been wrong to knock him off the suspect list so quickly.

Raj didn’t speak. I could tell he was looking for a way to recover. I fretted for him. Not a single person at the table spoke, waiting to hear how he reacted.

“As I recall, I had a wonderful time at the ball,” Raj said, sipping his coffee. “I danced, I reveled, and most importantly, I got engaged to a beautiful princess.” He gestured to me. “A successful night in my book, to say the least. Anyone who would like to contradict that account, I invite them to do so now. See just how amusing I find it today.” His voice had taken on a sharp, intimidating edge as he stared Mihaya down from across the table. No one so much as moved. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

A chill went up my spine in the best way. He'd commanded the room. I knew he’d had it in him—he’d done it once in Port Town, after all. But it was one thing to command a group of merchants and fishermen in a moment of desperation. It was quite another to command a room full of one’s peers after a series of humiliating ordeals. It was terribly admirable.

It was also terribly attractive.

Mihaya laughed it off with that smarmy smile of his. I had a sudden urge to slap it off his shifty-eyed face. That wasn’t like me; I was not often prone to violence. “Of course. Congratulations, Your Highnesses, on the engagement.”

Other of the courtiers offered up the same adulations, breaking the tension cast in the room by Raj and Mihaya’s exchange. The rest of the breakfast passed without incident—though if I didn’t know any better, I would say the courtiers were more careful with their words from that moment onward.

“I’m very proud of how you handled that, Raj,” I said to him after we’d exited the dining hall. “Mihaya was out of line. You reminded them all that you are a prince indeed, and that you won’t tolerate their disrespect.”

“It will hardly help me in the long run,” he said. “Actions speak louder than words, after all. They will gossip behind my back about how I could get away with murder, the same as always. It will take more than empty threats over jam and toast to persuade them.”

Now I admired him even more. He was thinking like a leader. But I didn’t think this was a hollow victory, either. “You defended me, too,” I said. “Thank you for that.”

“If there is one thing I’ll tolerate less than an affront to my honor, it’s an affront to yours. If we are to be married, my job is to show everyone that together, we are stronger than we would be apart. A king is only as good as his queen.”

I was flattered beyond words. “You truly believe that?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “And as a royal, I’ve seen it firsthand. My father was at his best when my mother was alive. Zen is at his best with Shirayuki. Your parents complement each other perfectly. I hope… we can be the same.”

“I certainly hope so, too,” I said. Now is your chance, I thought. This was an opportune moment. “Raj, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”

“Am I in trouble again?”

I chuckled. “Not at all. It’s—”

“Your Highnesses,” someone called. It was Sakaki, heading toward us from the other side of the hall. “There you are. The king sent me to fetch you. The royal jeweler is expecting you.”

Of course. Our appointment.

“Ah, yes,” said Raj. “We were just heading that way. What were you going to say, Charlie?”

“Oh, it can wait,” I said. Perhaps now wasn’t the opportune moment. But I would not let today pass without saying it. After all, we were about to go pick out an engagement ring. If that wasn’t the pinnacle of romance, I wasn’t sure what was.

Chapter Text

I had been to the royal jeweler before; during summers past, I had taken out jewelry on loan to wear to various palace functions, including the Midsummer’s Ball. But this was a far, far different circumstance. I had always been awed by the showroom; the Shenezade family boasted some truly dazzling specimens and a good portion of the late queen’s jewels had been preserved here as well.

The royal jeweler himself, whose name was Oro, met us in the foyer. He was a small man, shorter even than I was, and he had to be ancient judging by his thin, silver hair and the wrinkles lining his face—but his eyes were so youthful and his mind so sharp, you would hardly notice.

“Your Highnesses,” he said, bowing as we entered. “Congratulations on your betrothal. I am beyond honored to assist you in selecting the engagement ring for Her Highness.” He smiled warmly at me.

“Yes, well, we would trust no one’s discerning eye but your own, Oro,” Raj said.

“It’s good to hear you say that, Your Highness. I have some options pre-selected for your review, but do feel free to peruse the collection if none are to your liking.” He led us to a round table in the center of the showroom, on top of which sat two alabaster jewelry boxes. “I hope it was not an overstep to assume that this may also be a good opportunity to discuss options for the wedding bands?”

“I’m not sure if Father’s told you yet, but the wedding isn’t for a year,” said Raj, sounding a tad peeved. Does he not want to be here? “We have time.”

“Ah, but never too early to start thinking about it. Time, after all, has a way of passing quickly when you least want it to.” He stood on the other side of the table, facing us. “It seems only yesterday His Majesty and his bride were here, picking out their wedding rings.”

Raj stiffened beside me. “My—my mother?”

“Yes, the queen, God rest her soul. They would’ve been about your age. Younger, even. Your father was so nervous he dropped her band when he tried to slide it on her finger to test the fit. We spent fifteen minutes combing the floor looking for it. The future king and his bride, on hands and knees. She found it first, of course. Awful proud of herself, too.”

“My father? Nervous? And clumsy? I doubt that highly,” said Raj, lifting his chin. “You must be misremembering.”

“I remember everything that happens in this room, Your Highness,” the jeweler answered. “But if the story doesn’t please you, forget I even mentioned it and accept my humble apologies.”

One look on Raj’s face told me he wasn’t going to forget this story. In fact, it was likely that he would keep thinking about it for the rest of the day. I, for one, believed Oro, so I couldn’t help but imagine the king as a nervous, accident-prone young man.

Perhaps he and Raj were not so different after all. Would it kill the man to tell his son and heir that? To show him that he understood—that he’d been like Raj once? Perhaps it was something he’d rather forget. Or, like many adults, perhaps it was something he had forgotten without realizing it.

“First, the engagement rings,” said Oro, opening the first alabaster box. Three rings sat nestled on the blue velvet inside, lined up in a perfect row like stars in a constellation. The first one was a large, white diamond, round cut, set in gold, with smaller diamonds on the band. A classic choice.

“The first one is too plain,” Raj declared. “You can take that out.”

“What if I like it best?” I teased.

“Oh—right. Ehm, what do you think of the ring, Princess?”

“It’s very nice, but not my style.”

“Too plain,” Raj reiterated.

I shot him a look and turned back to the box. The next one was a dark amethyst, princess cut, set in gold with ornate detailing on the band. It was lovely and would match many of the things I owned.

“It’s the same color as her hair,” Raj said. “No, no. We want it to stand out.”

“Raj, you’re speaking for me again.” Nonetheless, his particular nature was amusing.

“Right. Sorry. Do you want it to stand out?”

“It is a lovely stone, but yes, I do try to avoid matching my hair. It’s an entity unto itself.”

“See? I know you better than you think I do, Charlie.”

I rolled my eyes even though it was deeply flattering.

The last one in the row was a sapphire, oval cut, set in silver with diamonds surrounding it and lighter blue stones on the band. It was breathtakingly beautiful and reminded me of the gown I’d worn at the ball. Standing out wouldn’t be a problem, either—it was much larger than the other stones. But there was something missing. I couldn’t put my finger on what.

“Third time’s the charm,” said Raj. “This must be the one.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too… much?”

“It’s a statement piece. And we are, if nothing else, making a statement, are we not?”

I rolled my eyes again. It was his style: gaudy, over-the-top, and ornate. “Well, since you seem so attuned to my tastes, you tell me if you think it’s the right ring for me.”

He took a step back and observed my expression. Then, he observed the ring. After a moment’s deliberation, he sighed. “No. You’re right. It isn’t.”

“Excellent intuition, Raj. Bravo.”

He glared at me.

“Not to worry,” said Oro. “There is a fourth option, selected by the king himself.”

“The king?” Raj looked worried.

Oro produced a small, circular box from his coat. It looked like a tufted pillow. He placed it on the table and opened it. It was a teardrop shaped stone in a color I’d never seen before: blue green, the color of the sea. It was set in rose gold filigree with tiny diamonds and sapphires encircling the band like a bejeweled music box. It was elegant, yet delicate.

“What sort of stone is that?” I asked. “A sapphire?”

“A blue topaz, Your Highness,” Oro replied.

I looked up at him in shock. “Topaz can be blue?”

“Yes, and it was mined right here in Tanbarun, in the mountains. This ring is very special, you see. Technically, it belongs to you, Prince Raj, regardless of whether you choose it today.”

“Me?” Raj was mesmerized by the ring, too.

“It was the ring your father gave to your mother when he proposed. And it was his father’s before that. I believe it is tradition at this point to bequeath it to the first-born son, with the intention—but not the obligation—of giving it to his future bride.”

“My mother’s ring.” Raj looked up at me in awe. “What do you think of it, Charlie?”

“I think that, even if it hadn’t been your mother’s, this would be the one,” I said. “But the fact that it is an heirloom makes it even more special. I would be honored to wear it.”

“That settles it, then,” said Raj, looking at Oro. “This is the one.”

“Excellent choice, Your Highnesses. Let us test the fit.” He handed the box to Raj, who took it so gingerly one would think it might be made of sand.

Raj looked up, petrified, and shoved the box toward me. “You do it, Charlie. I don’t want to drop it.”

I gently pushed it back to him. “I trust you, Raj. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be able to say you were less nervous and clumsy than your own father under the same circumstances?”

“I still doubt the efficacy of that story,” he mumbled, taking the ring from the box and holding it tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Swallowing, he looked at Oro. “Am I supposed to make a gesture?”

“You may do whatever you’d like, Your Highness.”

He turned back to me, looking resolved. “Ch-Charlamaine of Valiona, I know I haven’t made things easy for you. I’m not an easy person to love. I expect nothing from you other than your c-continued support. But I hope that, come what may, I can become a husband that you can be p-proud of.”

I hadn’t quite expected that. I wasn’t ready with an answer. The proper response would be to tell him that I loved him and that of course I would be proud of him, but all words fled my lips as he slid the ring onto my finger. It was too small and stopped above my second knuckle. That further halted any rational response as I blushed profusely.

Raj huffed. “Well, dash it all. My mother must have had tiny hands.”

I laughed, pulling the ring off and handing it to the jeweler. “I believe it will need to be resized.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said Oro. He took my measurements and told us the ring would be ready by the end of the day. We forewent looking at any wedding bands in the meantime—at Raj’s behest—and left feeling both affirmed and, in my case at least, a bit embarrassed.

Chapter Text

In the hall, another of Zen’s aides—the cat-eyed young man named Obi—materialized from seemingly nowhere and approached us. I had barely seen him since the rescue from City Royale; I had assumed he was a manservant, but given his scarcity and the way he carried himself, I now had an entirely different theory. He was Zen’s spy.

“Obi,” Raj said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a message for Her Highness,” he said, bowing. When he rose, he handed me a folded piece of parchment. “From the master.”

A note from Zen? It had to be about the conspiracy. I quickly pocketed it, making a mental note to read it when I was alone. “Ah, yes, thank you, Obi. And I don’t believe I’ve had a chance to properly thank you for getting us out of that wretched club the other day. It feels like a lifetime ago at this point, but we’re very grateful.”

Obi grinned in a wry, lopsided way. “It was no trouble. Probably the easiest extraction I’ve ever done.”

“Yes, and it would do you well to forget it ever happened,” Raj said, likely recalling his incriminating state of dress.

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. I have a terrible memory. Club? What club?”

“That’s more like it.”

Obi bowed again and disappeared through a side door, likely a servant’s entrance, quiet as a ghost. “What an odd person,” I noted.

“Clever as a cat, loyal as a dog,” said Raj. “The man is a walking contradiction.”

A walking contradiction who had just handed me a very important message.

Raj glanced at me as we walked. I could feel the questions building. For all Obi’s subtlety, why did he have to give me the message with Raj right beside me? “What sort of message could Zen possibly have given you?”

“Oh, we had gotten into a conversation at the ball about, ehm, Clarines and its exports. I’d asked for some figures and he’d promised to give them to me. That must be it. There would be no other reason.”

“Clarines exports? First Shirayuki and her herbs, now Zen and his… exports. Your interests sure are broad lately.”

“Well, I’ve also been making an effort to get to know your friends,” I said. Finally, something I could say that wasn’t a lie. “They’re important to you, so, I want them to be important to me, too.”

“Well, that’s… very noble of you.” He looked flattered. “I’m glad you’re getting along with them so well.”

“I am, too,” I said, and a beat of suspended silence passed between us that I feared would rouse his suspicions. “Well,” I said as naturally as possible. “I should return to my rooms and… write my parents a letter. I’ve put it off for far too long.”

“Yes,” said Raj. “I recommend you do that.” He took my hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed it. “Will I see you this afternoon?”

“Perhaps,” I said, trying for coy. He hadn’t let go of my hand yet and part of me didn’t want him to, even as the other part of me knew Zen’s note was burning a hole in my pocket.

He surprised me by pulling me close to him, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pressing the side of his face to mine, his lips brushing my ear. “Say I will,” he said.

“You will,” I said, breathless.

With a quick glance around the empty hall, he pulled me behind one of the marble pillars that lined this part of the palace and pressed his lips to my cheek, tracing a path from my ear down my jawline to my neck. Though I knew the pillar wasn’t sufficient cover should someone come looking for us, I didn’t care enough to stop. These moments were rare, and would become rarer as the engagement grew more public.

