Page 18 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“Ah, so the rumors of Delasurvian horses are true. Bred to speed into battle.” The king’s chortle echoes in the room.

“I hope you are not too weary after days of travel.” The queen comes closer, her lips parting slightly as she smiles at me. “We’ve organized a welcome ball so that we may introduce you properly to the court.”

A ball is the last thing I’m up for, but my uncle’s telepathic voice in my head warns me not to disappoint the queen.

“A ball sounds lovely,” I tell her. “I’m so grateful for the gesture. I would just need to freshen up.”

A creak cuts through the space, and I turn to see a tall figure enter.

He isn’t dressed too formally, which strikes me immediately. Instead of a suit jacket, he wears a simple yet elegant white shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his strong forearms, and the top button is undone. Over it, a dark vest fits snugly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. His sun-bleached, blond hair is longer than I remember, the gentle waves hitting the middle of his ear, swept back casually but still managing to look effortlessly regal.

He has grown into a fine man, I realize, my heart skipping a beat. The boyish features I remember have matured into a chiseled jawline and high cheekbones. His blue eyes, once full of mischief, now hold a depth and intensity that I find captivating. Distractingly so. And he moves with a confidence that commands the room, his presence absolutely magnetic.

He wears no crown, which makes me feel a bit ridiculous in my tiara.

As he approaches, a smile spreads across his face, and I see a flicker of the boy I once knew. “Celeste?” His voice is rich and smooth.

I falter, not sure if I should curtsey for him. “Hello, Your Highness.”

“No, no. I’ll have none of that.” He lets out a short laugh. “My betrothed should address me by name. Besides, we’ve known each other since we were children. We’re old friends by now.”

I give him a curt nod. “Torbin.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this: I’ve always remembered you as pretty, but you’ve certainly blossomed into a beautiful woman.”

I’m not usually swayed by such compliments, but his charm makes it easy to understand why he’s the subject of courtier gossip. “You flatter me. You’ve blossomed a bit yourself.”

There’s a moment between us of shared memory, a fleeting connection that feels both familiar and strange. The years apart have transformed us both, but the bond of our childhood lingers, weaving through the formalities and the expectations that surround us.

The king chortles. “Well, I can see we’ve made a good match,indeed. Yes, a nice pair. All the easier to settle the terms of our agreement.”

I shoot a questioning look at my uncle, but it dissolves almost immediately when he subtly shakes his head. I thought the terms were that I marry King Silas’s son with the prospect of one day in the future providing heirs to both our lands, and in turn the king uses Hedera’s resources to support Delasurvia.

King Silas returns to his throne, sitting back and tilting his head. There’s a slight smirk playing on his lips that makes it seem like he’s just lured us into a trap.

I pray that’s not the case.

“From our side, I have arranged counsel with Mersos, informing them of our alliance so that we may iron out a trade agreement for Delasurvia.” The king taps his fingertips together. “In order for this to go over smoothly, I will announce that Delasurvia will, as of today, cease harboring refugees from Dulcamar.”

“What?” My hands are balled into fists, my heart cinching in my chest.

“The decree will state that the rescues will stop, and no Dulcamarans may cross the borders into Hedera or Delasurvia.”

My words come out through clenched teeth. “That’s out of the question.”

“Celeste, please hear him out.”

I glare at my uncle before turning back to the king.

King Silas raises a hand, signaling for me to wait. “This is just a temporary hold. Do not worry. We need to assure good faith with Mersos first, bring the Delasurvian citizens out of starvation, and calm the fires of the protestors. We need to wait until citizens of all lands settle and get comfortable with their new queen. Once all that is established, we can deliberate options for those seeking refuge from the Shadow Tsar’s oppressive reign.”

Deliberate? Options?What does that mean? I glance at Torbin, wondering if he is aware of these terms, but his expression tells me this is all news to him. His brow wrinkles and his arms are crossed as he listens.

“Trust me,” the king continues. “These things take time and are better left to wise men in high positions. My royal advisor, Farvis, ensures me that this strategy will work best.” He gestures to the man with the nearly white eyes.

Farvis steps forward and gives a slight bow, his hands balled at his sides. His gaze is shrewd, as if he’s still trying to assess me.

I turn back to the king and open my mouth to object, but my uncle’s voice resounds in my head.

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