Page 3 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

Hels.

I gave Lilah a quick hug and sent her off with a playful nudge. “Go find Maelis,” I told her. “You’re late for your afternoon lessons.”

Lilah ran off, still clutching the flowers, singing to herself as she disappeared around the corner, her footsteps echoing down the hall. I watched her go, affection tightening my chest. The marriage alliance stipulated I’d spend half the year in Grey Oak with my husband and half the year here in the Summer Court. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without Lilah’s light in my days for the half-year I was gone.

I hoped she never lost that light.

Or that Heliconia never found a way to snuff it out.

To ensure it, I would give myself to Prince Callan even if he wasn’t any of the things I’d told Lilah I wanted. Even if all I’d ever wanted was to be a warrior, mateless and free like the Aine.

Sunspire’s throne room was grand, all high ceilings and sun-drenched whitestone walls with the banners of Sevanwinds hanging proudly from the ceiling. At the far end, two ornate thrones, also made of whitestone, sat on a dais, beautiful glittering jewels embedded along their plated gold backing. On another platform high above it all stood a whitestone sculpture of the Fates. The curved, singular body portrayed three faces in one; Maiden, Mother, Crone. The goddesses who bestowed their favor—or their disfavor—upon all creatures who walked Menryth. A similar likeness stood inside every temple across the realm, but this one was special.

Mother had once told me the whitestone sculpture and matching thrones had been gifted by the Fates themselves at my royal dedication ceremony. The sculpture had never held much interest for me, but the thrones always drew my attention for some reason.

Lilah and I had sat in them once while our parents were at a dinner—her idea, not mine. The porous surface was meant to absorb power, thus imbuing the stone with strength. They were even more uncomfortable than they looked. Cold and unforgiving with sharp angles and hard edges.

We never bothered to sit in them again.

Currently, they were empty as the king and queen of the Summer Court stood over a long table draped in an emerald silk cloth. Several maps of the fae realms lay spread beforethem, scattered with markers showing the kingdoms, the courts, and the fae who ruled them.

After years of trying to forge alliances with the courts, the only one that had entertained our request was Autumn. According to my father, the river people of Osphiris had spent the one and only meeting they’d attended arguing with the representatives of the Midnight Court—a conflict that had nearly devolved into a physical altercation. The Moriori, though they dutifully attended each meeting, were pacifists and didn’t possess an army large enough. Spring had sent word that they’d consider pledging their support only when we had the allegiance of enough others for theirs to matter. I couldn’t understand the fae’s unwillingness to unite, especially after watching Concordia destroyed in its isolation.

That last meeting had been almost a year ago now. I’d begged my father to let me attend with him, but he refused, telling me to enjoy the months I had left as a blissfully unaware young adult. I’d done exactly that by using my free time to make out with a handsome stable hand. He’d been wrong about my being unaware though. I’d overheard enough conversations to know things were bad for the realm.

Heliconia’s power had grown, as had the frequency of her attacks along our border villages. Our time was running out—I could feel it. Why couldn’t they?

With Grey Oak our only option—and me our only bargaining tool—it had come down to this: a marriage that would join Summer and Autumn into one court. My parents were sacrificing their entire empire to ensure we survived Heliconia’s hatred.

Every time I thought of it, my stomach roiled.

Bracing myself for the conversation that awaited me, I approached them quietly, my footsteps soft against the cool stone beneath me. Father looked up first, his golden crown gleaming in the sunlight. His blue eyes filled withwarmth as they settled on me, though an edge of concern remained in his expression.

My mother took one look at the pants and tunic I wore and frowned. “What are you wearing?”

“Training gear,” I reminded her.

She sent a death glare to the sword I’d strapped to my hip. But I refused to have this argument with her—again. My mother liked to believe a princess was meant to fight her battles through verbal sparring alone.

My father, as usual, broke the tension.

“Aurelia,” he said, motioning for me to sit. “We need to speak about final wedding arrangements.”

I tensed, trying to bite back my usual argument against the idea. “Mother and I have nearly finished planning everything.”

“Except for your dress,” my mother said sternly. Her strawberry blonde hair had fallen over her shoulder in waves, softening her austere features. “I’m told you still haven’t made a final decision on the lace samples I sent you.”

I took a seat across from them, smoothing my tunic as I sat. The stone beneath me felt cold, but I kept my posture straight, my expression composed. Normally, I would have thoroughly enjoyed the fittings and fabric choices and all the trappings that went with a party like this one. But considering this wedding ceremony felt a lot more like a prison than a partnership, I’d been less than enthusiastic about the process.

“I’ll send my choice to the seamstress before the end of the day,” I told her.

She waved me off. “Don’t bother. I already did. I went with the single layer as I think the simplicity is best.”

I nodded, not bothering to argue. The dress was the least of my problems, anyway. I was much more worried about what would happen when I came out of it. Not that sex was a mystery. But the idea of offering myself to someone I hadn’t chosen sent waves ofdisgust through me.

Mother’s voice was quiet but firm as she added, “Callan’s emissary arrived this morning. Callan will be here by nightfall, and we’re expecting you to greet him.”

My heart squeezed, but I ignored it, keeping my voice even as I said, “I’ll be here.”

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