I looked around one more time and, seeing the coast was clear, took Raj’s face in my hands and directed him to my lips. He drank me in like I was a fine wine, and I responded in kind. His back faced the pillar, and in a moment of unprecedented boldness, I pushed him against it to intensify the kiss, running my hands down his chest.

Somehow, they ended up bracing his hips, which surprised me as much as it did him. It was at that point that he pulled back, breathing hard, his hands on my waist and his forehead pressed against mine.

“This is not good,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No, I don’t mean…” He chuckled uneasily. “I mean, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to wait a year for you.”

“Is this normal?” I asked, my eyes shut against the pounding in my ears.

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “And it’s a very good sign, so I’m told, when two people are to be married.”

I pressed my head to his chest. “I feel I might need to lie down. Get my bearings.”

“Of course,” he said, rubbing my back. “Do whatever you need to do, Charlie. And I’ll never rush you, I hope you know that.”

“I’m more concerned about me rushing you,” I mumbled.

“Impossible.”

I scoffed, releasing myself from him before I lost the self-discipline to let go. “I—I will see you this afternoon.”

“That’s right,” he said, turning up his nose in a playful, ironic way. “You will.” He turned and walked away, and it took a moment of composure before I felt like I could move.

When the coast was clear, I took out Zen’s note and unfolded the piece of parchment.

Library. Natural Sciences Section. Noon.

I located the nearest hallway clock: it was a quarter to eleven. I had just enough time to go back to my room—and, as I’d told Raj, write my parents a letter—before I met Zen in the library. Whatever it was, it had to be related to the investigation and last night’s meeting with the black market dealer.

I was very eager to discover what they’d found.

***

As instructed, I located the Natural Sciences section of the library—in the back on the first floor—and found Zen and Shirayuki waiting for me there, Zen’s two attendants loitering at the far end of the stack. Obi, the spy, was nowhere to be seen. Most likely by design.

“Well?” I said, not bothering with formalities. “How did the meeting go?”

“Good and bad, depending on how you look at it. Turns out, we were right about a noble conspiracy. This black-market dealer, he was chatty, which worked in Kiki and Mitsuhide’s favor. He insinuated that he’d had dealings with nobility before. He figured the true ‘buyer’—me—was waiting in the wings and didn’t want to be seen. He asked if I was, ‘Another silver spoon not wanting to get his hands dirty.’”

“So the buyer who poisoned Raj—he’s likely someone at court.”

“Most likely.” Zen nodded gravely. “But there’s more.”

I waited for him to continue.

“After our business concluded, Obi tracked the man back to his headquarters. Guess where he rests his head? At a room in The Palace, the very place we rescued the two of you from.”

“So the underground is in on it, too,” I said, stupefied. “Just how tangled is this web?”

“It seems to me like a collaboration,” said Shirayuki. “I bet a noble with some kind of vendetta against Raj approached the underground with a plan and promised them financial support in exchange for the resources needed to take him down. Hence the tomato incident at Port Town and the kidnapping in City Royale.”

“Which could have been prevented had we not been foolish enough to venture there alone,” I said, forlorn
.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Princess,” said Zen. “You didn’t know you were being targeted. They probably didn’t expect an opportunity like that either, but if you hadn’t shown up in City Royale, they would have found another way to slander him, I guarantee you.”

“But what could they possibly hope to gain through all this?” I exclaimed. “All they’re doing is humiliating him, which yes, is bad enough on its own, but not exactly grounds for dethronement. His reputation could survive yet. What will they do, throw tomatoes at him for the entirety of his reign?”

“That brings us to another piece of bad news,” said Zen. “If the incident at the Midsummer’s Ball taught us anything, it’s that there’s now someone on the inside. The incidents are likely to escalate, and until we catch who is responsible, we have no way of knowing when or where they might happen next.”

“But you’re right, Charlamaine,” said Shirayuki. “It’s hard to know what, exactly, the end game is.”

“I fear it may have something to do with me,” I said, staring into the middle distance. “Not to make myself the centerpiece, but it was just something Mihaya said to me at the ball. About how what I did would determine how he was perceived.”

“Right,” said Zen. “How half the court thought you’d marry him, and the other half thought you’d ruin him.”

“It makes one wonder which side the conspiracy is on, and if so, what the benefit would be.”

“Well, think about it for a minute,” said Shirayuki. “If you’re right, and this is about you and Raj, then everything that’s happened so far would point towards an intention to push you two apart, wouldn’t you say? After all, who would want to align themselves with a prince who is so openly ridiculed?”

“But it’s only done the opposite,” I said. “Everything that’s happened has only served to bring us together.”

“Which means they’ll be reevaluating their tactics,” said Zen. “And formulating a new plan.”

“It won’t work,” I said. “I won’t let them come between us. We will find them, and crush them, before they can do any more damage. Perhaps, if we’re very careful, Raj will never have to know about this at all. He can think it was just a series of embarrassing, but isolated, incidents.”

“Can’t I, now?” said a voice I knew all too well.

Oh, no. It can’t be.

But of course, it was.

Raj had found us.

Chapter Text

We all turned as Raj rounded the corner on the opposite end of the stacks, the side unguarded by Mitsuhide and Kiki. His arms were crossed over his chest and his expression was one of annoyance, as if he were about to scold his siblings for impudence.

“Raj,” I said, flushed with shame. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d kill some time in the library before I rang for tea,” he said, his voice quipped and defensive. “Imagine my shock when I heard voices at the far end of the stacks. Sound carries remarkably well in the library, after all.”

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” Shirayuki said.

“Everything that mattered,” he replied, staring her down disapprovingly. I’d never seen him look at her with anything but admiration. “You three… colluding behind my back, keeping secrets from me, investigating a conspiracy that has nothing to do with any of you—”

“That is not entirely true,” I said. “If you heard everything, then you know I—”

“Besides the point,” he said. “It’s my neck on the line, and you didn’t even think to involve me.”

“We were going to,” I protested. “But after everything that happened at the ball, and the engagement—”

“Which you initiated as a form of protection,” he said in distress. “Because you thought there was something unsavory afoot. Do you know how disingenuous that makes it seem?”

“Raj, you know I want to marry you. I said so.”

“How do I know it wasn’t another lie to protect my feelings?” he exclaimed. “Because I’m so fragile? Because I’m so weak, I can’t even be trusted to handle the news of a court conspiracy?”

“That’s not why,” I said firmly.

“Then why?” he demanded.

“You’ve been under enough pressure lately as it is,” I said gently. “We were just trying to time it right. So you weren’t overwhelmed.”

“Oh, I see. After all the praise you’ve showered me with, insisting I’m so very strong and brave and capable, you had to tiptoe around me out of fear that I’d crumble under the stress. Yes, that is so very different from my understanding of it.”

“You are strong and brave and capable—”

“Then treat me like it!” he shouted. His voice echoed through the high-ceilinged room. “Or else be honest and tell me I’m weak and powerless, like everyone else seems to believe. But whatever you do, Princess, I beg of you: do not coddle me. Do not lie to me.”

I opened and closed my mouth, stunned. I’d never made him angry, not like this. Even though I hadn’t meant to, I knew now that I’d hit him too close to the heart, to the root of his insecurities. God, here I was, thinking I’d been protecting him… and all I’d done was hurt him.

“You’re still growing,” I said, tears brimming in my eyes. “And you’ve grown so much already, Raj, I hope you believe that. But you’re still impulsive, quick to jump to conclusions, and you still lack confidence in your own authority. You can’t just close your eyes and hope this goes away—it needs to be dealt with. But I believe you can deal with it, Raj. You have that potential.”

“But not now,” he said sourly. “Not at this moment.”

“Not necessarily—”

“Do. Not. Lie. To. Me.”

“No,” I said, feeling defeated. “Not at this moment.”

His fists balled at his sides. “I knew it,” he said.

“But—”

“Say no more,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “I might be too weak to bear it.”

“Raj, you know that’s not how we think,” Shirayuki scolded. “If you don’t want others to pity you, then stop pitying yourself.”

He looked up at her, his eyes now brimming. After a moment, he winced and looked away. “I forbid the three of you from investigating this matter any further,” he said. “That goes for your attendants as well, Zen. Cease all activity, effective immediately.”

“Raj,” I said firmly. “You know that’s not the solution.”

“You said I lack confidence in my own authority,” he said. “Well, I’m confident now. None of you will put yourselves at risk for my sake. Especially you, Charlamaine.”

“But we’re your friends,” I implored. “We want to help.”

He balled his fists again. “If any of you had come to me as an equal, and told me your thoughts, then I would have gladly accepted your help.”

“Then accept it now,” said Zen. “Let us make it up to you.”

For a moment, Raj seemed to consider it. But whatever he concluded caused him to stonewall, and his jaw set with that unmistakable royal pride. “Cease all involvement with this conspiracy,” he said. “Zen and Shirayuki, you have my leave to return to Clarines.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Shirayuki.

“It’s not a command, only an invitation,” he said. “However, if you can’t stay here without sniffing around, then it’s probably best if you leave. And as for you, my fiancé…” His eyes were painted with sadness as he turned them to me. “Perhaps it’s best if you make plans to return to Valiona.”

“Raj,” I said, flabbergasted. “Please, don’t do this. You’re blowing things out of proportion.”

He took a deep breath. “I promise… if you do this for me… I won’t be angry with you.”

“Perhaps not, but I will be angry with you.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Be angry. Be offended. Be whatever you want. Just be honest.”

That is when he walked away, and we listened in silence as his footsteps receded from the library until they were too far away to hear.

“My God,” I said. “I had no idea he would take it that hard.”

“Just give him some time,” said Zen. “His pride is wounded, that’s all.”

“This is all my fault,” I said. “At first, I wanted nothing more than to tell him, but the longer I put it off, the harder it became. What was I afraid of?”

“You were just trying to protect him,” said Shirayuki, staring off into the middle distance. “But sometimes, even when our intentions are noble, we end up doing more harm than good. Zen’s right, though: he’ll come around. You’ll see.”

I wanted to believe her, but somehow, I wasn’t so sure.
***
Raj did not come around, not for the rest of the day at least. He avoided me like the plague; so much for seeing each other later that afternoon, I supposed. All the tenderness of that morning now felt soured by this new development. I knew I should have told him; he had been within his rights to say I’d treated him the opposite of what I’d been telling him he was. But his reaction was a bit to the extreme; he was hurt, and when he was hurt, he lashed out in overexaggerated ways.

I had to put an end to this, and quickly, before he did something he’d regret.

When he didn’t appear at dinner, my mind was made up. I went to his chambers directly after, just as I had the other night—but instead of assuming he was upset, this time I knew for a fact he was. I knocked heavily on the door and said, “Raj, you must listen to me. I will not leave until you do.”

No answer. No matter; if he wished to be petty, I would not indulge it.

“I know you’re hurt, and angry, but this is not the way to fix things. You cannot just hide behind a closed door and shut everyone else out every time something doesn’t go your way!”

Still no response. Not even a rustle of movement. He must really be determined to avoid me.

“You are proving them right by acting this way,” I said. “I do not want them to be proven right. I want to see you reach your potential, but that cannot happen if you don’t rise to the occasion! Which does not involve sending everyone who could possibly help you, who cares deeply for you, away!”

Silence.

“Damn you, Raj Shenazade, if you loved me you would at least listen to me!” I pressed my forehead against the door. “At least, you would accept my apology. Because I am sorry, Raj. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

Still, nothing. It was suffocating, to be ignored so—a shard of ice through the heart. I pressed my ear against the door, straining to listen for any signs of life. I began to think that perhaps it was suspiciously quiet.

Something hadn’t… happened to him, had it?

My worry overrode my caution. I broke the rules of etiquette and opened the door to peer inside. “Raj?” I called.

No answer.

I entered the drawing-room fully. There were still books and charts strewn everywhere, but no sign of Raj. If he was in here, then he would’ve come out by now, demanding I leave. I moved slowly, my heart pounding, to the bedchambers. He wasn’t in the bed, but his clothing was strewn across the floor—the same thing he’d been wearing earlier that day. It looked as if he’d dressed hastily for bed, except, of course, he wasn’t in bed.

I began to put the puzzle pieces together slowly, the dread building. I moved to the secret passageway in the wall, the one we had used to slip out into City Royale. The door, when closed properly, sat completely flush with the wall. But I could see the seam, jutting out just slightly from the frame.

Raj was gone. He’d left the palace, no doubt to take matters into his own hands.

Which was exactly what I hadn’t wanted to happen.

Chapter Text

My first inclination was to follow Raj through the secret passageway, but remembering how badly that had turned out the last time, I turned to my second inclination: I went directly to Shirayuki’s room and knocked on the door until she answered, looking shocked to see me. After all, princesses don’t knock on palace guests' doors.

“Raj is gone,” I said in a rush. “He’s fled the palace.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

Kiki, who was in the room with her, appeared in the doorway. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Where he could have gone or what he intended to do, I did not know. For all I knew, he could be hiding in the gardens, sulking. But just as easily, he could have gone to town in a hair-brained attempt to take matters into his own hands. Oh, please don’t be the latter.

