Page 5 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

Highly, highly unlikely.

“Let Lord Balon in,” I tell Riza. “But he must be quick, there is much for me to do tonight.” I watch as another maid packs away one of my favorite dresses and try not to wince at how wrinkled it will be when it’s pulled from the trunks. Then again, I suppose it doesn’t matter. No one’s going to be there to see my dresses, wrinkled or otherwise.

I fight back the urge to cry yet again. I can’t cry. Someone will tell King Lionel, and I’ll be damned if I give that man the satisfaction of knowing that I’m utterly miserable. I put on my best smile and rise from my chair, holding my hands out to greet Lord Balon.

The young lordling rushes in, looking as dashing as ever. He loves bright, loud clothing in the latest fashions, something we’ve discussed for long stretches by the fire. He’s a pretty thing, too, with bright eyes and golden locks of hair that brush against his embroidered collar. “My dear, sweet lady,” he says, taking myhands in his gloved ones. There’s an expression of distress on his face. “I’ve just heard the news. Tell me it’s not true!”

“I’m afraid it is,” I say gently. “My sister Meryliese has gone to the gods, and no one can take her place but me.” I bite back all my bitter, angry words. They’re useless now. If I don’t go into that tower, they’ll force Erynne in my stead. It’s clear Lionel has no love for her, and if there’s one thing I’ve loved in my vain, selfish life, it’s my sister. I won’t send her in my stead, not with her pregnant and wearing the queen’s crown. She can do more good here than in there, and I hope she can stop Lionel’s stupid war before it starts.

Balon’s lower lip trembles, and for a moment, he looks incredibly young. I’d forgotten in our flirting that he’s five years younger than me. Nineteen is perfectly fine for a flirtation and the occasional bed romp—fun, even—but I’m twenty-four.

I’ll be thirty-one when I’m allowed to leave the tower. It’s a sobering thought and it makes me feel old.

“I will speak to the king,” Balon insists. “I will tell him he cannot send you. That we are to be betrothed.”

“It will do no good.” I shake my head and give his hands a tender squeeze. “I appreciate the sentiment, but a betrothal will not save me from my fate. The king means to have his war, and for his ships to sail, I must enter the tower.”

“Then we shall wed tonight,” he says fiercely, a determined look upon his young, pretty face. “And I will wait for your return.”

I manage not to grimace at his words. So it’s not about me, then. It’s about marrying my name and my fortune. Of course it is. “You will find another lady to love, my lord,” I say, keeping my tone as sweet and gracious as I can as I slip my hands from his grip. “But I will make no impulsive actions before entering the tower. You are young. Surely you will find yourself another lady to love.”

“Yes, but she will not be a Vestalin.”

Well at least he’s not hiding his ambitions. I turn back to my nurse and do my best to look busy. “I do this for the good of the kingdom, Balon. If you are yet unwed when I emerge from the tower, seek me out. I will still be a Vestalin then.”

He brightens. “Why, you’re right.” Snagging my hand, he presses a smacking kiss upon it and beams at me. “In seven years then, my sweet lady.”

When he leaves, Riza gives me a disgruntled look. “Why do you always flirt with the stupid ones, my lady?”

I sigh. “Because they’re usually the prettiest ones. I don’t like a man that’s too smart. You can’t trust them.”

“Do you think he’ll truly wait for you?” Riza asks.

I shrug. I’m not going to think about that right now. The thought of all those long, boring days trapped in the tower ahead of me is far too much for me to dwell upon. “I’m going to take it one day at a time.”

And pray to all three gods tonight that they free me from my impending doom.

Chapter

Four

Igo to bed late, after more sessions with Nurse and a few more fittings with the dressmakers. All of my gowns have to be modified to be laced in the front, since no one will be there to help me with my sleeves or my corsets. I collapse in bed, only to be woken up by a face hovering over mine, a candle illuminating my sister’s beautiful face.

“Wake up,” Erynne tells me.

I sit up, all alertness. “Are we escaping?” I ask, a flutter of excitement in my belly. Are we fleeing King Lionel then? It’s an utterly selfish move because it will doom Lionel’s fleet of ships…but it will also destroy the crops for the next several years and make food difficult for all. Yet if Erynne wants to run, I’ll gladly go with her.

My sister shakes her head and hands her candle off to Isabella, who hovers close nearby. “No, I’m afraid not. I cannot leave.” She gestures at her belly. “Not when I carry the heir to the kingdom.”

I collapse back on the bed again and pull a pillow over my face, disappointed. “Then go away. We’ll say our goodbyes in the morning.” My sister’s guilt is likely eating at her, but I don’t want to spend my last night in my own bed comforting her.

“We need to talk,” Erynne tells me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it must be now, when Lionel is in with his war councilors.”

Groaning, I sit up and give my sister a petulant glance. It’s hard not to be a tiny bit resentful of Erynne sometimes. She’s incredibly beautiful, with a slender, perfect figure. I’m the plump, less pretty one, with a wide smile and one tooth that’s slightly twisted and makes me look as if I’m smirking at all times. Erynne is clever and talented and she has the good blood. And the throne. And a baby.

True, she had to marry Lionel for some of those things, but I can still be petty in the middle of the night.

“You have to think about the future, Candra. Promise me that if they take you to the tower, you’re not going to run away. That if you cross the threshold, you’re going to stay there. If you forsake your duty at the last moment, all of us will suffer.”

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