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  Princess

  A Reign of Prophecy Novella

  Nicolette Andrews

  Copyright © 2013 Nicolette Andrews

  Cover Art by Nadica Borshivka

  Cover Design By Covers By Combs

  Edited By Pauline Nolet

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Excerpt Heart of Thorns

  Also by Nicolette Andrews

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  There’s a secret world inside the palace walls, known only to me. I used to pretend that the hidden passageways connected me with the past, to the people who built the palace. I liked to imagine mysterious sorcerers lurking about using the tunnels to slip in and out of chambers to deliver deadly poison to their enemies, or warriors slipping in and out of rooms unseen to protect their charges.

  I knelt down in front of the tapestry at the far end of my chamber. It was a faded thing depicting ladies dancing in a circle, hands clasped. They were throwing flower petals up in the air, and forest creatures—deer, bears, and rabbits—gathered around to watch. It was hideous, but I had never asked to have it replaced for fear my secret would be discovered. The ugly tapestry hid the entry to the hidden passageway. It was not much more than a roughhewn hole in the stonework.

  Celia, my lady’s maid, set down her cross-stitching. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little old for these things?”

  I grinned at her over my shoulder. “Don’t you think you’re a little young to be talking like an old woman? Come with me. We can spy on the royal council together.”

  Celia sniffed and picked up her cross-stitch again. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said. I hadn’t really expected her to come. Celia never approved of my ventures into the hidden parts of the palace. She never tried to stop me either, because I kept my lips sealed about her late night rendezvous with her beau. I crawled on hands and knees through the gap. The space was tight, and my gown caught on the rough edges of the stone. I tugged hard and pulled through onto the other side by grabbing onto slimy rocks. I heard a rip as I hoisted myself to my feet, levering my weight on the wall opposite the hole. I picked up the hem of my gown once I was upright and discovered a hole the size of my pinkie in the skirt. Celia can mend this. She loves that sort of thing.

  Celia was more a lady than me; it was by some cruel twist of fate that I was a princess and she was my lady-in-waiting. I would readily admit Celia would make a much better princess. She loved arranging flowers; she could sit still for hours and talk about nothing but the weather. Most importantly, she didn’t stir up a wave of whispers any time she entered a room.

  I let the skirt fall, the tear forgotten, and walked sideways along the length of the space. When I first discovered the passageways, I could stretch out my arms and not touch either wall. Now I had to all but suck in my breath to get through.

  That first time, I blinked in the darkness and could not see anything but the faintest outline of the walls. The tunnel stretched out, inky blank in either direction, leading into the unknown. I picked a side and climbed over broken stones and slipped on moss. The tunnel twisted and turned, sometimes going down, sometimes splitting in different directions. I heard conversations through the walls, servants gossiping as they worked, and courtiers plotting in their chambers. I could spend the rest of my life exploring those tunnels and never find the end. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I found a whole new world inside the walls.

  Eventually I returned because I was hungry. I got lost a few times on my way back. I panicked and cut open my hand on a sharp stone. Somehow I found my way, filthy and bloodstained. When I returned, my room and the world seemed pale in comparison.

  I sat back down to wait for my nurse to return. She came into the room with my brother, Adair, and a few other adults. Nurse turned bright red when they found me playing quietly in my chamber.

  “She’s right here,” Adair said, not even bothering to hide his laughter. “And covered in dirt.”

  “Where have you been?” Nurse’s eyes bulged out of her sockets.

  “I’ve been playing,” I lied. I didn’t want to share my discovery, not yet anyway.

  She looked ready to burst, but seeing as my brother was there, she didn’t. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up, at least.”

  She bustled me past my brother and he winked at me.

  Now standing in the damp darkness, it felt like coming home. I took a moment to let my eyes adjust. The total blackness melded into shadows; I could see the lines of the walls, the bulge of uneven stones in spots. Rats scurried by, chittering as they went. I came to a fork and considered my path. King Layton was holding a council meeting. It was closed, so none but the royal advisers could attend. Because I had been expressly forbidden from attending, I was curious to see what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t as if women weren’t allowed at the council; Duchess Diranel was one of King Layton’s most trusted advisers. Maybe he only allows her to join because she ensorcelled him. They say her husband is a sorcerer. Now would be the perfect time to find out for certain.

  King Layton treated me like a child even though I was a woman flowered. I was sixteen nearly seventeen—old enough to be wed though I liked to ignore that fact. I was also a member of the royal family, and as a grown woman, I should be given a place on the council, but the king denied me my place, though I could not say why.

  I turned to the right. The best place to spy on the council meeting would be from above, I decided. The tunnel was damp in places from water trapped between the walls. Where it was wet, thick moss grew. It was like a soft, silky blanket draped over the walls. It brushed against my skin and sent shivers down my spine. I found white mushrooms growing in the crevices between stones. They materialized out of the dark like pale specters. Here everything smelled like salt and mold. I had come to find comfort in the smell.