“I don’t want to raise any alarms,” I said. “Not yet. Will you fetch Zen and help me look for him?”

Shirayuki nodded, and we moved down the hall to Zen’s quarters. She knocked on his door with more ferocity than I had knocked on hers. Mitsuhide answered and Shirayuki pushed herself into the room without so much as a “hello.” In the drawing room of Zen’s suite, Zen and Obi were in the midst of a chess match. They both looked surprised to see us standing there.

“Raj is gone,” Shirayuki said.

Zen shot to his feet. “What? How?”

“There’s a secret passage in his chambers,” I said. “It’s… how we snuck out of the palace in the first place. The king must not know about it or surely he would have barred it.”

“That moron,” Zen grumbled, wringing an imaginary neck. “What does he think he’s doing?”

“And has anybody thought to alert Sakaki?” Mitsuhide asked from where he leaned against a pillar, Kiki beside him.

“Go fetch him,” Zen said, nodding in Mitsuhide’s direction. “If he’s not already out looking.” He turned to Obi. “Scout the grounds. See if you can spot either of them.”

Obi stood and saluted, ready to leave, but not before moving a piece on the chess board and declaring, “Checkmate.”

Zen looked at the board in disbelief. “What?”

But Obi was already gone, having climbed out the nearest window and disappeared over the railing.

“That son of a—” Zen paused, composed himself, and turned to me. “You don’t think he’s left the palace grounds, do you?”

“That would all depend on how long ago he escaped,” I said. “And even if he did, I don’t know where he’d go. I didn’t want to think he’d be quite stupid enough to go back to City Royale by himself after what happened. He’s a walking target.”

“He might be a moron, but even he isn’t that stupid,” Zen said thoughtfully. “If he did make it that far, he would’ve disguised himself.”

“It did seem evident that he’d changed before he’d gone,” I said.

“I think I should go to town, head him off in case he’s either heading that way or there already,” Zen said, snatching up his cloak from where it hung across the chair. “You two stay here and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Shirayuki said at the same time I began to protest, “Now hold on just a minute—”

“We’re coming with you,” we said in unison, and then looked at each other in mutual surprise.

“I’m not putting my or the Crown Prince’s fiancé in harm’s way,” he said. “We don’t know what kind of trouble Raj has gotten into.”

“Maybe none,” I said. “Or maybe a world of it. Either way, I refuse to be kept back. I caused this mess and by God, I’ll be the one to fix it.”

“And you of all people should know I’m more than capable of defending myself,” Shirayuki said, a fire in her eyes. “So drop the chivalric act. We’re going.”

Zen, to his credit, knew when he was outnumbered. He looked to Kiki in a last-ditch effort for help, but she only shrugged. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But Kiki stays with you, and if she or any of us tell you to run, you run. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” said Shirayuki, all sweetness again.

We went back to Shirayuki’s room and Kiki left to find us some good disguises. I felt an unexpected surge of excitement at the prospect of conducting a rescue, even if there was a chance that Raj hadn't left the palace grounds. Deep within me, I doubted that highly. There had been a mighty determined look in his eye last I'd seen him, a look I knew too well. Whatever he planned to do, I doubted it would be smart.

Our disguises would be those of simple travelers; Kiki managed to find riding clothes that included breeches and yet looked to have been made for women; I suspected they came from her own wardrobe. Thus dressed, we convened with Zen in the great hall. Kiki led us through the servants’ passages to the stables, where we mounted horses—Shirayuki with Kiki and myself with Zen, at his behest—and then we were off through the palace grounds, onto the road that led to City Royale.

Once we were within city limits, I realized what a monolithic task we had set ourselves with; Raj could be anywhere or nowhere. It was really nothing more than a hunch that led us here, and I realized with a knot of dread that was responsible for that hunch.

“We should split up,” Zen said. “Your Highness, where do you suggest we look first?”

I swallowed hard, thinking back to when Raj and I had come here the first time. “I think at least one of us should go to the Palace,” I said. Raj would've overheard us talking about it in the library, though it would be a very dangerous place for him to revisit. “It’s possible he may also have gone to the port, though I fear that’s less likely. Other than that… I’m not sure.”

“Kiki and Shirayuki, you go to the port,” Zen said. “The princess and I will check the Palace. If no one’s found him in three hours, meet back here at the square. If you run into trouble… you know what to do.”

It was certainly nice to have someone leading this expedition who knew what they were doing. Zen’s confidence was fortifying; I actually believed we’d find Raj tonight, and that we’d bring him home in one piece. All the better, since once we did have him, several people—myself included—would want to tear him a new one.

“I should ask: are you comfortable going back to the Palace, Princess?” Zen asked me.

“Yes,” I said definitively. “It shall be somewhat gratifying, going back of my own free will and with some measure of authority. I’m not afraid of those charlatans.”

Zen chuckled. “Spoken like a true princess. Alright, then. Let’s go rescue your prince.”

Chapter Text

It turned out that The Palace was on the outskirts of the entertainment district, tucked away in an alley between two ramshackle buildings and completely unassuming at first glance. Since they seemed very secretive about their location, I asked Zen how they’d been able to find it the first time.

“Let’s just say there were some… persuasive tactics,” he answered vaguely.

We did not encounter guards as we descended the staircase to the club’s inner sanctuary, and then I realized how eerily quiet it was; shouldn’t the sounds of revelry and debauchery be audible from here? It wasn’t until we entered the main floor that it became clear: the place was completely empty. A few sconces on the walls illuminated the upturned tables and pushed-back chairs, but otherwise, it looked abandoned.

“Did you expect this?” I asked Zen. It hadn’t occurred to me that perhaps our rescue had incited a full-out evacuation.

“Kind of,” Zen replied. “We had no legal authority to shut this place down, but we certainly tore it apart. I thought it might be… less popular after that. But not empty.”

“Is that a light over there?” I asked, pointing to the hallway on the opposite side of the room, where Raj and I had been escorted during our initial visit.

Zen drew his sword. “Let’s find out. Stay behind me, please.”

I obliged him as we crossed the room to the hallway. Indeed, the door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar and spilled yellow light onto the walls and dusty floor. Zen and I approached it cautiously, his sword shielding us, and he pushed the door open with his free hand.

Madame Simca, the club’s owner, sat at a desk made of ebony wood, writing on parchment. She was still dressed glamorously, as if the club were soon to open, but she looked tired, older. When she looked up at us, there was no surprise in her eyes, only annoyance—as if this had been an appointment and we’d arrived late.

“Well, if it isn’t the little silver-haired devil,” she said, continuing to write. “And the princess-in-residence. To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?”

“What happened here?” Zen asked, his tone almost sympathetic.

Simca looked up at him with sharp eyes. “What do you think? For fifty years, this club’s location has been a well-kept secret. For fifty years, it was a haven for the city’s undesired. That was its appeal. That was its glory. Then you barge in with two dozen palace guards and destroy half a century of caution. It couldn’t survive after that. The Palace is dead.”

“It’s no less than you deserve,” Zen replied, the sympathy evaporated.

“Perhaps,” she said and went back to writing. “But you’re not here out of curiosity, are you?”

“We’re looking for Raj,” I said, finally finding my voice. “Have you seen him? Has he been here?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps not. But why should I tell two palace brats where another, even worse, palace brat has been? Haven’t you all caused enough trouble already?”

Zen extended his sword, the tip of it stopping only inches from Simca’s face. “Because I can cause even more trouble, if you'd like.”

Now she looked up, actual surprise in her clear, blue eyes. Then, she laughed—but I caught an edge of nervousness to it. “You princes, always claiming to be so noble. But in the end, you’re just like the rest of us. The only difference is that we own up to it.”

“Was Raj here or not?” Zen said, teeth clenched. The sword’s tip pressed against Simca’s neck.

“Zen,” I said softly, “she’s already defeated.”

“Which means she has nothing left to lose.”

"Exactly." I couldn’t believe I was standing up for this vile woman. But I put my hand on Zen’s sword arm and applied light pressure, encouraging him to lower it. “Let’s not prove her right about us, yes?”

Reluctantly, Zen lowered his sword and sheathed it. I took a step forward, looking Simca in the eye. “What you did to us was cruel and humiliating—but I never believed you wished us physical harm. You’re an entertainer, not a murderer.”

Simca smiled, though her eyes remained hard as diamonds. “Smart little princess.”

“But there are people who actually wish Raj harm, aren’t there? The underground doesn’t like him, sure, but they never like royals. In fact, it probably gives you some measure of satisfaction to see him do foolish things—it doesn’t make you hate him.”

“Correct so far,” said Simca. “Do you have a point?”

“Yes. Whoever truly hates Raj—whoever wants him out of the picture—is one of us. A noble, or God forbid, a royal. This person has hired criminals to lay the groundwork: destroy his reputation, make him look unpopular, et cetera. He was poisoned in his own home. He’s being psychologically tortured. I don’t know what the end game is, but it wasn’t conceived by petty thieves and marauders. This is court politics. And most of you—those who run businesses, who deal underhand—want no part of it. Because when the hammer comes down—
and trust me, it will come down—it will come down on you. That’s this person’s goal. To frame the underground, to make them look like the perpetrators.”

Simca gave me her full attention now, hands clasped together on the desk, eyes sharp. “Very clever deductions, little princess.”

“Which is why you’re going to tell us if Raj was here and if you have any idea where he went,” I said. “Because if something were to happen to him tonight—God forbid—it won’t be a nobleman who takes the blame. It will be you.”

Now Simca smiled. “He was here,” she said. “With that handsome bodyguard of his.”

“Thank God, Sakaki was with him,” Zen said. “This may not be so bad after all.”

“They came here looking for the apothecary,” I said. “But he was long gone by then, wasn’t he?”

“He’d just packed up and left this morning,” Simca sighed. “My last tenant, finally giving up on me. I will tell you what I told him: while I have done business with the man in the past, I do not concern myself with his other dealings, especially when they coincide with nobles.”

“But you had an idea of where he might’ve gone,” I noted.

“Yes, he mentioned something about a room in the fish market district of Port Town,” she said. “Bragged about how he’d be able to get rare imports smuggled in via fish. Always talking, that one. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been caught yet.”

“That’s it then,” I said to Zen. “Port Town.”

“Let’s go,” said Zen, exiting the room with a flourish.

I turned to Madame Simca and curtsied. “Thank you, Madame. I’m sure you will agree that this conversation never happened and that as far as I or my compatriots are concerned, you do not exist. If this conspiracy comes to light, I will forget your name entirely.”

“How gracious of Your Highness,” said Simca, inclining her head.

I turned to leave, but then she said, “Princess.” I faced her again, cautious. “Don’t lose your head.”

I smiled, nodded, and left The Palace for good.

Chapter Text

The ride to Port Town was brisk, making unfathomably good time on the road thanks to Zen’s horse and our collective sense of haste. Once we were in Port Town, however, it became apparent that finding Raj here would take much more finesse than a fast horse.

It was completely dark by this point, and not many people were out on the docks or in the streets; just a few dock workers unloading late-night cargo by lamplight while other townsfolk made their way to the nearest pub, or home to sleep.

We were out of place, even in disguise. When Zen asked one of the dock workers where the fish market was, he laughed at us, saying it was long over by now as if we didn’t know how markets worked. After Zen insisted curtly that yes, he knew that, and our business was our own, the worker provided directions that turned out to be quite helpful.

The fish market was a ghost town, with empty stalls lined up in two rows along the boardwalk. The innermost row backed up to buildings, most of them several stories tall. This seemed promising, so I searched the upper row of windows for light. There were several, which was disconcerting. We’d have to knock on doors and narrow it down—time-consuming, and hardly heroic. We needed a better plan.

“Think for a second,” said Zen. “How did they get here?”

“On horses, like us?” I guessed.

“So, look for horses. Do you think you could recognize Raj or Sakaki’s horse?”

“Easily,” I said. “Provided they took them. But even if they didn’t… I think identifying any palace horse would be easy for the discerning eye.”

There were no horses tied up in front of the buildings, so we cut through an alleyway to the backside, and sure enough, there were two fine-looking horses tied to a hitching post about halfway down; one speckled, the other bay. I recognized them, if only by their bearing—if I wasn’t mistaken, they were usually ridden by guards.

“Through here,” Zen said, already ducking through an unlocked backdoor. We appeared to be in the storage room of a dry goods store, but there was a staircase that led straight up to the second floor. Zen went first, drawing his sword. Kiki had given me a dagger, and though I was no master swordswoman, I drew it anyway for security.

There were two doors at the top of the landing. Zen pressed his ear to one and shook his head. Empty. The other, however, elicited a head nod. I joined him, pressing my ear to the door to listen, both curious and apprehensive.

“—I’m telling you, I don’t know who he was. A nobleman, I suppose.” This voice belonged to an older man, no doubt the apothecary. “My clients don’t tend to recommend themselves by name.”

“But surely you remember something about him.” This was Raj’s voice, and he sounded agitated. “Height, build, distinguishing features. Anything.”

“He was cloaked. Hooded. Again, they tend to conceal their identities well. If the man I dealt with was even the final recipient—it could have been a middleman for all I know. That’s common. Most nobles wouldn’t dare deal with me directly.”

