Page 16 of Princess of Air

She leads the way onto the veranda, arm-in-arm with Father, making the promenade erupt in applause. My siblings and I follow in age order—Rylan, me, Marcus, then Nina—and line up as planned. When the roar settles, I push Mother’s voice out to amplify her, marking the first time she hasn’t done it herself.

“Good people of Alchos, you honor us by coming to celebrate the crowning of my heir. This day will be remembered for years to come. However, this crown”—she lifts the ring of gold and gems—“will not be laid upon my son’s head today.” Murmurs rise from the crowd. “As each of my children possess magic, each of my children have been deemed eligible to rule. In the spirit of what is best for the kingdom and our people, we have devised a process to determine which of them would be best suited to rule this magnificent land.”

The entire length of the promenade is full of people here to witness Rylan’s coronation, and more line the terraces of the bordering buildings. Anywhere a person might possibly have a vantage point to see us is taken as she goes on to explain the trials. The love of our people is a palpable thing, and I can’t imagine the venom our enemies spew taking hold here.

If I could freeze everything just like this, with the towers of Mirador Palace behind us and troves of adoring subjects before us, I would. But seeing the King and Queen of Ceraun—my future family—in a place of honor reminds me this is far from permanent. Jamys smiles at me next to his sister. On the other side of our grandparents are the Coyles. Josslyn’s face gives away nothing of what she may be thinking, but Tomas is in a rage. I hope Rylan thinks it’s on his behalf.

“Ruling Alchos is the greatest honor for our family, and we look forward to building the best possible future for our kingdom.” The masses eat up Mother’s words. Whoever this scheme is appeasing, it seems the kingdom would go right along with whatever she said. I can’t imagine them being any less excited if she had just crowned Rylan today, but that’s not an option anymore. Not as she gestures to the four of us, and we step forward together. “Rylan, Prince of Earth.” He bows his head and raises it. “Arabella, Princess of Air.” I give a slight curtsy. Marcus and Nina follow in turn. “Marcus, Prince of Water. Nina, Princess of Fire. One of which will be the next ruler of Alchos.”

***

Gauzy skirts in a rainbow of colors brush the marble floor of the ballroom. Perfumes and colognes blanket the air in a heady, spicy scent, but the collected crowd is quiet as Mother and Father open the ball. The song begins softly while the Queen and King step into the middle of the dance floor. Then the violin virtuoso jumps into the piece, and they dance as though their feet are singing the lyrics poured forth by the strings.

Every step they take is in perfect sync as she turns with practiced grace. Their eye contact is coy, even as their expressions remain poised and regal. When she arches back, his hand is there to support her, though she holds herself up with ease. That’s the way it always is—he’s ready and willing to catch her, but I’ve never seen her fall. They are a perfect love story of childhood friends becoming more. It’s a rare and beautiful thing at their station—something I envy.

When the second song begins, we join them on the dance floor: Rylan with Jamys’ sister, Princess Lillian, Marcus with Josslyn, Nina with Tomas, and Jamys leads me out, our hands folded together.

Jamys and I have been friends, too. Not to the same extent—seeing each other infrequently due to distance and circumstance. Our first meeting was so long ago, it has the blurry edges of a dream. I had to be about ten years old. My family had all gone to Ceraun, and I remember tumbling through tall grasses and wildflowers. Lillian and the twins would have been eight, but Lillian remained in the shade, sitting quietly and observing rather than playing with us. Jamys seemed content to keep her that way—safe and still. He looked on as well while my siblings and I bounded around like wild beasts. Jamys and Lillian were regal at a much younger age than any of us were. Then again, how regal did any of us really become?

We’re all the picture of perfect nobility now, gliding across the floor in all our finery. The phantasmal quality of this song keeps me feeling like I’m in a memory or dream. Or watching someone else.

I squeeze Jamys’ hand to ground myself in reality. He’s decorated in full regalia, with gold accents reflecting light off his epaulettes. His suit seems like it might not be comfortable to wear, but the sharp lines do the job of making this already-handsome man look majestic.

Jamys tells me about the summer palace in Ceraun—how lovely it is and how he hopes I’ll enjoy it. It’s in the mountains, a cool, comfortable escape from the heat. I smile and nod but scarcely listen. I like Etherlee House in the summer. It represents an entirely different kind of heat for me now—a heat I crave in any season. This year may be the last time I go for that tradition. That is, if the trials don’t cancel our plans.

It’s terribly sad to think last year may have been the last time. It ended brilliantly for Tomas and me, but that all crumbled as soon as I got back. Two surprises in jarringly rapid succession. First the thrill of what Tomas could be to me, then the shock of Jamys taking that place.

Now, Jamys’ hand rests on my waist, and I wonder how much time will pass before I feel settled about it. As our dance comes to an end, Jo catches my eye, and we approach her as Marcus excuses himself.

She curtsies, her raven curls spilling over her shoulder. “Your Highness.”

“Lady Josslyn, it’s a pleasure.” Jamys bows his head. “I was just telling Princess Arabella about our summer palace. I’m certain you’ll both find yourselves right at home there.”

“That’s wonderful. I look forward to exploring Ceraun.”

He reaches out a hand. “Shall I tell you about it as we dance?”

“Yes, please.” Jo smiles as she takes it.

They sweep off together—a beautiful, graceful sight. Josslyn has always been a better dancer than I am. It’s the power that comes naturally to her, while mine is manipulation of air.

“Do you know why she’s a better dancer than you are?” Tomas appears at my shoulder, the slightest of grins touching his lips.

I smile back at him. “Because despite my wishes, I cannot be the best at everything?”

His grin twists up a bit at my quip, and my heart sputters. I can practically hear him say, You’re the best at quite a lot. “It’s because you don’t follow well. In anything.”

“Don’t go pointing that out to Jamys. He might not consider it to be an ideal quality in a wife.”

Tomas doesn’t say anything for a moment. I’d feel guilty for bringing up my betrothal, but it’s only ever bothered me.

He was the first person I told all those months ago. As soon as I got away from my parents and their happy news, I was on my way to him without ever consciously deciding it.

***

The ride to Highbluff Castle blurred by. My mind too muddled for me to decide what I was going to say. So, when I found myself stepping into Tomas’ chambers, I was quite certain I was going to make a fool of myself. There hadn’t even been time to consider how my freedom to move about Highbluff to visit with Jo could have been very convenient if Tomas and I continued to…

He entered from his bedroom, hair still wet from a bath. The neck of his tunic was open to reveal a column of skin down the middle of his chest, and my panic was tempered by a twinge of longing as my fingers twitched against my shaky will to not touch that skin.

---