  Light broke through in places when I skirted the outer walls. Mortar had come loose, and small shafts of light illuminated the opposite wall in stripes. I imagined the courtiers on the other side going about with their frivolous lives, content with their place in the order of things. I hated them and envied them their simple existence. The tunnel bent inward and the darkness closed in. The walls were narrower here as well. I had to suck in my breath at one part. Maybe Celia’s right; maybe I am getting too big for this. It was a sad realization; these tunnels had been my only solace for a long time. Voices murmured on the other side of the wall. I am almost there. There were quite a few places in the tunnels where I could eavesdrop on conversations. If I learned one thing from listening in on people unawares, it was to trust no one. I had heard more schemes and gossip than I cared to count.

  The audience hall was not one of the places where I could hear through the walls, unfortunately. The walls were too thick. They were, however, lower than others, with crooked stones ideal for climbing. This part of the tunnel ran along near the vaulted ceiling above the audience hall. In order to hear what was happening below, I had to climb to the top of the wall and lean upon the beams that crossed the ceiling.

  I hiked up my numerous skirts. I had considered slipping out in my underclothes, but Celia had put her foot down. “What if you are seen?” She had been mortified by the idea. So I had ceded to her nagging and worn my full skirts and corset. They made climbing difficu
lt but not impossible. My corset was loose; I never let Celia tighten it too much. I liked breathing, thank you very much. I kicked off my slippers and wriggled my toes against the cold stone floor. I groped around the wall, looking for a hand grip, then I found one for my feet, and very slowly I scaled the wall. The ceiling was illuminated above me from the windows in the room beyond. I climbed to the top and sat at the edge of the wall. I balanced there and leaned upon a rafter for support.

  The council of thirteen sat arrayed around the table. King Layton sat at the head of the table. That should be my brother’s seat, I thought. King Layton wore a simple crown of silver, which contrasted against his auburn hair. He had a young handsome face, with smiling green eyes. He was, in fact, a distant cousin of mine, though we looked as different from one another as night and day.

  Today his auburn brows were pulled together as he spoke to his council. To his right sat Duchess Diranel. She had a round face, dark black hair and violet eyes. She had been away from court for some time, but I still remembered the way her gaze seemed to pierce you as if all your darkest thoughts were laid bare before her. On her right was her husband, Duke Slatone. He was perhaps two and thirty with prematurely white hair. It looked as if it had been leeched of all color. He had the blue eyes of House Raleban, which also made him a cousin to me. At court you learned early on that almost everyone has some distant relation to you. The duke’s eyes are like my brother’s and mine, but he is nothing like us. The duke had a look that could freeze you to the core. He spoke little, and rumor was he had traded his soul to become a sorcerer.

  Duke Slatone leaned forward, watching King Layton as he spoke, his fingers in a steeple before him.

  “There must be something we can do about this feuding,” King Layton said to his council. “Aland of the Stone Clan reports there has been fighting along the border clans, and a few settlers have been killed.”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of our concern.” Duke Quince bristled. He was a balding man with a large gut that pressed against the table and wobbled as he spoke.

  “It concerns us because the Stone Clan are our allies; we signed the treaty just as they did. We have sworn to protect one another,” King Layton said with a steady glare at the duke.

  “What does Aland think is the cause of this?” Duchess Diranel asked.

  “He thinks it is some sort of clan feud. He is asking for men and iron to quell the insurrection,” King Layton said. He sounded tired, and I could see even from above the dark circles that lined his eyes.

  “Is that wise? If he were to retaliate against these clans, then it could be considered a declaration of war. Our peace is with the Stone Clan, make war with one and hundreds of others might rise up to attack,” Duke Wodell added. He was a broad-shouldered man with black hair gone mostly gray and a thick black and gray beard.

  “I agree any overt support on our part would be unwise, and I have told Aland as much. My concern is how do we unite these people and stop them from warring against themselves? No peace with any clan will be true peace until they are one,” Layton said.

  “Surely Aland can do that. He has brought many of the Biski under his rule. Look how prosperous the Stone Clan and Reglabal have become under his rule,” said Duke Delanty. He was a young duke whom many at court favored for his handsome looks and quick smiles. He was well loved by the ladies of court, but I knew that he had a particular fondness for Lord Roger.

  I knew lots of things about people that they never would imagine I knew. The walls were full of secrets, and I knew them all.

  “Peace is not easily won when there are those who fear change,” Duchess Diranel said pragmatically. She had her hands folded on the table in front of her and she was studying them. “I have seen visions of a leader for the Biski, and he is not Aland. There is danger awaiting us if the Biski are not united and soon,” she said and looked at the others around her.

  I felt the hairs prickle on my arm. I had heard of the duchess’ power. She was said to be a diviner, a woman with the ability to see glimpses into the future. It seemed like a terrifying power to know the future and have no way to stop it.

  The council members’ voices rumbled as they discussed the duchess’ proclamation. Duchess Diranel and Duke Slatone meanwhile exchanged a glance that seemed to communicate volumes.

