Page 3 of Crown of Roses
Maeve pressed her lips together and rolled the snide comment off her back. “Apologies, Mother. When you requested my presence, I assumed you meant immediately.”
“And I assumed you’d be smart enough to make yourself presentable.” Carman waved a slender hand through the air. “No matter.”
There was a beat of silence, long enough for shame to carve its way into Maeve’s heart. Carman’s guards stood at attention behind her, blocking Maeve from the throne room. She’d been banished from there for as long as she could remember. She had no idea what it looked like, and couldn’t recall a day when she’d caught more than a glimpse of its interior. Her mother always met her here, in the doorway, like she was some sort of commoner.
Carman clasped her hands together. “I wanted to ensure you haven’t forgotten about my guests tonight. Distinguished business owners and other important patrons from the city will be arriving within the hour.”
Maeve clenched her jaw tight. Guests only meant one thing; a contract negotiation followed by dinner and dancing. Nothing Maeve had ever been privy to, because her mother liked to pretend as though she ceased to exist. Whenever nobility arrived to pay their respects or ask for assistance, she was told to make herself scarce. It didn’t matter if everyone knew she was alive, if rumors circulated of how and why she was cursed. None of it mattered when she was blatantly ignored.
“I expect you will be on your best behavior.” Carman arched one pointed brow.
“Of course, Mother.” Maeve dipped her head.
“Good. That will be all.” Carman’s words were clipped and she spun away, allowing the large wooden doors to slam shut in Maeve’s face.
She waited for a moment, processing the rejection, and accepting her fate. The pain in Maeve’s shoulder had gone numb. She barely even felt it anymore. The barbs from her mother were often the same. Painful at first, sharp even, but she’d grown used to them over the years—all twenty-four of them—and was accustomed to locking such feelings away because her mother made one thing perfectly clear.
Maeve would never be worthy of the crown.
Chapter Two
Maeve wasted no time after her mother’s dismissal.
She returned to her room, one of the last actual bedrooms before the servant’s quarters. It was smaller, and not as decadent, but it had everything she needed, most importantly her own bathroom. Not that she was shy or timid about her body, but she couldn’t imagine having to share a cramped suite with five other women.
After showering and scrubbing away the grime and sweat from her body and hair, Maeve inspected the wound on her shoulder. Or at least, what was left of it. The burning had subsided and though the skin was still slightly pink, there was no mark. No proof she’d even been cut.
She tugged on a pair of leggings that were as snug as they were useful with all of their convenient pockets. She grabbed another linen shirt and though she knew it would be unbearable with the heat, she laced herself into a corset, just in case. Carman reenforced the boning with magic, so the corset acted more like armor as opposed to something only meant to give the appearance of a skinny waist and ample breasts. Her hair was still damp and hung nearly to the middle of her back in a mess of curls. She finished dressing then slid one hand under her pillow, and her entire body reverberated when her fingers clasped around the hilt of her dagger.
Maeve held the weight of it in her hands. Its power caused her skin to tingle. It was iridescent and reflected all the colors of the world: the sun and sky, the mountains and seas, and the rose of dawn. She’d found it by chance one day when she was seventeen, after wandering into the Moors just west of Kells. It had been a sweltering day, with temperatures climbing so high, she thought she would melt. Humidity clung to her skin and left her hair a tangle of frizz. She’d ventured into the Moors in search of shade and cooler air to escape the heat, and what she’d discovered instead had been a lake.
Its surface was smooth, a reflective mirror to the world of overgrowth, trees, and wildflowers surrounding it. The water was crystal clear, a separate world all its own. She’d peeled off every piece of sweaty clothing, dropped them in a pile on a rock, and waded in. She didn’t know how long she’d stayed, soaking in waters that moved around her bare skin like cool silk. Floating on her back, her eyes drifted closed as faint threads of sunlight sprinkled in through the overhang of dense trees. She wasn’t a strong swimmer, thanks to her endless torment of the cage, but she could float and hold her breath. Basic yet necessary survivor skills. It was only when she was getting ready to leave, that she noticed a glint beneath the surface—a shifting of colors. She sucked in a deep breath and reached toward the shimmering object. Her fingers sorted through pebbles and silt, when her hands grasped something warm despite the cold stillness of the lake.
The dagger glimmered with ethereal beauty. Maeve kept it close to her ever since, strapped to her thigh.
She tucked the blade into her sheath and slipped out the west gate of the castle, toward Kells. She had no entourage, no guards to follow her around and keep a close watch. For the most part, she was able to move freely. Since no one outside of the castle walls recognized her as the princess, she was perfectly capable of blending in and taking care of herself.
The Ridge deposited Maeve into the heart of the vibrant, bustling city. Shops yawned open, and their brightly colored awnings stretched out onto the cobblestone pathway in greeting. Music flowed from a local cafe, and the market was already teeming with vendors setting up their tables and offering a wide variety of wares. There were stalls of the finest fabrics, fresh fruit and vegetables, handmade pottery and arts, as well as freshly baked bread and treats. The fountain in the center of Kells gurgled to life while children ran around it in circles, their laughter echoing up to the rooftops.
A little girl spun round and round with outstretched arms, her face tilted up to the sun, and she nearly collided head first into Maeve.
Maeve caught her by the shoulders and smiled. “Careful, little one.”
The girl grinned up at her with a sugar-dusted face. “Sorry, miss.” Then she pulled a flower from the bundle of stems clasped tightly in her small grip, and held it up to Maeve. “Here. This is for you.”
Maeve knelt down and accepted the flower. It was a blue wildflower, usually found along the coast. She stuck the blossom behind one ear and smiled as the girl ran off to join her friends.
She was considering heading down one of the side streets and following the delicious scent of something tart and lemony, when the cool fingers of trepidation slid down her spine. She recognized the sensation instantly.
She was being followed.
Maeve drifted through the maze of people and tents, careful to look oblivious, and ducked into a side alley right as a thick layer of clouds floated in from off the coast. On instinct, she pressed her back firmly against the brick wall and waited. Not even a minute later, a shadowy figure darted down the same alley, and Maeve launched forward, forcing her forearm to the windpipe of her stalker.
Summer blue eyes blinked at her in surprise and a slow smile spread across her would-be assailant’s face. “You’re getting better, Your Highness.”
Maeve stepped back and released her hold. She rolled her eyes to the heavens where clouds started to drift in, hiding the warmth of the sun. “You could’ve just asked to come with me, Saoirse.”
“And where’s the fun in that? It’s a far better idea to keep you on your guard.” Saoirse winked and tossed her braid over her shoulder. Silvery blonde hair the color of moonlight twisted back into a smooth plait, and tucked behind one ear was a magenta orchid. She always wore a flower in her hair. She told Maeve once that flowers helped to disguise the stench of blood. Two daggers were strapped to her thighs, and a sword was at her waist. She was lethal. Savage. Trained to be unstoppable, and she was one of Casimir’s most elite warriors.