“All right, then. Describe this middleman.”

“I suppose he was of average height and build. His cloak was dark blue. No, purple. Very dark purple. Perhaps black.”

“It’s either blue, purple, or black. It cannot be all three.”

“Purple, then. Black riding boots. He rode a black stallion. He might as well have been a piece of the night itself.”

“Very poetic. What else? Think, man! Did he say anything? Did anything stand out about him?”

“No, he was very nondescript. He spoke few words. The usual words. ‘Are you him?’ ‘Do you have it?’ ‘Show it to me.’ ‘Thank you for your business.’ These exchanges don’t tend to run long.”

“And you’re certain you had no idea your elixir would be used to poison the prince?”

“Not at all! I never know what they intend these things for; well, I assume nefarious purposes, but I never ask! It’s unprofessional!”

“What a morally upright criminal you are.”

“Well, there is a level of propriety that separates the dregs from—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass how righteous you think you are. This is high treason we’re talking about. Your neck is on the line if you can’t give me more information.”

I had to hand it to Raj: he was coming off far more intimidating than I'd expected.

“I don’t know anything else, I swear!”

“How did he pay you?”

“Gold coin, of course. Tanbarunian gold. Made a point of saying so, though I always check it myself—one can never be too careful, you know.”

“He made a point of saying so? And you didn’t think to mention that?”

“I just remembered!”

“Sakaki, make him remember more.”

The creaking of the floor signified that Sakaki had advanced upon the apothecary—who was likely tied to a chair—but before he could do anything, the man cried out, “Wait! Wait! There is one more thing.”

“Do tell.”

“An accent. Just the slightest touch of an accent. I have a very sharp ear for these things, you see, having been so many places and met so many people—”

“Get on with it!”

“He tried to hide it, I think. But I suspected he wasn’t from Tanbarun, not originally. Or perhaps he’d lived abroad for a while. I didn’t ask. It would’ve been—”

“Unprofessional. I get it. But you’re certain?”

“Very certain. His vowels—he couldn’t always hide the long vowels.”

“If you had to guess where he was from, what would you say?”

“North. Valiona, perhaps.”

I stumbled away from the door, shocked. The apothecary could very well be wrong, but what if he was right? What if one of my people were behind this? It didn’t make much sense; Tanbarun and Valiona had always been on amiable terms and my parents had always sought an alliance—soon to be realized if Raj actually married me. There was no political reason I could think of why anyone from the Valionian court would oppose the match… but then again, if there was anything I’d learned this summer, it was that appearances could be very deceiving.

“Thank you. You have been quite helpful,” Raj was saying. “You may keep your neck today, but speak of this to anyone, and this good man right here—” there was a muffled pat that I imagined was Raj clapping Sakaki on the shoulder “—will make quick work of you.”

“Wait, aren’t you going to untie me?”

“So you can follow us? I think not. I’m sure someone will find you in the morning.”

My, my, Raj. How ruthless of you. I could tell he’d had no intention of harming the man, though—not unless he had to.

“Looks like they have it handled,” Zen whispered. “Should we wait outside?”

Before I could decide, the door opened and Raj stepped out, looking triumphant. He was dressed in traveler’s garb with a scarf covering his nose and mouth and a hood over his head. But there was no mistaking those green eyes, especially when they saw me and widened considerably.

“Charlie? Zen?” he exclaimed, lowering the hood. “What are you—How did you—?”

Sakaki had just closed the door behind him. “I told you you were easy to track, sir.”

“Indeed,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “And if wasn’t so impressed by what I just heard, I’d be tearing you a new one right about now for being such a fool.”

“I—Well—You see—” He was still blustering. “You were eavesdropping? You heard it all?”

“The majority of it.” I let some of my bravado slip. “You don’t actually think—”

“Charlie, I implore you, go home,” said Raj urgently, brushing past me into the stairwell. “You too, Zen. My trail leads me back to the palace anyway. You needn’t worry about me disappearing into the night again.”

“I can help you,” I said as the rest of us followed him. “If the conspirator really is Valionian, don’t you think I have the most direct connection?”

“There’s no proof that he or she is Valionian,” he said. “Just the middleman.”

“You want to deny it,” I said. “Because if you don’t, then… that means I’m a suspect. And seeing as though your opinion of me is already less than great at the moment, I imagine you’re having a hard time not considering it.”

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, isn’t that what they say?”

“Yes. It is. But then what would it gain me to become engaged to you?”

“Remove yourself from suspicion further. Win my trust. Then, break it off to humiliate me and my kingdom the more. Or, worse yet: marry me and undermine me from within.”

So he had considered it. I was appalled, but I forced myself to stay calm. “And what do I gain from that?”

“All the riches of Tanbarun and none of the shame.”

“If that’s true, then it seems an awfully long con with far more sacrifice on my end than reward.”

“Oh, that’s quite flattering, thank you very much.”

“Raj.” I turned him to face me. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you believe me to be that conniving.”

“I don’t want to believe it,” he said. “But I mustn’t let my biases rule out the possibility. I’m sorry, but you are guilty until proven innocent.”

“Then so am I, right?” said Zen. “And everyone else at court who isn’t from Tanbarun. You’d better do your research before you start burning bridges.”

“Don’t talk to me about research,” Raj said, marching up to Zen. “Who was it that tracked down the apothecary tonight, hm? And got more information out of him?”

Zen crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. “And who found the idiot who tracked down the apothecary, who, by the way, was going off of information his friends had already attained?”

“Listen here—”

“Will you end this pissing contest, please?” I exclaimed. “Raj, you were very resourceful tonight, but that doesn’t mean you must do everything on your own.”

“I’m not on my own, I have Sakaki.”

The aide had been standing close to the back door, waiting for this nonsense to run its course. “I think it’s time we called it a night, Your Highness.”

“Right.”

But then, the back door slammed shut behind Sakaki. He instantly turned and started pulling on the handle, but it was locked from the outside. He began to throw his weight into it. Zen joined him.

“Your Highnesses, get out of here!” Sakaki shouted.

But the door to the front of the shop was locked, too—and recently at that. Someone had thrown something inside the room with us, a spherical object that looked a bit like a cannonball. Greenish smoke filled the room rapidly, and Raj turned to me in panic, clamping his hand over my mouth and nose. The gas was too powerful, though, whatever it was. I felt my consciousness slipping away, and then, there was nothing but darkness.

Chapter Text

I woke to a dry throat, a pounding head, and a stinging in my eyes like I’d inhaled vinegar. Everything swayed around me, a dizziness that seemed somehow familiar. I was in some kind of cell, I realized. A grate of metal bars surrounded me on three sides. Underneath me and to my back were wooden planks.

Oh, no, I thought. This… is a ship.

That would explain the swaying.

“Charlie!” Raj appeared in my line of vision, his hands going to either side of my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Charlie, are you all right? Say something!”

“Quite the elaborate ruse I’ve planned,” I slurred. “Kidnapping myself.”

“Oh, insufferable princess.” He pulled me to his chest, which was alarming and comforting all at once. “I know this wasn’t you.”

I could hear his heartbeat pounding its way through his chest as if it were trapped. He must’ve woken long before me and, understandably, panicked. “Where are we?” I asked, pulling back to get a better view of what was obviously a brig.

“If I’m not mistaken, the HMS Dragonfire,” Raj said joylessly.

“Your ship?”

“Now I suppose I’m a suspect, eh?” His attempt at mirth fell flat.

“It means it could be anyone at court! It means whoever it is, they followed us and are probably on this ship as we speak! Has anyone come down here?”

“Not a one,” said Raj.

“Where are Zen and Sakaki?”

“I have no idea. They weren’t here in the brig when I woke up. Either they’re being held somewhere else or they were left behind. We were obviously the intended targets.”

“Both of us? Or one of us?”

Raj’s face contorted with anguish. “This is why I didn’t want anyone else getting involved.”

“This is exactly why I’m glad I did.”

He glared at me, which I ignored. “In any case, I’m getting you out of here.”

“How?” I gestured around us. “Are you suddenly a master escape artist?”

“It’s my ship,” he said, standing and moving to the door of the cell. “I should be able to think of something.”

“Spent a lot of time in the brig, did you?”

“It was part of the tour.” He grasped the bars by both hands and shook it bodily, but alas, it was of sturdy enough construction to resist such a manhandling. He sighed. “I should’ve learned lockpicking.”

“What a failure of a prince you are.”

He glowered at me. Then, he turned back to the door and shouted, “I demand that our captor show himself at once! Face us, you insolent coward! Let me insult you properly!”

This did not goad our captor on like Raj hoped it would, though he repeated the attempt several times. It wasn’t until an hour later that a man came down to the brig, but he was no one I recognized—he looked like any other sailor, rough around the edges, with dark clothing and a bandana tied around his head.

“You squawk worse than a parrot, boy,” he said to Raj.

“Do you have the slightest idea to whom you are speaking?” Raj said, drawing himself up to his full height.

“Oh, I know, all right. And I don’t care. You’re a sniveling bilge rat if ever there was one.”

“Who are you? What do you want with us?”

The man spread his hands in placation. “Not for me to say. I’m just a man for hire. Boss says I’m to bring you up to the deck.”

Man for hire? I came up next to Raj, concerned that a trip to the deck would have no return. That was where they made prisoners walk the plank, was it not? “What will you do with him?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, princess? Not to worry; you get to stay here, safe and sound.” He unlocked the cell door and grabbed Raj by the arm.

I grabbed the other arm just as quickly. “No! You cannot take him! If he dies, I die!”

The man moved to grab me and push me away, but Raj stepped between us and put up a hand. “Touch her and you’ll be sorry.”

Small and generally unthreatening as Raj was, his tone held enough conviction that the man paused. Raj turned to me. “Charlie, let me go.”

“No. Don’t be a hero, Raj.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Charlie. It wasn’t fair of me. And I’m sorry I shut you out. A lot of good it did me to keep you safe. Perhaps this will.”

“Raj,” I warned. “If you die for me, I’ll kill you.”

“I always knew you’d be the death of me.” He pried his arm out of my grasp and put a hand to my face. “Whatever happens, Charlie… be strong. And be true to yourself.”

“I love you,” I said before I could let the moment pass—possibly the last moment I’d ever have to tell him. “And I always will.”

His eyes widened. "You mean it?"

I nodded, a bittersweet mix of emotions swirling through me. He kissed me, sweet and full of longing, just before the mercenary towed him out of the cell and shut the door.

“Such dramatics,” the man said as he herded Raj up the stairs, possibly to his doom. “Are all young people such saps?”

“Just the ones possibly facing certain death at the hands of ruthless mercenaries,” I heard Raj say.

The man harrumphed. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, on deck...

Well, it appears I might die today. I suppose there are worse ways to die—sickly and old, having accomplished nothing. Or with a knife in the back after making too many enemies. Or… well, drowning didn’t sound so great either, but at least there was a chance I could save Charlie in the process.

That was my plan, at any rate. Stall. Look for a way out. Look for a way to signal a rescue. Even if I didn’t survive, she might. I could live with that.

Heh, what an ironic turn of phrase.

The tactless mercenary led me to the main deck, where midmorning sunlight blinded my vision before I got my bearings. There were about half a dozen other men on the ship, the minimum for this ship’s crew. Nothing but the ocean surrounded us; they must have made good time in the night. What had happened to Zen and Sakaki? Did anyone know we were missing yet?

Oh, confound it all. What had I done last time? Rallied an armada? That was obviously out of the question. Everything I’d done last time—all those so-called heroics—were completely inapplicable to this situation, which made me feel utterly pathetic. Perhaps it hadn’t been so impressive after all; I’d had it easy then. I’d had my kingdom, my allies, the benefit of not being the abductee. I was powerless now. Truly useless.

“Up there,” the mercenary said, prodding me towards the quarterdeck. Now, that was odd, wasn’t it? Unless he planned to toss me headlong into the ship’s wake. I gulped at the thought.

“If you know who I am then surely we can make some sort of arrangement,” I said. “Who are you working for? Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“Move it,” he said, and reluctantly, I climbed the steps to the quarterdeck. He hadn’t bound me with anything, so I supposed I could run, but where would I go? “Take the helm.”

“What?” I turned, certain I’d heard him wrong. “Take the helm? Why?”

“Just do it, princey. I haven’t got all day. And keep her steady on. Our course is set.”

The current helmsman stepped aside and I took his place, utterly confused. “So… you’re not going to kill me?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” said the man, picking at his nails with a short knife.

“Then what am I doing here, steering my ship against my will? Am I being coerced into piracy? Because I won’t stand for it!”

“Just shut up and man the helm,” said the man, pointing the knife at me. "Any trouble, and it'll mean harm to the princess. You wouldn't want that, would you, lover boy?"

I truly didn't. Confound it, it had been a mistake to reveal her as my weakness. Then again... she loved me. Sure, she'd only said it because she thought I might die, but it didn't make it any less true, did it? I hoped not. If I lived through this, I'd ask her again. And if she said yes, I'd never again make the foolish mistake of letting her go.

Without much else to do but comply with the mercenary's demands, I manned the helm and tried to puzzle out what could be going on. If they weren’t going to kill me, then what was the plan? Oh, Charlie would be sick with worry down in the brig, thinking I’d been tossed overboard. I wanted her to know I was all right, just terribly confused. But for her sake, I wouldn't make a fuss.

