Page 73 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
Before she could find the right words in his language to tell him exactly what she thought of him, the ballroom doors burst open.
Chapter twenty-one
Arickhadlongedallday to be near Sorcha — and now, with her finally by his side, he hated that etiquette compelled him to let her dance with another. From outside the tall windows, twilight crept in, swallowing the edges of the sea in shadow. It was a reminder of how little time she had left.
He drummed his fingers against his leg, fighting the urge to walk over and cut in. The sharp tinkle of glass made him turn. A young servant girl was crouched near the wall, gathering shards from a shattered goblet.
Before Arick could move to help, Thomas was already there, kneeling beside her. The prince offered a few quiet words as he helped collect the fragments, and the girl smiled as she carried the pieces away.
Thomas looked around for Cookie, spotting the little dog making friends with the young son of the ambassador from Fenmere. Thomas joined the party, and soon their indifferent expressions vanished as everyone lit up around the prince.
Arick shook his head. PeoplelovedThomas. He carried an infectious joy that drew others to him. But was that enough to stop the naysayers?
“He’s going to be a great king someday,” a soft voice at his elbow said.
Arick glanced down at Ailsa, a delight in a pink shimmering dress similar to Sorcha’s but with skirts twice as wide. The determination in her eyes belied the frothy confection of her gown. He nodded.
“Yes. He will.”
And he meant it.
“Father’s about to make the speech. Unless there’s a reason he shouldn’t?” The words were a challenge.
Arick looked chagrined. “You know.”
“Of course I know,” she scoffed. “It’s my castle. I live here.”
He laughed. Of course she knew. And of course she believed in her brother. Just like he had — before everything had gotten so complicated. With Ailsa on his side, Thomas could hardly fail. “Excuse me,” he said with a slight bow. “I need to speak with the next king of Toravik.”
With one eye following a head of red curls above a shimmering blue dress among the dancers, Arick threaded his way through the crowd toward Thomas.
“…dog in the ballroom,” the Edelish representative muttered, just loud enough to draw attention.
Arick’s fist clenched as he spun around, intent on cutting off the man before Thomas heard.
But the prince was already smiling up at the gaunt, angular man towering over him. “Cookie isn’t just my pet,” he explained. “He’s trained to help me if I have trouble with my breathing or other difficulties.”
His lips curled in mockery. “A prince who needs a lapdog to steady him? Charming.”
Arick stepped up beside his cousin. “Support isn’t weakness. Even you serve your king in your own way.”
“Are you comparing me to a dog?”
“If I am, then I’m comparing myself as well. I am here to support and advise Thomas in any way he sees fit.”
The man looked between the cousins, then moved off with a sniff.
Thomas turned to him, hope flickering behind the uncertainty. “Do you mean that?”
“I do,” Arick assured him. “You are the true prince. And I will stand by you — as an advisor, on your council, whatever you need. This kingdom wasn’t built by bending to pressure, and we’re not going to start now.”
Thomas’s whole face lit up, and for a moment Arick thought he might throw his arms around him on the spot.
But before either could say another word, the ballroom doors slammed open.
A guard stumbled in, breathless, his uniform dripping. He halted at the top of the stairs, panting.
“The city is flooding!”
