Sea of Starlight (The Riven Kingdoms #2) - Shari L. Tapscott Page 0,37

see him. “Oh, hello, Edwin.”

She snaps her book closed and rises from her stone perch, as graceful as a doe. I see her every evening, but she still steals my breath.

“Good afternoon, Cassia,” Edwin says, his tone changing to something affectionate. It’s obvious he cares greatly for his sister.

The princess turns her light green eyes on me, and I study her in the sunlight. She wears her auburn hair up today, and every strand is in place. Her skin is fair, like milk, likely from living most of her life protected in the castle walls. She’s slender and soft—she almost looks fragile.

Seeing Cassia with her book, surrounded by hothouse flowers, makes it difficult to connect her with the woman who stormed into my room with fire and determination in her gaze, and singlehandedly took down the curiper. I have the irrational desire to protect this girl, but the truth is, she’s stronger than I am.

“Hello, Braeton,” she adds as if it’s an afterthought. “Are you enjoying our garden?”

“It’s far different from the world outside the walls.”

Her smile dims, and I wish I could take the words back. Softly, she says, “Yes.”

“How much of the kingdom did you see on your journey to Arowood?” Edwin asks, making it sound as though I arrived here by carriage to a warm welcome.

“Well, I was blindfolded, so not much,” I say with a smile.

Edwin has the decency to wince, but Cassia presses her lips together, trying not to laugh.

I appreciate her all the more for it. It’s ridiculous, since Edwin is her brother, but I feel as though she’s on my side—the two of us against all Draegan.

Maybe she’ll help me escape.

The thought makes me freeze. No, it’s impossible. As friendly as the princess is, she wouldn’t betray her family any more than Amalia would.

But what if I promised aid? If I swore to forgive them for their wrongdoings—atrocious and numerous as they are? Would Cassia help me then?

Could I protect Amalia from this wicked plot and keep my kingdom safe?

22

“I’m bored of this,” Calvert says, dramatically dropping his head to the center of the open book in front of him. “It’s nice out today. Can’t I begin my archery lessons early?”

I glance at the window, staring into the charred forest—a sight so familiar, I almost forget those trees were once alive. The sky is blue, and the temperatures have been warming. Soon, when spring shifts to summer, the sun will be scorching. But today, it looks pleasant.

I’m just as eager to leave the castle as my young brother.

“One more page,” I tell him halfheartedly, gesturing to the worn textbook. He’s the last to use it. It started as Edwin’s. Rhys, Tryndon, and I were close enough in age to share it, and now it’s Calvert’s.

We’ve never had a proper tutor. Mother taught us all we needed to know. Now that she’s ill, I teach Calvert. I don’t enjoy the task, and neither does he. It’s a dangerous combination—one that often leads us both into trouble.

“Please, Cassia,” Calvert begs, pressing his lips together and widening his dark brown eyes.

“You look like a goose,” I say, poking his side, making him laugh. “And no, we must finish something. Father lectured me for a whole hour the last time I let you out early.”

My young brother rolls his eyes and scowls at the history book. “Why do I need to know all these boring dates? When will I use them when I’m a knight? I need to kill things, Cassia, not spew boring facts at them.”

“That might kill them,” I tease. “They might fall over, bored to literal death.”

Oddly pleased by that thought, Calvert begins reading aloud once more. I idly listen to him, secretly sharing his sentiments. Rhys enjoyed the history lessons, but I did not.

I preferred the songs penned by the wandering bards and the books of stories. When I was young, my favorites were tales of adventure. People going to new places, discovering new things.

Escaping their lives to pursue different ones.

“Cassia,” Calvert says, sounding as though he’s already said my name several times.

My attention snaps back to him. I didn’t even notice he’d stopped reading. “What?”

“The fae betrayed us,” he says, pointing at a sentence. “It says that we were friendly with them, that they lived amongst us peaceably. Then they created the Chasm and set monsters loose in our kingdom.”

“Yes.”

“What happened? Why did they secretly hate us?”

“I don’t know. They just…did.”

“But they must have had a grudge against just Draegan,” he says,