An hour passed before anything changed. The crewman in the crow’s nest called out, “Sails, off the portside stern!”

I turned to look behind me and sure enough, a white-sailed ship had appeared on the horizon, gaining fast. “Ha!” I said to the mercenary, who had remained close by with his knife and piercing glare. “Good luck outrunning a Tanbarunian naval vessel! What a stupid plan this was!”

“Quiet,” said the mercenary, seemingly unbothered by the ship’s appearance. “Steady on. Whatever happens, you stay at that helm.”

Confusion continued to reign supreme as the other ship closed the distance between us and came up alongside the Dragonfire. Grappling hooks flew and made purchase with the gunwale, linking the two ships together. A gangplank was set down across the space between and the other crew began to board.

Most were Tanbarunian soldiers in their green uniforms, though there were also a few in deep purple—Valiona’s colors. That was a bit odd. Charlie hadn’t brought any soldiers with her…

But her brother, Crown Prince Lander, had. And he was here. He crossed the gangplank and landed squarely on the deck with a grim expression on his face. Other than their hair color and general properness, I’d never thought he and Charlie were very much alike. Perhaps it was because, unlike Charlie, he’d never tolerated me.

Ah yes, back when I’d judged people’s likeability on whether or not they bowed to my whims. Obviously, he was here to rescue his sister, and I couldn’t be more grateful. For once, we had some common ground.

I waved at him from the helm. “Prince Lander! You found us!” The mercenary, thankfully, only gave me a look.

The soldiers had begun searching the ship and the mercenaries, wisely, did little to fight them off. Two of the Valionian soldiers climbed the steps to the quarterdeck but instead of apprehending the mercenary like I’d assumed they would, they grabbed me and wrenched me away from the helm, holding me fast.

“Now wait a second,” I said. “What are you apprehending me for? I’m a victim!”

“Your Highness,” called one of the soldiers from the main deck. “We’ve found the princess. She’s being held in the brig.”

The prince marched up to the quarterdeck with the expression of a man on a warpath but before I could get a word in edgewise, he punched me square in the face. In the face! I was too gobsmacked to say much other than to spout expletives, which certainly didn’t do much for my dignity.

“Prince Raj Shenezade of Tanbarun, by the authority of the kingdom of Valiona, you are under arrest,” said Prince Lander with agitated fervor. “For the kidnapping of Princess Charlemaine.”

Chapter Text

Despite my futile efforts to rip the door off its hinges, I knew there wasn’t much I could do inside the cell other than to pace and to pray. An hour or so passed before I heard sounds coming from the upper deck—the sorts of sounds that made one hopeful of rescue.

And indeed, a few moments later, two guards dressed in Valionian violet entered the brig and spotted me. “Go tell His Highness,” one said to the other, and the second guard flew back up the stairs while the first approached me.

“What’s happening? Are we being rescued?” I asked. “Where is Raj?”

“Your brother, the Crown Prince, has apprehended your captor,” said the guard, magically producing a key and unlocking the prison cell. “You’re safe now, Your Highness.”

“Wonderful, but where is Raj?” I asked. “Is he safe?”

“Safely in custody,” said the guard, leading me back up the stairs.

The words themselves didn’t quite register, only the relief that overwhelmed me as I realized that he was still alive. It wasn’t until we reached the main deck and I saw him rounded up with the rest of the mercenary crew, his mouth gagged and hands tied behind his back, that I began to think more critically.

“Charlamaine,” said my brother, approaching me from the left. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“Yes. No. I mean, yes, I am fine, no, I am not hurt. Why is Raj over there?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He tried to kidnap you. He was going to take you to some uncharted island and do God-knows-what with you. But it’s all right. You’re safe now.”

I stared at my brother, waiting for him to indicate that it was a jest. When he didn’t, I guffawed and said, “That’s preposterous! These mercenaries took us hostage! They ambushed us at Port Town! Listen to me, Lander, there’s a conspiracy going on. Someone of high standing has been sabotaging Raj and pinning it on the criminal underground. I suspect that whoever hired these men is a noble. Tanbarunian perhaps, but possibly even Valionian based on the evidence. Do you have any idea why a member of our court would want to break this alliance? It would do nothing but strengthen both kingdoms!”

Lander laughed. “I wouldn’t be so naïve, Charlamaine. There is always someone who stands to lose something in an alliance. But that’s not the issue here. The real perpetrator here is your so-called betrothed, who has taken drastic measures to ensure that you can never leave him. Look at the facts, sister. This is his ship. He was at the helm when we boarded. He’s deceived you.”

“Raj is not capable of such a deception,” I said. “And even if he were, I do not see why he would need to go to such great lengths. I am already betrothed to him.”

“He deceived you for many years into thinking he was your friend, did he not?” Lander said. “And I watched you delude yourself into believing it was true. Do you really think that so much can change in a year? He’s the same as he ever was. A selfish, conniving, slimy little brat. He’s just figured out how to conceal it more effectively.”

I balled my fists at my sides. “You’re wrong.”

“He means to ruin you, Charlamaine, and our kingdom. Don’t you see that? What has happened since you arrived here? You’ve been thrust into trouble, into dangerous situations that no princess should have to face. Humiliated, ridiculed, brought to his level. He’s coerced you into a marriage alliance. He insulted your honor in front of his entire court. How do you know that was on accident? How do you know he was even drugged, as you claim?”

“There’s evidence,” I said, my voice hard. “Unlike your claims.”

“Not so,” said Lander. “The royal investigator found the drug in question—Fool’s Berry, I believe it is called—in the prince’s chambers. This, along with other pieces of evidence, is what led the king to give me permission to pursue and capture the prince in the first place.”

“It was planted,” I said immediately. “And there is no way the king would arrest his own son.”

“Isn’t there? Has he not caused His Majesty enough trouble already?”

I thought back to the conversation with the king after Raj had been poisoned, how I had hoped he’d stand up for his son but was disappointed to find that he still didn’t fully trust him. But would he take such extreme action against his heir?

“Take me back to Shenezade Castle, then,” I said firmly. “I will speak to the king on this matter myself.”

“No, Charlamaine, don’t you understand? When we return to port, we’re going home to Valiona. The entourage will already be waiting. You’re never to step foot inside that castle again, for your own safety. Not to mention for Valiona’s sake.”

“You cannot break my engagement to Raj,” I said. “Not without my consent.”

“Oh, I don’t need your consent. The bylaws of our kingdom state that in the case of an incompatible match, the king and king’s council can nullify the engagement by unanimous vote. I have already written to Father and I expect that by the time we return to Valiona, the vote will already have been cast and you will be free.”

“Free to do what, exactly?” I shouted. “More diplomacy lessons?”

“Free to make a better match,” Lander said firmly. “One that won’t ruin Valiona’s good standing or surrender power to another kingdom. Mother and Father have always been soft towards Tanbarun but they don’t realize how much larger and more powerful it is than our tiny country. We would be the losers.”

There’s always someone who stands to lose something in an alliance. Suddenly, it all came together like a painting finally completed. Except the finished picture wasn’t so pleasant. “It’s you,” I said. “You’re the noble who’s been behind all this! You! My own brother!”

Lander’s expression turned grave. “Everything I do, I do with the best interests of our kingdom at heart. You don’t understand, Charlamaine, just how much sacrifice goes into running a kingdom. You couldn’t understand because you will never run one. Your job as a princess is to make sure everything you do counteracts that sacrifice. That means you do not stoop. That means you do not allow anyone to take power from you.”

“Like you’re doing right now?” I spat, surging with vitriol. I couldn’t believe I’d been so blind.

Lander scowled. “Where is your sense of loyalty? Of duty? I am your brother and one day, I will be your king.”

“Sooner rather than later?” I sneered.

“I can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” he said. “I will wait my turn, just like any other responsible heir. But in the meantime, I will do what I can to ensure our family’s legacy thrives.”

“By throwing me to the wolves?” I cried. “This is madness! There is no better match for me than Raj.”

“I beg to differ,” said Lander. “You will marry a prince from another of our neighbors—I’ve been in conversation with the king of Durgess, and—”

“Durgess!” I exclaimed. Durgess was a small country to our northeast, cold and overburdened with mountain ranges. “What does Durgess have to offer us?”

“Do not worry yourself with that,” said Lander. “Just trust that this is the better outcome.”

“For you,” I said, daggers in my eyes.

Lander said nothing, turning instead to the Valionian soldiers. “Escort the princess to the captain’s quarters and keep her safe. This has been a most trying day for her.”

It certainly had, and while I didn't fight the soldiers when they led me away, inside I was seething with anger and remorse. My own brother, plotting to ruin Raj, to sever our connections to Tanbarun! And for what? For power? For pride? It was nothing but political poppycock. I had to find a way out of this. I had to.

Somehow.

Chapter Text

Oh, how I wished I possessed the cunning to concoct and enact some elaborate coup before we made port. But alas, though the heat of my rage felt potent enough to melt iron bars, it was not enough to suddenly turn me into some unstoppable force. Lander and his men stayed aboard the HMS Dragonfire back to Port Town, following the ship in which they had pursued us, and I was powerless to stop it.

I didn’t speak, either. I had nothing to say. Lander tried several times to console me, to get me to see things his way, but I gave him the silent treatment each time, shooting daggers from my eyes instead.

“One day, you will understand,” he said coldly, and left it at that.

Once docked, the guards escorted a resigned Raj, hands bound behind his back, to the gangplank. He threw me a glance over his shoulder as they passed, his eyes wild with the same desperation that swirled through me like a maelstrom.

“Wait,” I said, scrambling for an excuse. “Can’t I have a final word with him? He is my fiancé, after all.”

The guards paused with Raj in tow, looking to Lander for his verdict. He looked more annoyed than concerned. “If you must.”

I approached him slowly, intentionally stalling for as much time as possible. But one could only walk so slowly. When I finally closed the distance, I met his eyes, wide with apprehension and curiosity, and said, “They will not keep us apart.”

His throat bobbed. “Charlie.”

I grabbed his face and kissed him for all to see, kissed him as if our lives depended on it. I didn't let go, even when Lander scowled in disgust and exclaimed, “That’s enough! Stop making a fool of yourself."

Neither of us listened, not until the guards pulled Raj away and continued down the gangplank. It wasn’t until they were at the end of the dock that I was finally prompted to disembark, Lander trailing close behind as if anything less than constant surveillance would encourage me to make a break for it.

No, even I wasn’t that stupid. I knew I wouldn’t get very far.

Two carriages awaited on the boardwalk: one was Tanbarunian, obviously meant to transport Raj back to the palace. The other was part of Lander’s entourage, intended to convey me back to Valiona. Oh, how I wished for a broken carriage wheel or a lame horse! But I imagined that would hardly deter Lander from his aims.

As much as I loathed the idea of giving up, there was a part of me that thought perhaps it was best if I complied for now, at least until we were home and I could plead my case with Mother and Father. Surely, they would understand if I explained just how much I cared for Raj. They had married as much for love as for advantage; surely, they remembered just how much that mattered.

Diplomacy would have to win the day. And was that not what a princess was meant to do?

It wasn’t until we were almost to the carriage that I remembered something else. If I couldn’t save myself or Raj, at least I could save our friends. “Wait!” I cried, turning to face Lander.

He rubbed his temples as if I were an impertinent child who refused to go to bed. “No, you do not get to have any more ‘last words’ with His Highness.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask. But if you want me to come quietly, I have some terms.”

“You’re hardly in a position to negotiate, Charlamaine.”

“Oh, but I think I am. After all, if I’m to be a pawn in your schemes, wouldn’t you rather I comply? Otherwise, I could make your life exceedingly difficult. And trust me, brother, when I say that nothing would give me more pleasure than to make your life difficult.”

He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I want you to release Sakaki and Zen.”

“Who?”

“Sakaki, Raj’s aide, and Prince Zen of Clarines. They were with us in that room when you knocked us out. Wherever you hid them, you ought to let them go. Unless, of course, you wish to incur the wrath of Clarines. I’m sure Crown Prince Izana would be simply thrilled to hear how his brother has been treated abroad.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. There was no one else in that room.” He turned to his guards for confirmation, who nodded stoically. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re just stalling, aren’t you? Stop wasting time. We’re going home.”

No sooner had I taken a step forward than an arrow came out of nowhere, whizzing past Lander’s head and finding its mark in the side of the Valionian carriage. Lander ducked, though the danger was long past, and drew his sword as he stood, shouting, “We’re under attack!”

Chaos ensued as the guards rushed to protect us, the majority shielding Lander while two guards took me by the arms and began towing me away. Another arrow flew by. I struggled as my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and despite the madness around me (or perhaps because of it,) I realized that this might be a very real chance for me to escape... if I could get away from these guards.

“Let me go! Unhand me at once!” I tried to wrench an arm free, but I was no match for an armed soldier. 

Then, the one on my left said, “It’s okay, just relax,” in an unexpectedly feminine voice. A voice I somewhat recognized. I stopped struggling long enough to meet the eyes of the guard who had spoken, the only part of the face visible through the armor. They were a striking emerald green, alight with determination.

