Prey

Chapter 1

Last night, I’d go to any lengths to push it from my mind.

My bandaged palm’s throbbing ache and the weary face in the mirror were sharp reminders of it this morning.

Scarlet and I had been avoiding the subject throughout breakfast. Instead, we politely wove absent-minded words about parties and birthdays and debutante balls. But silence is a patient predator. No amount of royal social training could prepare us for it when it crept in. Scarlet, my younger sister, was the first to give.

“So,” she said, voice barely audible across the echoing breakfast hall. The fresh cup of tea in her hands steamed as she put on a show of stirring it, but I could still see the slight shake in her hand. “How should we proceed with that thing from last night?”

As I suppressed a grimace, I inhaled slowly.

I’d inherited our grandmother’s wing in the West Vales Palace, including a study where this thing showed up.

After a long day of moving, my cousins and sister joined me in the wing with a bottle of wine. That was when everything went wrong.

My words came out as a mumble, “What do you propose?” while avoiding Scarlet’s eyes. The memory of that thing flashed across my mind, and I ‌winced as hot tea burned my lips.

“I’m not sure.” Her voice cracked as she lifted the tea to her lips again. She swallowed hard, clenching her jaw.

Her jaw. That thing didn’t even have one. However, it possessed a tongue and an odd compulsion to show it.

“Vienna,” I snapped my eyes to hers, which pierced with intensity. “That thing clearly found enjoyment in terrorizing us.” I turned my head to see the other court members and residents of the royal apartments filling the breakfast hall. Her ranting continued, “And if I remember correctly, it’s now loose in the palace, all because Leo couldn’t keep his hands off that spell.”

“Scar,” I attempted to hush her, eyeing two nobles heading in our direction. We couldn’t risk anyone wondering why the royal West Valesians were dabbling with incantations in the night.

“If we don’t do something-” The nobles sat just a few chairs away, causing her words to trail off, and an annoyed expression to fill her features. She leaned back in her chair with a loud huff.

I understood her worries, that thing’s talons left scrapes in the stone of the hallway. But honestly, I feared our mother discovering what happened more.

I eyed the nobles, happy to shift the conversation, “Dom’s birthday. I forgot to ask what you’ll wear.” He was celebrating his birthday next week here in the West Vales palace.

Scarlet launched into describing her light blue and periwinkle gown, happy to move away from the topic of last night. “Are you wearing the Crown of Moonlight?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

“No,” my eyebrows scrunched. “My jewelry is silver; the Crown is gold.”

And it was in that study. I sipped my tea.

She seemed surprised, her royal facade absent as her eyebrows went up. “Silver?” She clung to the edge of the table, leaning in. “You never wear silver.” She squinted hard at me and dragged her eyes over my body.

I presented the information with an air of finality, clarifying that her argument would not be considered. “Christian and I are wearing steel-blue. He coordinated. Gold would clash.”

Under the table, I played with the corner of my napkin between my fingers. If the choice were mine, I’d wear gold. But that doesn’t matter.

For the past year, Christian, the Prince of Tetford, had been courting me. My mother, and almost certainly my grandmother, the Queen, would be beyond disappointed if I failed at marrying him.

My sister twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger, it hanging from her updo. “When you’re crowned queen, do you still plan to allow the man to dictate your attire?”

Fixing her with a deliberate stare, I squeezed the napkin in my hand. “Scarlet, he isn’t dressing me against my will-,” As I recalled the company seated down the table, a wave of self-consciousness came over me. “-he has an eye for aesthetics. It would be discourteous not to respect it.”

She scoffed dramatically, not afraid of the onlookers.

It was another half-truth. One must admit though, the Prince of Tetford was quite the trendsetter.

This wing of the palace should have felt like a reward, a graduation gift, a rite of passage to become queen. The legacy instead felt like a burden.

I stood there, staring at that burden, the door to my new study.

Four scrapes sliced neatly in the brick from where it gripped the door frame on its way out.

I shifted my eyes down the hall.

A palace staff member knelt, dusting the wooden door of the bathing chamber. He used a tiny brush to dust the scales of an enormous, spiraling sea serpent. Palace builders from the old continent favored mythical beasts, decorating most of their structures with them. Unsettling theories described faraway lands where these monsters lived. Scarlet once told me of fantastical magic that granted them the power to slip to other lands with just an inch of travel.

This moment felt comparable, as if opening the study door would propel me to last night. Drawing a steady breath, I pushed the door open, inch by inch, scanning for anything that might send me slamming it shut again.

Morning’s gentle illumination transformed the room. Rays of sun played with the chandelier’s dangling glass crystals and refracted small rainbows on various surfaces.

An enormous rug stretched across the seating area, with a corner still flipped from our panicked frenzy. On an end table, a bottle of wine rested, and our four glasses sat across the room on different surfaces. A second bottle of wine lay in fragments across the floor near the desk.

Everything remained where we’d left it. This meant the staff hadn’t seen the mess yet. I peeked at the man cleaning the bathing chamber door and, in a swift motion, closed myself into the study.

On the far wall were shelves packed with curious objects from faraway lands. Now that the lighting was decent, I finally could examine them. I moved closer, taking a cautious step over a fallen chair.

The collection included old swords, military awards, extravagant artworks, and peculiar, costly objects of unknown purpose. Scarlet, engrossed in her studies of Mystical Creatures and Sentient Species, would find immense joy in examining them.

Moving to the window, I rested my palms on the cool, smooth sill ‌and gazed down at the garden spread out below. Workers scattered across the dying greenery, pruning and gathering for the coming winter.

From this view, I could see the training grounds beyond the perfectly trimmed hedges. Many of the royal military personnel were training outdoors, not letting the pleasant autumn weather go to waste.

In the heat of a ferocious sword fight, my youngest cousin Leonardo caught my eye, dueling in a ring. A crown hung around the edges, likely making bets on who’d win.

Thinking about how I’d mock him at dinner made me smile. The royal fool of a prince had so much confidence that it was often difficult to keep from harassing him. Guilt was quick to hollow my amusement, though.

Training swords clashed, sliced, and struck with a force that sent open-mouthed war cries from the two as the fabric attached to their shoulder plates fanned and whipped. Leo’s offenses and defenses were stemming not from training but from some dark internal turmoil.

As I backed away from the scene outside, I worried about the mental state of the often playful man. I’d deal with it later; at the moment, covering up the disaster from last night was my priority.

Just as I was finishing cleaning up the scene, Serene, my lady-in-waiting, burst through the door to hand-deliver an anonymous note.

Crimson River Pub — 8pm