  “This matter will take some deliberation; I will think on it. Now to the matter that has brought us together,” Layton said to his council. “I have been king now for five years, and while I hate to broach this topic, we must discuss the topic of my heir.”

  There was uneasy shifting about the room.

  “As you all know, I have no sisters and my closest female relative is Princess Edalene. By our laws, my heir shall be the son of my nearest female relative. I have waited until Edalene is of age, but I have decided to make her future son my heir.”

  The grumblings took on a sharper tone. It was as if Layton had disturbed a nest of hornets. I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. All my breath escaped in a whoosh. I wobbled on the edge of my perch. I swung out my arms to catch myself from falling and clutched onto the beam. Duchess Diranel’s gaze flickered in my direction. For a moment, I thought she would reveal my spying to everyone. Our eyes met. Though I was high up, the shadows should have hidden me. She looked away and back to King Layton. Maybe she didn’t see me after all. I crouched back down and leaned over further to hear the conversation happening below me.

  “There have been a few offers. Queen Arlene suggested a cousin of hers in Neaux.”

  “Do you think that would be wise?” Duke Slatone said. His voice was soft but full of intent. I had to strain to hear him. “She is half-Neaux, and for her to marry a Neaux man the child would be more Neaux than Danhadine. The people would never accept his rule. They have not forgotten our history.”

  They have forgotten to mention that the people would never accept my son on the throne at all. How could they?

  King Layton nodded. “Yes, I had thought much the same. That is why I thought to decline the offer.”

  “Still,” Duchess Diranel said, “we should be trying to strengthen our bonds with Neaux. Prince Leonel can only do so much to tie them to us.”

  How can they talk about me like I am grain to be shipped? Is my life not my own?

  “That is true, but I think there are better ways to do that than give them the throne.” Layton steepled his hands together.

  They talk about me as if I am a breeding mare. What if I don’t want to marry at all?

  “Why not choose a Danhadine lord? What about Duke Delanty?” Duke Ilore said, and he jabbed his companion in the ribs.

  Duke Delanty looked abashed. I was horrified. I do not want to be cuckolded by another man!

  “What about a Jerauchian match? Lord Regent Malchor has been making inquiries into a match between his grandson and Edalene,” Duke Quince said.

  “Jerauch is always looking to increase their strength with a marriage. We benefit nothing from them. I have not forgotten they did not come to our aid during the war as they promised,” King Layton replied with a hard look to Duke Quince.

  “What of Lord Herrondell? He is of an age close to the girl, with strong ties to House Nanore,” Duke Nanore suggested.

  They were all making self-serving suggestions; none of them were even considering my feelings.

  The very thought of them planning my life out for me made me sick to my stomach. I was furious, blinded by anger, and without thinking, I shouted from the rafters, “What about letting her choose her own husband!”

  Duchess Diranel was the first to look up at me. I had been right; she had seen me but was pretending otherwise. Well, they all knew where I was now. Layton stood up and looked where Duchess Diranel was staring. I crouched down, with dust clinging to my hands and cobwebs in my hair.

  “Edalene, what are you doing up there?” King Layton shouted up at me. He didn’t sound angry, more amused than anything.

  “Making my own decisions!
You cannot decide my life for me!” I shouted. I hate them. I hate them all.

  I jumped down from the wall back into the tunnel. The landing jarred my legs and pain shot up them. I ignored the burn and ran down the tunnel towards my chamber. I squeezed through the tights spots and bumped into walls; I scraped my hands and tore my gown further. I came out through the crawl space behind the tapestry and into the bright light of my chamber.

  Celia was sitting by the window. Light was falling through the window, and it shot her black hair with red streaks. Her olive skin looked golden beneath the afternoon light. How I wished I could trade places with Celia. We looked enough alike with our olive skin and dark hair; the only difference was I was marked by my blue eyes, linking me to House Raleban and a legacy I cared nothing about. Her dark eyes were round as saucers when she saw me. “You nearly scared me out of my skin!” she scolded. She stood up and came to offer me a hand up. I was still kneeling on the ground just outside the crawl space. “You look ill. What did you hear this time?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I refused her hand and climbed onto my feet.

  When I turned sixteen, my nurse retired and Celia was chosen as my lady-in-waiting. We were of the same age, and we were both half-Neaux. My heritage tied me to a kingdom I knew next to nothing about and did not care to learn about. It made me an outsider, and my keepers thought it fitting that my lady-in-waiting match me. At first I was excited; I had never had a playmate. I had longed to share my secret world with someone at last, but I learned quickly that Celia had no interest in exploring. She would much rather talk, read, or cross-stitch. The boring things I was expected to enjoy. I was a princess; I was supposed to play the harp, cross-stitch, read or any other number of things that I could do while sitting still, waiting for a marriage that would bind me to a man at my king’s discretion. I didn’t choose to be a princess; it was a fluke of my birth. I suspected Celia had been chosen to help civilize me. I heard the rumors through the walls; I knew what the courtiers thought of me. I was too wild and too uncouth.