A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(3)
My racing heart plummeted into my gut. Not at the promise, but at the reason why he could make such a promise:
Once your sister and I are married.
That was why he was here. On the full moon, it would be our twentieth birthday, and they would finally fulfill the marriage that had been arranged since before our births. The Crimson Princess would marry the Silver Wolf of Damrienn for the good of the pack.
Shame burned inside of me at my bitterness. Neither of us were children anymore, though I still preferred climbing trees to rouging my cheeks. I knew we all had a role to play. I reminded myself of Vellia’s words, the ones she told me and my sister over and over again. That the fate of our kingdom depended on this marriage and the money and soldiers that came with it. With the might of the Damrienn army, we could reclaim the fallen Gold Wolf kingdom. This was how daughters of kings gained power—through marriages and alliances. Briar would rally support through tea parties and balls, and, as her guard, I’d muster it with my sword. I was definitely getting the better end of the deal, training in secret to be a killer instead of a dainty, poised princess.
It was the whole reason we had hidden ourselves in this quiet village.
The realization still hit me like a blow, however.
As if on cue, a rook cawed overhead, taunting me, and I pressed on. Grae fell into stride beside me.
“I’d still prefer we don’t discuss these things until we are in Highwick,” I muttered.
Grae chuckled. “As you wish, little fox.”
Little fox. He kept saying it, and it kept sounding different now, even though it was the only nickname I’d ever had. Briar wouldn’t even appreciate how good it felt to be noticed by someone like Grae. I clenched my fists as we walked, knowing I should focus more on the coming battles than on the handsome prince beside me. The pack was more important than my desires.
I looked around to distract myself. The streets began filling with people as the royal carriages wheeled out of Allesdale. Only Grae and I knew they wouldn’t be rolling into the next town, but veering off toward Vellia’s cabin in the woods. Grae and his guards would stay the night, and we’d leave at first light for our long journey back to the capital.
Grae pulled his hood up again, hiding his visage in shadow as I scanned the dreary stone buildings. I wouldn’t miss this drab little town. The haggard faces of villagers watched us as we climbed the hill. The townsfolk had always been wary of Vellia, and Briar and I by association. An old lady living alone in the woods garnered rumors she was a sorceress. Little did they know, Vellia was indeed magical, but she was no witch.
The road inclined, steeper with each step. I welcomed the pleasant burn of my muscles as I hastened to keep up with Grae’s long legs. I savored this last moment together, just the two of us. I peeked at him, unable to see his eyes from the shadows of his hood, but somehow knowing he looked back at me. Despite all my eagerness to leave, I would miss this—two friends without titles or grand destinies. That daydream would end as soon as we reached the hidden cabin in the woods where his betrothed waited.
We hurried along, yet all I wanted to do was linger. I couldn’t do that, though. Not to Grae. Not to Briar.
All things must come to an end—even if it’s just a walk through the woods.
Two
The dense canopy high above us cast cool shadows down the forest trail. My fingers brushed over the moss dripping from the trees as we fell into easy conversation. We crunched through the leaves, following the thin rivulets the carriage wheels carved down the path. Grae told me the latest news from Damrienn. Drought had hit the farms over the summer and his father was even more surly than usual, but the city had the upcoming wedding to buoy their spirits. News had apparently spread like wildfire that the Crimson Princess was not only alive but also about to marry their crown prince.
Rumors had swirled for years that the last of the Gold Wolf line yet lived, that the Marriel princess named Briar had survived the fateful night of her birth . . . but no one whispered about another named Calla. The world had searched for my twin sister these twenty long years, but I remained a shadow behind the dream of the Crimson Princess. After two decades, we would finally be able to reveal our secret: not one Marriel survived that night, but two.
Not that I thought the world would care all that much—they’d still focus everything on Briar, as they should. I was very content to let her bear all the scrutiny of court life while I watched—and plotted—from the shadows.
Grae reached out and hooked his finger along the chain of my necklace. He pulled until the amber stone lifted above my neckline and smiled. “You still wear it.”
“Of course I do,” I said, my skin tingling where his knuckle grazed my collarbone. “When a prince gives you a protection stone, you wear it.”
His cheeks dimpled. “Does Briar still wear hers?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.” He chuckled, snapping a budding white flower off a low branch and passing it to me. “I can smell the lie on you as easily as I smell the perfume in the trees.”
I scanned through the summer forest, resplendent with flowers. The woods surrounding our cabin were filled with as many memories as the cabin itself. Every full moon of our youth, Briar and I would prowl into the dark forest, hoping Grae would appear. That was seven years ago . . . I still had his last correspondence in my dresser drawer. Along with his letters came two necklaces—a ruby for Briar and an amber for me. I had wondered if Grae had selected the stones for the shades of our hair every time I had read my now-crinkled letter. Briar’s letter was two pages long, but mine was only a brief paragraph: