Page 89 of A Song of Shadow and Starlight

"Stop calling him that!" I shout, cutting the king off. "You don't actually know if Bastian intends to wage war against the other kingdoms. You have no proof that Bastian intends to unleash some ancient evil to conquer the known world. And to spread such vicious rumors is unbecoming of a man of your status."

Everyone stiffens, as if I've sucked all of the air out of the room. Even Nyx, in all his playfulness, gawks at me with eyes as wide as saucers.

I lost my temper and more than likely sealed my fate to a short-lived life in the dungeons of Castle Black, awaiting my public execution. If anyone dared to speak to my father with the tone and defiance I showed the King of Tronovia, they'd be begging on hands and knees for a swift end. I hold my breath, and can feel my heartbeat slow, waiting for the king to say something. But he doesn't speak. Not immediately. He looks just as shocked as the other men in the room, but his eyes are filled with compassion. It's the only hope I have that he'll show me leniency when it comes to punishing my outburst.

"Are you trying to convince me of that? Or yourself?"

His words come out softly and feel like a punch to my gut. How can he not be angry?

"I know it must be difficult to hear such awful things about someone you love, but I wouldn't speak it if it were not so. As I said before, I believe we can help one another."

I tilt my chin upwards, attempting to hold on to what little dignity I have left. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I will have you escorted to my personal ship and sail you back to Midori." He smirks at the flash of surprise on my face. "What?" He quirks an eyebrow. "Did you think I would harm you? Torture you? Toss you in a dungeon for defying me?" When I don't answer, his eyes soften as he waves everyone out. "Leave us. I wish to speak to the Princess alone."

I spare Atlas a quick glance before he, Nyx, Ronan, and all of the soldiers exit. When the doors close, and it's truly just the two of us in the throne room, the king shimmies his fur robe from his shoulders, sets his crown on the armrest of his throne, and descends the steps toward a wet bar I failed to notice when I first arrived.

He motions toward the glass bottles. "Do you drink wine, Ilaria? May I call you Ilaria?"

"I prefer Shaye, and yes, I drink wine."

"Well, Shaye," he smiles and pours two glasses of red wine, "now that it is just us, I believe we can speak our minds freely."

"Are you sure you're ready for my candor?" I accept the glass when he extends it and I take a moment to swirl the red liquid and sniff, detecting hints of floral and intense berry aromas.

King Soren watches me intently before taking a sip of his own drink. "I'm not only ready for your candor, but I welcome it. It's refreshing to speak with someone who isn't afraid of me." He tips his head toward the double glass doors leading to the balcony overlooking Tronovia and the Crescent Bay harbor. "Would you care to join me on the terrace? I prefer being outdoors when the opportunity presents itself."

I oblige and follow him outside. The view from up here is breathtaking. I can see the entire city below and the countless canals running through the kingdom. To my left, I see Calmara, the library where I'm hoping to find answers to my questions, and to my right, I see the School of Magic, where all fire wielding Tronovians hone their craft. If I squint, I can even make out the tips of the crescent of the city, where all the rich and elite live in their mansions along the bay.

The king clears his throat and rests his elbows on the stone railing, spurring me to do the same.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Shaye."

"Alright," I nod my head and dig deep to find the courage to speak my mind freely. "Since Atlas already told you about my Frost Elf features and light magic –"

"Forgive me for interrupting you already, my dear, but my nephew didn't inform me of your change of appearance or newly discovered power."

"But how else could you know, if Atlas didn't tell you?"

"You had a run in with my son last night. Ronan has many strengths, but unfortunately, he can't keep a secret." Being this close to him, I can see the handsome crows feet at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. There's pride beaming in his brown eyes when he mentions his son and it reminds me that even though this man is a powerful king, responsible for thousands of lives, he's also a husband and father doing what he believes is best for his own family. My tutors and parents would be appalled, if they knew I was seeing Soren in this new light.

And now I understand why Atlas looked pale and just as confused as me when the king already knew about my features and magic.

"Despite what you say," he continues when I remain silent, "I know you didn't come here because you wanted to. I've not survived being a king and parent this long and not recognize the tell-tale signs that I'm being blatantly lied to. I'm not so easily fooled. You were protecting my nephews, sparing them punishment. Why?"

My cheeks flush and I take a sip of wine in hopes that the goblet will hide my face. I set the glass down and turn to face him fully. "When I said I formed a kinship with your nephews, I meant it. I might not have wanted to come here originally, but half-way through our journey, I told Atlas I desired to come to Tronovia to get answers to all my unanswered questions – to learn the truth, not only about myself, but about Bastian and my parents too. He promised he would help me, and I trusted his word."

My answer seems to satisfy his curiosity. "My nephews might be brash, but they certainly mean well." He takes a long sip of his drink, peering out across the harbor. "Now, about us forming an alliance..."

"If you are asking me to betray my people in pledging myself to you in exchange for the resources to discover who I truly am, that is something I can't do. I might not look Midorian anymore, but the sand lands flow through my veins. I may be many things, but I am not a traitor."

Hearing the bitterness in my tone, the king squares his shoulders to mine and quietly stares at me, as if he's mulling over his next words carefully. "I do not wish to insult you, nor do I desire for you to betray your people. I only ask that you see Bastian for what he is – a threat. Not just to me. Not just to the other kingdoms. But to you as well. What do you think will happen if you marry him? Does he answer to you as heir to the throne? Or will you answer to him as your king and husband?"

I swallow hard. We both know once I marry Bastian, my title is just that. There is no power behind my voice. I will be one of many servants. The only difference is, I would bear a crown and share my master's bed.

He taps his glass and nods when I don't respond. "I was there, you know. The Great War. I fought in many battles – lost many friends and countrymen to defeat Drogon and his minions of evil. I even fought beside your father, when he was a newly anointed king."

The change in subject nearly knocks me off my feet. "You knew my father?" He's never mentioned fighting in The Great War before, much less that he fought alongside the King of Tronovia as allies.

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