“Shirayuki?” I whispered.

“In the flesh.” She nodded once.

I looked closely at the other guard now. “Kiki?”

“What a twist, right?” the lady knight replied.

I realized now that they were leading me in the direction of the Tanbarunian carriage. Arrows continued to appear from thin air, flying in Lander’s direction, but they had yet to hit their mark. As livid as I was at my brother, I didn’t want to see him get shot. At least, not fatally.

“We have to do something!” I said. “My brother—”

“None of the arrows will touch him,” said Kiki calmly. “He was given specific instructions to miss on purpose.”

“Who?”

“Obi, of course. And trust me, if he wanted to hit him, he’d be dead by now. Obi doesn’t miss.”

Slowly, I began to put two and two together. “This is all a ruse?”

“It’s a rescue!” Shirayuki exclaimed happily.

We’d reached the Tanbarunian carriage, sitting untouched and unguarded on the other side of the wharf. Kiki opened the door and the girls nearly hoisted me inside. I slammed into a very surprised Raj, who screeched, “What in the hell is going on here?”

Shirayuki climbed in after us and shut the door, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bench and removing her helmet to shake out her rose-red hair. With a laugh that bordered on manic, she said, “Payback, Raj Shenazade! Sweet, sweet payback!”

Chapter Text

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Shirayuki,” Raj said, shoved awkwardly into the corner of the carriage. His hands, I realized, were still bound. I took him by the arm and turned his back toward me so I could work at the knot. “What just happened?”

Shirayuki sighed and said, “Kiki and I were searching Port Town for you when we saw a group of men leaving a storeroom to load up the HMS Dragonfire. We thought that might be suspicious, but it wasn’t until we inspected the room and found Sakaki and Zen in a cellar did we put two and two together.”

Seeing that I was getting nowhere with the knot, Shirayuki passed me a dagger, hilt first. I took it graciously and cut the rope binding Raj’s hands.

“That led you to put two and two together?” Raj asked, rubbing his wrists.

“Well, no, not until they woke up and we got the full story: that you four had been trapped in that room with some kind of knock-out gas, and they’d found the cellar door with the intention of hiding you two in there, but then Sakaki passed out and fell in and then Zen went after him, and the door closed, and they were trapped until we found them. By then, the two of you had already been stowed aboard the Dragonfire.”

“And then?” I prompted, because that hardly explained it all.

“Sakaki was the one who figured out you’d been taken out to sea, of course, and we were in the process of finding a ship to go after you in when Prince Lander showed up with his guards. At first, we were going to join up with him, but Obi intercepted us. He’d been tracking Lander since he left the palace and he’d overheard his plan. So we hatched our own plan. It was Zen’s, mostly: two of us sneak aboard and disguise as guards, while the rest wait for the ships to return and prepare to ambush them. And what do you know? It worked!”

I was so engrossed in this unbelievable tale that I’d hardly noticed the carriage had started moving. “Who’s driving right now?” I asked.

“Sakaki and Kiki. Zen went to track down Mitsuhide. They’ll meet us at the border.”

“The border?” Raj squawked. “Which border?”

“The border of Tanbarun and Clarines, of course!”

“Clarines?” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” Shirayuki said resolutely. “You’re seeking asylum in Zen’s court. Right? Unless you’d rather be carted off back to Valiona to marry some stuffy old windbag while Raj gets locked in a high tower.”

“Locked in a high tower?” Raj squeaked.

“I’m exaggerating, of course, but seriously, you guys. What other options do you have?”

Now presented with the full picture, I had to take a moment to process what a monumentally risky endeavor this was. Our friends had rescued us, for which I was indescribably relieved; no escape plan I could have conjured would have been this successful, not in my wildest imaginings. I’d never known what it was to have allies before, let alone friends. Our fates truly would have been sealed without them. And yet, we were not out of the woods yet.

“Lander’s forces will be right at our heels,” I said. “Not to mention the whole of Tanbarun’s when Raj’s father hears about this. We’ll never make it past Libes.”

“We’re not going through Libes,” said Shirayuki. “Zen and Mitsuhide are, to throw them off our scent. We’re going through the mountains.”

“The mountains?” Raj squalled. “Are you crazy? It takes twice as long and is twice as dangerous!”

“Which is exactly why it’s the perfect place to lose any pursuers. We’ll have to ditch the carriage in the next town and go on horseback, of course, and when we get to the pass we’ll have to go on foot. But once the Lions are made aware of our presence they’ll come to us, too.”

“Lions?” Raj screeched.

“Not real lions, Raj. The Lions of the Mountain. My father’s tribe. Come on, keep up.”

“Oh.” Raj relaxed a little. “Right. I haven’t had any correspondence from them in a while. I suppose no news is good news?”

“They promised to keep out of trouble.” Shirayuki shrugged. “So, I’d assume so, yes.”

Now I was intrigued. I’d heard of the Lions of the Mountain and their vigilante tendencies, but I wasn’t aware that they and Shirayuki were connected. “We’re going to meet your father?”

“Yes,” she said, a bit guarded. “He’s the leader of the Lions. I only learned that fact myself last year. I’d mostly assumed he was dead, like my mother.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what else to say.

“Don’t be. My grandparents raised me, and he insists they did a better job than they ever could. I’m grateful to him for this much: if he hadn’t left me in the city, I might’ve never become an herbalist, and Raj never would have heard of me, and I never would have run away, and then I would never have met Zen or be where I am today. Funny how life works out.”

“Yes, indeed,” I said cautiously.

“So, let me get this straight: step one is to make it to the mountains at all,” said Raj. “Which, if I’m not mistaken, is a day’s journey from Port Town at least. Then, step two is to make it to the mountain pass without falling and breaking our necks, God forbid. Then, and only then, can we expect to be welcomed by a group of anti-establishment ruffians headed by your absentee father.”

“Correct,” Shirayuki said cheerfully.

“And how long will our gracious hosts be willing to house a couple of royal runaways, pray, tell? Assuming they’re totally at ease with being drawn into a political conspiracy that has nothing, whatsoever, to do with them, and that might just bring unwanted trouble to their doorstep?”

Shirayuki sighed. “You make a fair point. I have every confidence we’ll make it to the mountain, and as for the Lions—don’t worry about them. They’ll be willing to help. After all, you did rescue their leader’s daughter once. They owe you a favor.”

Raj snorted. “I suppose they do.”

“We’ll stay just long enough to rest and restock, and then we’ll make our way down the mountain to the Clarines border,” she continued. “That’s where Zen and Mitsuhide will hopefully be waiting to escort us to the palace.”

“Provided they don’t get caught,” Raj said.

“You know Zen. He’s turned evading authority figures into an art form.”

“A righteous habit for a royal.” However, Raj no longer appeared tense or skeptical, which was more than I could say for myself. “This is either bravery or madness, Shirayuki. If we’re caught, we all might be locked in a high tower.”

“Then it’s simple,” she said. “We don’t get caught.”

Chapter Text

To my utter surprise (and relief), we did not end up in a high-speed carriage chase with the Valionian royal guard; going due north through Port Town’s labyrinthian streets worked to our advantage, though we all paid dearly for it in terms of how badly we were jostled about within the cabin.

At the edge of town, we switched carriages with a very confounded farmer about to load up his cart with crates of eggs and produce. With every assurance that he’d be reimbursed for his wagon, we left him the Tanbarunian carriage and insisted that if anyone asked, he found it on the side of the road, abandoned.

Thus we continued under a much less conspicuous guise, travelling north by northeast until nightfall, where we stopped at a roadside inn called, ironically, The Lion’s Den.

As we exited the cart amidst much stretching of limbs and popping of joints (for of course, there were no cushions inside a horse cart), Sakaki announced that this was where he would be leaving us.

“What?” Raj exclaimed. “You choose now of all times to set boundaries?”

“I can do you more good if I head off whoever’s chasing you and lead them away,” he said. “I can tell them I was on your trail until getting locked in the cellar. I can even say that Prince Zen is the one who locked me in there, though do apologize to His Highness for the false accusation. At the very least, I can stall for time until you get to Clarines.”

“Why?” Raj asked. “Why are you doing this? Father will be furious if he finds out you aided me. He could have you beheaded!”

“With all due respect, His Majesty can be as angry as he wants. I’m your aide,” he said. He crouched down to Raj’s level—though Raj was tall, Sakaki was much taller—and dared a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “I have stood by your side through some truly heinous acts of depravity,” he said. “I would have stood by your side through a lifetime of depravity. Do you want to know why?”

“Because it’s your job?” Raj ventured.

“Because I promised your mother on her deathbed that I would look after you.”

Raj looked stricken. Quite obviously, Sakaki had never spoken to him this way before.

“‘Watch over him like your own blood,’ she said to me. ‘He needs guidance. His father loves him, but he will be too burdened by the crown and too grieved that I am gone to do it properly. Please, Sakaki, I know it’s not your place, but try to love him.’”

Raj looked more than stricken, now; he’d gone quite red in the face.

“But I never had to try, you see,” said Sakaki. “You were always my foolish little brother on the verge of ruin, in need of a guiding hand. Of course, I could never say that. There was very little I could say. But now, here you are, trying to make things right, and you didn’t need me for that, did you? You needed her.” Now he motioned to me. “You’ve grown into yourself, Your Highness. You’ve grown into a good man. And while I would have done anything for you regardless of that, now I can feel right about it. I can feel like I kept my promise to your mother.” He straightened. “All that to say, if it takes breaking a few rules to make sure you stay on the right path—that you stay with her—I’d consider it an honor to do so. I do consider it an honor, sir.”

There were tears streaming down Raj’s face, though he hadn’t moved, had barely appeared to breathe. After a very long beat of silence, he opened his mouth and shouted, “Sakaki, that is the most I’ve ever heard you talk at one time! How dare you take advantage of that fact to wax sentimental on me? How dare you? How dare you?” Sobbing, he embraced his aide. “My mother didn’t really say that to you, did she, you damnable bastard?”

Sakaki smiled—another first, at least as far as I was concerned—and embracing Raj back, said, “Yes, she did. I swear on my life.”

“I hate you.”

“I know, sir.”

Pulling back and wiping his face with both sleeves as if banishing all unprincely emotion to the ground, he said, “Well, what are you still doing here? If you’re going to leave, then leave!”

Sakaki smiled, bowed, and walked off toward the stables.

Raj glanced at me as if realizing for the first time that I’d witnessed the conversation. “Can you believe him? The nerve of that man.”

“The nerve,” I agreed, unable to keep myself from smiling. In the past, I might’ve scoffed at the notion of a royal servant speaking so plainly to their superior, but I found I now lacked the haughtiness necessary to condemn it. I would have to tell Karina how much I appreciated her, when and if I saw her again. I realized with a sharp pang of guilt that she was probably beside herself with worry.

An idea sprung to my mind. I hurried after Sakaki, calling his name until he turned to face me. “Yes, Princess?”

“If you return to the palace, will you find a way to tell Karina that I’m alright? Disclose as much or as little as you feel she can handle; but since she has been kept so in the dark, I think it will ease her mind to know I’m alive and well.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

As he bowed and turned to leave once again, I said, “I also think you ought not to sell yourself short.”

“Highness?”

“I think you helped Raj more than you realize. Without you, he would’ve had no one looking out for him. That makes a difference, I’d say.”

He gave me half a smile and bowed again. “I appreciate that.”

Thus relieved of my concerns, I took my leave and caught up with the rest of the group inside the inn. Kiki had just paid the innkeeper and handed Raj a key as I approached him.

“We’re in luck,” she said. “Only two rooms left, and we got them.”

“Two rooms?” I inquired. “One bed each?”

“Big enough for two people,” Kiki offered. “Shirayuki and I will take one and you and Raj can take the other. Unless you’d rather someone else bunk with Raj?”

I felt my face go rather warm as Raj said, “I think not. Charlie and I can manage just fine as bunkmates.”

“I would hope so, since for all intents and purposes you two are newlyweds on your honeymoon,” Kiki said.

“You hear that, dearest?” Raj said, quite smarmy. “We’re married and we didn’t even have to bother with all the pomp and circumstance.”

“I would’ve rather preferred the pomp,” I retorted just to vex him.

We made our way to our rooms and let ourselves inside; they were right across the hall from each other, and Kiki insisted we knock if we needed anything. I realized I’d never stayed at an inn before and while I might’ve found it common at one point, after spending the night on the ground at a boys’ orphanage, I found the humble accommodations luxurious. The four-post bed was made up with a handmade quilt and would certainly be comfortable for two people; a coat rack by the door was sufficient for hanging outer garments, and there was even a vanity and mirror for getting ready. We were both in disguises; Raj was still clad in his all-black interrogator’s get-up and I was still in riding clothes; designed for women, but not all what a princess was supposed to wear on horseback—a waistcoat, thick stockings, and a side-slit skirt suitable for straddling.

Straddling. My face grew warm, realizing for the first time that Raj and I truly were alone in this room, and while it was by far not the first time we’d been alone together, it was certainly the first time in a while we could relax while in each other’s presence—at least, as much as one could relax after fleeing the clutches of a power-hungry royal.

