Chapter One
But it was hard being in the presence of a half-elven woman when she herself only had the merest drop of elvish blood. It was like standing in front of the sun. “I hope the flowers are to your liking. It’s an honor to be part of the first royal wedding in many years.” She cleared her throat, trying hard not to stare at the pillowy cushions of the princess’s breasts, which really were impressively high. How did she get them to stand up like that without it hurting? The princess wandered over to the podium, stood on it, and admired her reflection. “A royal wedding that will chain me to a beast. What a wonderful thing it will be.” She could hear the bitterness in the words, and pity flooded through her chest. “You are not... I’m sorry. Did you say a beast?” “You haven’t heard? My father is marrying me off to the trolls. It’s a bid for peace, although I highly doubt such creatures are capable of controlling their baser instincts.” Maia felt all the blood drain out of her face. She grabbed for the nearest object, a chair at the vanity, as she listed to the side. “Trolls?” She’d never seen one herself, of course. They were rarely seen in these parts, but she’d heard they were getting closer. Attacks on the outskirts of the kingdom were becoming more regular. Rumors abound that trolls were tunneling through the ground and coming into homes from the basements. Everyone knew to fear the beastly creatures. They hardly even fought with weapons. They liked to use their massive fists, pounding a man’s skull until it popped into nothing more than gore and brains. “Your father wouldn’t marry you off to one of them... would he?” she asked, her voice quiet as maids suddenly poured into the room. Six maids, each of them in the same black and white outfit. Their skirts kissed the floor, their hair pulled back just as tightly as the beak-nosed woman who still stood at the door. They all lined up against the wall, waiting for Princess Liliana’s command. “I’m a princess. I don’t get to choose who I marry.” Then she looked over her shoulder at Maia, and she swore there was a calculating look on the princess’s face. “Do you get to pick who you marry... I’m sorry, what was your name again?” “Maia, your highness.” It was so strange that a princess wanted to know her name that she almost forgot the original question. Clearing her throat, she shifted from foot to foot as she tried to find the right words. “I cannot marry.” “You cannot? What an odd choice of words.” “My father...” She shouldn’t even be talking about this, but the words still poured out of her. “When my father died, I was his sole heir. If I want to keep the business in my name, and I very much do, then I cannot marry. Whatever I inherited from my father would transfer over to my husband, and there are very few suitors out there who wouldn’t sell the whole thing.” Her father’s business had hardly been his in the end. Maia grew the flowers into the perfect blossoms. She cut them at the right time, making sure all the arrangements were perfect. And yes, it was hard. Few people had a reason to spend money on flowers when there were more important things. But plenty of nobility used to sponsor her father simply so that their homes looked more impressive when people came to visit. Then he’d died. Fewer nobles wanted to give a woman money when she was running the business, even though the product hadn’t changed. The princess turned, looking perfect even though more maids had rushed to attach more fabric onto her back, weaving through the strands of her hair beneath a veil. They draped jewels over her throat and rings on her hands. But the princess’s eyes were on Maia. “Come here,” the princess said, her voice low and melodic. An icy cold wind coiled around her. It seemed to take root in her chest, twisting painfully the longer she stood still. She had to move, even though she didn’t want to. Maia drifted forward as though in a dream, taking one of those bejeweled hands when one was offered to her. She stared in shock as the princess turned her hand over, looking at the callouses on her palm and the dirt underneath her nails before gently kissing her fingertips. “You and I are the same. Stuck in a life we didn’t choose. Unknowing who our husband will be, or if we even want to marry. I feel such kinship with you.” “Kinship, your highness?” “You are alone, are you not?” That stabbed her right in the heart. Because yes, she was. Her mother had died when she’d been very young, and her father had passed last year. It had been hard ever since. Maia had worked her entire life for her father until she’d been little more than skin and bones some years. Even during a good year, she hadn’t time to find friends or even suitors. But it was hard to believe a princess was ever really alone. It was almost as though she said the words out loud. The princess smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You can be surrounded by people and never feel like a single one truly knows you.” Again, that icy cold sensation stabbed at her. What was it? Magic? It felt like some kind of power coiling throughout her entire body. Maia supposed that made sense. Swallowing hard, she tried to tug her hand out of the princess’s grip, only to find that the other woman was gripping onto her a little too tightly. “Your highness?” she asked, trying not to look too afraid in front of the other women in the room. “Are you well?” “I’m fine,” the princess said, but she didn’t appear to be well. “It’s rare to find someone who is so alike me. I’d like you to be in my wedding party, Maia.” She... what? “Excuse me?” Maia asked, certain she hadn’t heard the princess correctly. “I think you would look lovely standing up there next to me. I need someone who won’t look afraid as the trolls come in. You seem like you have a spine of steel and clearly have your wits about you, as a business woman.” But why would a princess want her? They’d never met before today, and even if they had known each other for years, it simply wasn’t done. She wasn’t even remotely nobility. Not in the slightest. “I don’t think—“ The princess snapped her fingers and all the maids moved away from her as one. It was strange to watch them. Every step was synchronized, as though they had planned every moment of this. “I would like Miss Maia to wear a gown of the finest quality. She will stand beside me as the brutes enter our castle grounds, and she will be the first they see. No one will question if she’s afraid, or if I am afraid.” That smile appeared on her face again, so perfect made her appear to be made of stone. “She will be the only one to accompany me to the altar.” “I don’t really want to—“ “I won’t take no for an answer,” the princess interrupted her. Her bright blue eyes turned steely, as though she was unused to anyone even beginning to say the word no to her. “Or would you like me to ask my father to ensure you are there?” No, she didn’t want to catch the attention of the king. He was known throughout their lands for his iron fist and his speed to kill. She’d heard many artisans who came to the castle never returned to their home because their product didn’t provide him with what he needed. “No need,” she whispered. “I’d be honored to be there with you on your wedding day.” Some of the tension leaked out of the princess. She held out both of her hands, waiting for maids to appear underneath and help turn her back toward the mirror. “Good. I simply don’t believe I could do it without you.” What strange words they were, as two more maids gestured for Maia to follow them and drew her toward a dressing room. It was an odd day already, and apparently it was only going to get more strange by the hour.