Lander. I always knew he was ambitious, but to use me as a pawn in his schemes? In what world could he possibly believe I’d go along with it? The question answered itself: because I’ve never given him a reason not to believe I’d go along with it. I’ve always strived to be a proper princess. To do what was expected of me. I might have something to say behind closed doors, but in the public eye, in the political eye, I’d never give them a reason to question my diplomacy.

Oh, that was not so anymore, was it? Something had been let loose within me, ever since I’d returned to Tanbarun. Ever since I’d realized a royal could change, could evolve into something better, something real.

Whatever I was now, a proper princess I was not. Not anymore.

“Charlie?” Raj said, startling me out of my contemplations. “Are you alright? Are you sure you’re comfortable sharing a room? If you wish it, I could sleep on the floor. I wouldn’t—”

“Absolutely not,” I interjected. “We’re engaged to be married, after all. We’ve kissed. We’ve touched. We know we love each other. Why shouldn’t we share a bed?”

Now Raj turned pinkish. “Oh. Yes. Well, when you put it that way…” He cleared his throat. “You were serious about the love confession, then? It wasn’t just the heat of the moment, because we both thought I might die?”

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” I said. “I thought it might be my last chance, but of course I was serious, Raj. I wouldn’t lie to you, not about that.”

“But you’d lie to me about other things,” he muttered.

I opened and closed my mouth, fish-like. After everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, I realized he was still hung up on the fact that I’d kept the conspiracy from him. It had wounded his pride considerably, then.

It was time to rectify that.

“I made a mistake,” I said. “You were right; I should have trusted you. You’ve proven yourself to be more than trustworthy.”

“You think I’m weak,” he said.

“No,” I said. “I think you don’t yet know your own strength. There is a difference between being weak because you refuse to exercise a muscle, and being weak because you are in the process of building a muscle. You’re building, Raj. It’s not an insult; in fact, it’s a great compliment. And you cannot expect yourself to suddenly be able to lift a great weight when you’ve only just begun the process of gaining strength. But this much is true: I thought I was helping you get stronger, and I wasn’t. I was holding you back. And for that I’m very sorry.”

He looked askance. “I suppose… there is some truth to that. It’s only a shame that I’m so underdeveloped.”

“But you’re improving at an accelerated rate,” I pointed out. “You should be very proud of yourself. I’m proud of you. Sakaki is proud of you. And so are the rest of your friends.”

“Oh, confound it all, Charlie. I can’t stay vexed with you when you say such flattering things.”

“I mean every word.” I smiled. “So am I forgiven?”

“You are,” he said with a huff. “I suppose that is a muscle I ought to flex more often as well, hm? The ability to forgive?”

“If we’re to have a happy marriage, I’m told it’s a necessity.”

“Among other things."

I squinted at him, then glanced at the bed. I suddenly felt very certain of something, something terribly unprincess-like. “Would you marry me tonight, Raj?” I asked.

He looked as shocked as if I’d just slapped him. “What?”

“Would you marry me tonight, in this room, in that bed?”

He put a hand to his mouth. “You mean—you mean consummate?” His voice had gone up an octave.

“Yes,” I said. “I won’t wait any longer for you, Raj Shenazade. And I rather doubt you’d prefer to wait any longer, either.”

Chapter Text

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” said Raj, rather flustered. “I know what we’ve said to each other, what we’ve felt—”

“I know more about it than you think,” I said. “My mother was very frank on the subject, surprisingly. What I lack is experience, not knowledge.”

“I don’t doubt that, but still…” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “We just escaped a dreadful ordeal wherein we had to literally flee the country. Your adrenaline levels are no doubt through the roof. I would highly recommend you take some time to unwind first. Have a cup of tea. Prop your feet up. Then see how you feel.”

I appreciated his consideration, but it also made me slightly suspicious. “Are you saying you don’t want to consummate our marriage tonight? If so, I’d rather you just come right out and say it.”

“Gah.” He shut his eyes and smashed the heels of his hands into his temples. “Don’t tempt me like that, Charlie. You have no earthly idea how much I want to. We’re outside the palace, alone behind closed doors with a single bed, masquerading as newlyweds… it’s almost too good to be true. It is too good to be true!”

“Are you saying you expect something to go wrong?”

“I’m saying,” he closed the distance between us and took my hands in his, “that I want to do right by you, Charlie. And this… this… doesn’t feel right.”

I was impressed by his conscience, even if it couldn’t come at a more inopportune time. He was right, of course. I was far too caught up in the drama of the night. I needed to get my bearings. Unwind, like he’d said. All of a sudden, I felt ashamed of my naivete. What a foolish thing to say. What a foolish thing to think.

He noted my sudden sobriety and brought his hands to the sides of my face. They were cool against the warm flush of my skin. “Charlie,” he said in a low voice, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

I made my eyes meet his. How did he know?

“You have no idea… how happy it makes me… that you want me,” he said, bringing his lips to my neck. “No one’s ever wanted me before.”

“But you’ve—” I stopped myself. His past exploits didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.

He laughed against the curve of my neck. “Do you think any of the women I’ve been with gave a flying fig about me? There was no mutual attraction there. Only transaction. And I’ve never felt anything like what I feel when I’m with you. That’s why I want to do this right. I want you to understand how special you are to me.”

He’d trailed his hand down my sternum to the top fastener of my waistcoat, undoing it, and my heart skipped a beat.

“I know I’m special to you,” I said, though my voice felt miles away.

He worked his way down the front of the waistcoat, undoing the fasteners one by one until he reached the end. He slipped it off of my shoulders and onto the floor. Underneath, I wore a long-sleeved cotton shift and under that, a simple chemise. Just having a single layer removed by him was enough to knock the wind out of me.

“What if we took things a bit slower?” he asked, his voice low and laced with mischief as he teased the collar of my blouse. “I could show you things. Things I’m certain your mother didn’t tell you.”

“What sorts of things?” I asked in a near-whisper.

He gave me a wicked grin and backed me up against the foot of the bed. I sat down upon it instinctively, my legs framing his hips as he leaned over me. “Well, that all depends.” He kissed the column of my neck, then my clavicle, then the exposed skin of my chest. One hand gripped the top of my thigh, and though there were three layers of material between my skin and his palm, I still felt like I was on fire.

“What does it depend on?” I asked, feeling somehow stupidly drunk and profoundly sober at the same time.

He kissed my lips softly, a butterfly’s touch. “First, you must answer a delicate question.”

When he didn’t continue, I demanded, “What question?”

He pulled back to look at me, his expression measured, and asked, “Have you ever pleasured yourself?”

I couldn’t stifle the blush that rose to my cheeks, not that I tried. I cleared my throat to feign composure. “Yes. A princess isn’t supposed to know how, but I sort of… figured it out. I might’ve made Karina tell me.”

“Good,” he drawled, the hand on my thigh toying with the high slit on the side of my skirt. “This will make it a bit easier, then.”

He dropped to his knees and lifted my foot level with his torso. I still wore my knee-high riding boots and regretted not taking them off sooner.

“What are you doing?” I asked, more out of curiosity than trepidation.

“May I?” he asked, a hand on the back of my calf.

I nodded as he began to unlace and remove my boots, which on its own was intimate enough. Then, he reached up my skirt to the top of my right stocking, which stopped at my upper thigh. My breath hitched as his fingers brushed my skin, rolling the stocking down and pulling it off, exposing my foot and ankle—truly a scandalous act, made doubly so when he took the second stocking off. Never in my life had I felt so indecent and yet so profoundly at ease with it. 

“How do you feel so far?” Raj asked, his hands on the sides of my thighs, where the slit in the fabric exposed my bare skin.

“Breathless,” I said. “But in a good way.”

“Remember to keep breathing, then.” He reached under the skirt to my hips, where a pair of cotton bloomers served as an extra layer of warmth and protection while riding. He found the waistband and said, “Lift your hips, please.”

Dumbstruck, I did as he asked, and he slid the cotton bloomers off. I now had nothing on underneath my riding skirt, and it began to dawn on me what, exactly, he was going to do.

He gently spread my legs apart and looked up at me with an expression of measured calm. “I’ll start slow. You just… let me know if it feels good.” He slipped a hand underneath my skirt, to my nether regions, and began to touch me there.

I winced, the sensation was so acutely pleasurable.

He reared back to gauge my reaction. “Good? Bad?”

“Good,” I breathed. “Kiss me.”

He gladly obliged, pushing me gently back onto the bed, one hand under my skirt, the other to my face as he kissed me eagerly. His mouth and his fingers worked in tandem until, well, to put it frankly, I had to bite down on his shoulder to keep from being heard.

The last thing I needed was Kiki or Shirayuki rushing in here, thinking I was in some kind of danger. Rather the opposite, but oh, how mortifying it would be. I would never be able to look either of them in the eye again.

When I’d settled, Raj braced his hands on either side of me, hovering over me with a look of warm satisfaction as he said, “There, what a good little princess.”

“Oh, don’t look so proud of yourself,” I retorted, unable to resist the lure of banter despite my disorienting state of euphoria. “Surely, you’ve had much practice.”

“Less than you think,” he said. “I often avoided the giving end if I could help it, so very selfish and greedy was I.”

“Well, I give you leave to be selfish and greedy now,” I said, running my hands through his hair. “What can I do for you?”

“Hm. Nothing. I’m rather satisfied just by pleasuring you.”

I harrumphed. “That hardly seems fair.”

“Consider it an IOU, then,” he said. “I’ll come to collect another night.”

“When will we get another night?”

He smirked. “Consider it a promise. After all, we’re not in the palace anymore.”

I shivered with a mixture of fear and delight at the realization. Even though the circumstances were less than ideal, there was an upside to our situation, scandalous as it may be. “Very well, but I will hold you to it.”

“I hope you do.” He pushed himself off the bed and began to undress. While I was in a state of disarray, he had remained fully clothed this entire time. He caught me staring at him as he removed his jacket and smirked. “Don’t get too excited, dearest. I’m only getting ready for bed. I’m exhausted as, I’m sure, are you.”

“Very,” I agreed. While he went down the hall to find the chamber pot, I put some of my garments back on (the bloomers) while discarding others (the riding skirt) so that I could sleep more comfortably. I moved to the vanity mirror and attempted to tame my hair into something resembling a braid, washed my face, and returned to the bed.

Raj returned a moment later and finished undressing, leaving nothing but a pair of undershorts as he snuffed out the lantern and climbed into bed. Despite the intimacy of just moments ago, my heart was pounding. This wasn’t the first time I’d slept beside Raj, or even the first time that we’d found ourselves in the same bed, but it was the first time it felt intentional.

It was the first time it felt like it meant something.

Raj turned on his side to face me, the mattress squeaking so loudly underneath him I was certain we’d wake the entire inn. I was already facing inward towards him, of course, and he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me flush with him and kissing my forehead.

“I rather like this,” he said, settling in. “I rather like this a lot.”

“So do I,” I said.

My face was against his bare chest and I could hear his heartbeat. It was no small consolation that his was beating nearly as fast as mine—at least we were equals in that regard. I’d never seen this much of him, never been this close to him unimpeded, and in a way, it was just as intimate as our little foray from earlier had been. A quieter, gentler sort of intimacy, but just as special to me. To feel the warmth of the skin, to hear his beating heart, to fall asleep in his arms to the rise and fall of his breath… this was what I wanted.

Chapter Text

I woke to birdsong and Raj’s sleeping face.

I suppose the novelty of waking up next to Raj should have worn off after the third time, but I was beginning to wonder if it ever would. And besides, the first time had been under duress, staying at the boys’ home in City Royale, while the second time had been unexpected, a product of sleepwalking and, frankly, more duress. This was a pleasant continuation of last night’s affection, and the more I remembered it, the giddier I became.

He was so peaceful in sleep—such a beautiful boy, as he always had been to me. At rest, his beauty was tranquil rather than intense, and I relished the rare opportunity to observe it. I gently brushed the untamed hair away from his face, and in response, he moaned in his sleep and slung an arm over me, pulling me flush to his chest.

I hadn’t planned on getting up quite yet, but I was suddenly at a loss for what to do. I tried to break myself free without waking him, but he moaned in protest and nuzzled his face into my neck, then brushed my hair away to kiss the sensitive skin there. So he was awake after all, or about to be.

“Don’t get up,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. “Not yet.”

“Did I wake you?” I whispered.

“Yes, but I don’t care.” He kissed my neck again, sending delightful shivers down my back, and then his teeth took the place of his lips, the gentlest of bites. I gasped, my entire body seizing with a hot-cold sensation. “I rather like waking up to you.”

“So do I,” I said. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock. Or a baby. A baby rock.” He nipped me again at the curve of my shoulder. I gasped again, the reaction involuntary at best. “And how about you, my love?”

“I shall borrow your verbiage: a baby rock.”

“Mmm. Very good.” His lips moved down my shoulder, pulling down the strap of my chemise as he did so. I was breathless, lost in sensation. He pushed me gently onto my back and slipped a hand up the leg of my bloomers until he reached my most sensitive area, stroking gently. I closed my eyes against the utter ecstasy of it, even more intense than last night had been after a good night’s sleep. “Mm, you’re very wet for me, princess,” he murmured into my ear, nipping my earlobe gently. “I’d like to give you a taste.”

“A taste?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.

“May I pleasure you with my tongue?”

“Your tongue?” I hadn’t known that was an option.

“Say no if it’s too much.”

“I don’t know if it’s too much,” I said. “I just… you see… that appeals to you?”

He hovered over me, a wicked look in his eyes. “Very much so. Oh, princess, you haven’t the slightest idea, do you?”

I flushed warm, my inexperience laid bare once again. “How should I? A princess need not know such things.”

“You’re right.” He kissed me on the lips. “You need a teacher. Someone far naughtier than you.”

I took his jest in stride. “And you suppose yourself qualified for the job?”

“Over-qualified, in fact. I may sully you beyond redemption.”

I traced the line of his jaw, his collarbone, the lean muscles of his arms. He shivered beneath my touch, which imbued me with a confidence I never knew I could have. “I invite you to do your worst.”

He snickered mischievously as he moved backward down the bed, positioning himself over my lower half. He found the waistline of my bloomers and hooked one finger underneath, brushing the skin of my lower abdomen, driving me mad with anticipation. Slowly, ever so slowly, he inched them off, not stopping until they were completely free of my legs. Then, he hoisted himself back to my eye level and kissed me, a long, lingering kiss that traveled to my jaw, then my neck, my chest, a straight line all the way down until there was nowhere left to go. I thought his fingers had been clever. His mouth was dangerously so.

Oh, I could certainly understand why no one bothered to tell me about this.

***
As I lay there in another comatose state of rapture, I turned to Raj, laying beside me with his head propped up in his hand, looking far too pleased with himself as he played with the loose tendrils of my hair, and said, “I owe you double now.”

“Now, now,” he said. “It’s not a tit-for-tat sort of thing. Not always.”

“But I want to,” I said. “Come, now, teacher. You must provide me with a well-rounded curriculum.”

He chuckled. “There will be time for that later.”

I turned onto my side, facing him head-on. “What are you afraid of?”

He swallowed. So there was something to this. “A-As I said, I was once rather selfish and greedy. I have much to atone for. So… so you owe me nothing.”

“Now, Raj,” I said gently. “All of that is the past. None of it applies to you and me.”

“I… I know that.”

“If you’re afraid I’ll think you selfish, don’t be. I’m offering to give. You’re not demanding to take.”

“You make a fair point.”

I slipped my hand down his chest to the outside of his drawers. He took in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering closed. I had no idea what I was doing, but I imagined if his reactions were positive, I must be on the right track. I began to massage him. He moaned, his lips drawing to mine. He gnawed my bottom lip gently, urging me on.

“This is right?” I asked softly, half-afraid to break the spell I’d somehow cast over him.

“Try this,” he said, barely above a whisper, and directed my hand to grip more firmly, to be less timid. I was electrified, unaware that providing pleasure could be as enjoyable as receiving it, and now I understood his eagerness to do so with me. This was invigorating.

And then there was a knock on the door.

I was certain the both of us jumped a foot off the bed, so startled were we. I snatched my hand back and hid my entire body, save for my face, under the blanket as if I could be seen through the door. My face burned with embarrassment, my heartbeat about to clear a path through my chest and flee the country.

“Your Highnesses?” It was Kiki. All business, as usual, which only made it a fraction more bearable. “Are you awake?”

Raj recovered faster than me, clearing his throat. “Yes. Yes, we’re both up.”

“Sorry for the wake-up call, but it’s already almost ten and we need to get a move on if we want to reach the mountains by nightfall. Also, the inn’s kitchen is about to close, so if you want hot breakfast, I’d make haste.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Kiki. We’ll be right out.”

“We’ll be downstairs.”

I waited until I couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore before I finally relaxed, exhaling in distress. “Oh, that was horrible!”

Raj was laughing, the scoundrel. “Well, it’s our own faults for sleeping in so late.”

“I’m sorry I never—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” He waved a finger. “Think nothing of it. It was very nice. And, you know what they say, anticipation is half the pleasure.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

He captured my hand in his and kissed it. “I look forward to it. Now, I think we ought to take Kiki’s suggestion about breakfast. Though technically I already ate, you look like you could use some meat.”

Admittedly, it took a moment to parse out his meaning, at which point I hit him upside the chest. Oh, he was going to be an absolute menace now, wasn’t he?

Chapter Text

After a quick but enjoyable breakfast, we hit the road, this time on horses procured by Kiki some time before. We made good time to the mountain pass with no impediments to report, other than the occasional ache or pain from a night in unfamiliar beds. (Though a stiff neck was a small price to pay for last night and this morning, all things considered.)

Normally, traversing the mountain was attainable on horseback, but since we were attempting to remain inconspicuous—not to mention our ultimate destination was a vigilante group’s hideout—we were required to take a secondary path that was entirely on foot.

Now that was taxing. Both Kiki and Shirayuki were in much better physical shape than we were, the former being a lady knight and the latter a court herbalist who spent her days at work, but even Raj had more stamina than I did thanks to his fencing and naval lessons. That left me, the weak link, to bring up the rear. Both Kiki and Raj offered to carry me multiple times, but my pride wouldn’t allow it.

Until, halfway through the climb, I hit a very demoralizing breaking point—it must’ve been because the air had grown thinner, but suddenly I couldn’t breathe and spots crowded my vision. My knees buckled, and Raj, who walked beside me (even though I was slow), caught me before I hit the ground.

“Charlie!” he shouted as he lowered me onto my back. “Water, get her water, quick!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said weakly, even as Shirayuki came over and held the canteen to my lips. “Just a dizzy spell.”

“We need to stop for the day,” Raj said. “Charlie can’t go on like this. She pushed herself too hard.”

“I don’t mean to sound inconsiderate, Your Highness, but we only have a few more hours before we reach the threshold of the Lions’ territory,” Kiki said. “If we stop now, we’ll have to wait until morning. The dangers increase the longer we stand still.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath.”

“I’m going to make you a tonic to help rehydrate you,” Shirayuki said, slinging off her pack to dig through its contents. “Raj, I think you’re going to have to carry her. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “I would have hours ago.”

It seemed my pride had long tumbled off the cliff face anyway, so I had no choice but to acquiesce. After Shirayuki made me drink an unpleasantly salty tonic, Raj hoisted me onto his back and we continued our ascension.

I could hear him wheezing beneath me within the first half hour.

“Raj, I don’t mean to sound discouraging, but I don’t see how you can carry me for the next two to three hours. I’m not exactly light.”

“What are—you—talking about?” he panted. “You’re light—as a feather.”

“Bull manure.”

He coughed out a laugh. “What would your mother have—to say—about your colorful language?”

“That was colorful?”

“We could take turns,” said Kiki. “I don’t mind carrying her.”

“And prove once and for all how utterly feeble I am? No, thank you,” Raj said.

“I have an unfair advantage,” said Kiki. “I’ve been building strength since I was a little girl.”

“Was it difficult?” I asked her. I’d been curious since I’d met her, but it had never seemed appropriate to ask. “Becoming a knight?”

“I had to work twice as hard as everyone else, but it was worth it to me,” she said. “I wanted it more than anything. When that’s the case, you’d be surprised what you can put up with.”

“Touché,” Raj wheezed. “Perhaps—we can go—in shifts.”

“Of course, Your Highness. I guarantee you, I couldn’t carry her all the way up the mountain either.”

“Why do I feel like she’s lying to protect my feelings?” Raj mumbled, but he consented, and thus I was passed back and forth between the two of them like a stinky rucksack until the last hour, when I insisted I could walk on my own.

Raj still walked directly behind me as if afraid I might fall backward and tumble down the mountain, but I didn’t mind his overprotectiveness. In fact, it was deeply flattering.

Finally, just as the sun began to set, a group of people in hooded cloaks appeared from seemingly nowhere, surrounding us in an instant. Though they looked to be on their guard, none of their weapons were drawn.

“Hold it,” said a young male voice, stepping forward from the group. He removed his hood, revealing a strikingly pretty face with bright amber eyes and wavy, blonde, chin-length hair.

“Kazuki!” Shirayuki exclaimed, removing her own hood. “You cut your hair!”

“Shirayuki!” He ran forward and pulled her into a hug. “You grew yours out! I knew that had to be you! What are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story…” She gestured to the three of us. “But we were hoping the Lions could help us.”

“Are you kidding? Of course they can—” His eyes landed on Raj and he paled. “Is that the crown prince?”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” said Shirayuki. “All we need is a place to rest for the night. I’ll explain everything else when we get there.”

Kazuki rubbed his jaw line, contemplating, before replying, “Well… anything for you, Shirayuki. Follow me.” Instantly at ease, he began to chatter to Shirayuki as we walked. “Pops is going to be so happy to see you. So much has happened since you were here last! We built a new treehouse and we started growing more medicinal herbs—the ones you suggested!—and…”

“Who is that, exactly?” I asked.

“More or less? Shirayuki’s foster brother,” Kiki replied. “He’s a bit over-eager, but he means well.”

The familiarity made sense, then. I was glad that we would receive a warm welcome thanks to her. Turning to Raj, I asked, “That boy seemed to recognize you. Have you been here before?”

“Er, no, I haven’t,” he said sheepishly. “There has never been a need. I sent gifts after the whole Claw of the Sea incident, to thank them for their help with the rescue. But I’ve never interacted with them directly. If I’m being honest, I’m a bit nervous to meet Shirayuki’s father.”

“Why is that?”

“Well… think about it. I haven’t exactly made life easy for his daughter.”

“You really must let go of the past, Raj.”

“I would, truly. If only it would first let go of me.”

***

We reached the wooden gate of the Lions’ fortress before nightfall, and I was only partially surprised to find that behind the gate was not a ramshackle settlement but a well-established community. The buildings were made of timber, some on the ground, some in the trees with rope bridges connecting them. A main square sat before us with villagers going about their evening tasks, and no one paid us much mind other than to greet Kazuki or acknowledge that Shirayuki had returned.

At the foot of a great, wooden staircase that led up to the balcony of a large building, a man in a long, tan robe met us. He was strong of build and handsome in face, with deep green eyes and dark red hair. It wasn’t difficult to guess who this man was.

“Pops, look who’s come back!” Kazuki announced, gesturing redundantly to Shirayki.

“What an unexpected surprise,” the chief said to Shirayuki in an easy-going tone. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve cleaned this place up.”

“It’s good to see you again, Father,” Shirayuki said, oddly formal for someone who often shunned formality. “Sorry for the lack of heads-up, but… it’s kind of an emergency.”

The chief’s eyes swept across the three of us, first in consideration, then shock. To Raj, he said, “Well, you’re certainly the last person I expected to see here. What business would the crown prince of Tanbarun have with the Lions? Do you have more pirates to catch?”

This garnered some attention from the nearby villagers, who began to gather around us with expressions of curiosity and shock. I wondered if he was thought well of by the Lions, despite their seemingly amicable relationship.

“Sir,” Raj said, stepping forward. “That is, General Mukaze… we apologize for the intrusion… our business doesn’t involve pirates, per se, but it is a bit… troublesome.”

“Oh?” Mukaze raised an eyebrow.

Raj glanced at Shirayuki, perhaps hoping she’d be the one to explain, before steeling himself and saying, “We are fugitives of the law. We’ve come seeking asylum.”

“Fugitives?” Mukaze almost laughed. “How are you a fugitive of your own kingdom, Highness? I thought people liked you now.”

“Well—Yes—They do, but…” He took another fortifying breath. “There is a conspiracy afoot. For reasons I don’t entirely understand, but seem to be as much personal as they are political, Valiona’s crown prince seeks to ruin me. Everything I’ve built over the past two years—everything I’ve sought to fix—is in jeopardy. But more than that,” now he took my hand, “this is Princess Charlamaine of Valiona, my bride-to-be. This conspiracy doesn’t affect just me, but her as well. In fact, it hinges upon keeping us apart. I will not let that happen.”

The intensity in his voice was alarming—it was laced with the same latent power he’d demonstrated the morning after the ball, and again when he’d interrogated the apothecary. It made me feel secure in his presence, like we could overcome anything.

Mukaze watched him intently, a somber expression on his face that I couldn’t begin to decipher, but said nothing.

“So,” Raj went on, his intensity waning, “I know it doesn’t have all that much to do with you, but… we really just need a place to rest and resupply. The Lions need not get involved past that point.”

He waited for the general’s answer, knowing he had every right to refuse to aid us—friends of Shirayuki or not, we still brought trouble to their door, and foreign trouble at that. It was an important decision for a leader.

All of a sudden, Mukaze smiled and slapped Raj on the back. “Of course, Highness! Any friends of Shirayuki are friends of ours. And after all, you did do us a solid by taking out the Claw. Kazuki, let’s get some rooms set up, the best we’ve got.” To Raj and I, he said, “Sorry it won’t be anything fancy, Your Highnesses. Even with advanced notice, our accommodations are still modest at best by royal standards.”

“I’m sure they will be more than adequate,” I said. “Thank you, General.”

“Please, call me Mukaze. Come on, now. The four of you must be starving. Hey, Shirayuki, speaking of royals, where’s that princey boyfriend of yours?”