The prince and the serving girl

Elrick and Anura have been in love since they were children. Everyone knows it. Everyone pretends not to see it. Because he’s the prince, and she scrubs dishes in the palace kitchen, and some barriers can never be crossed.

Until the Council of Mayors demands Elrick marry a foreign princess to secure an alliance.

Until Anura realizes she’s about to lose him forever.

Here’s an exclusive sneak peek at Bride of Secrets & Whispers, coming this February!

CHAPTER ONE – Elrick

I decide to ignore the tiny, dancing flashes of light around the edges of my vision, just like I’m ignoring the dull throb at my temple. Those could just be my eyes adjusting to the shift in the light when I stepped into the stables. And this could just be a regular headache.

And maybe I’ll find a unicorn in here while I’m at it. I snort, then shake my head.

“Looking for a place to hide?” my sister asks.

I glance down the row of stalls and see the Princess of Marion, with a shovel in her hand, standing over a pile of fresh horse crap. She’s wearing a stained apron, and there’s a smear of dirt on her cheek.

If only the Prince of Etheria could see her now, my mind whispers. But the thought leaves me feeling cold. My sister has been bethrothed to that prince for her entire life. You’d think by now I’d be used to the idea of losing her.

“I’m doing the same thing as you, I suppose,” I tell her, with a grin.

Lilias bends down to scoop the pile of crap into the wheelbarrow at her side, but not before I see her smile.

“It’s not my job to meet with them,” she says, as manure hits the wheelbarrow with a wet thud.

I glance through the open stable doors and into the palace courtyard. A dozen horses stand at their hitching posts outside, most with elegant carriages behind them. Their riders are all inside the palace. Waiting for me.

“They’re like vultures,” I tell her, “trying to pick me over before the meeting.”

Her shovel scrapes the last of the pile off the floor, and she shakes her head.

“I swear Sunshine does this on purpose,” she says. “Every time she gets her hooves trimmed, she takes a dump in the middle of the stables.”

“Sunshine,” I say. I rub my shoulder, remembering the time that damn horse threw me into a thornbush. “She’s a real peach.”

My sister grabs the wheelbarrow and grins at me. “Well, would you rather face the Council of Mayors?” she asks.

I shake my head at the impossible choice.

“I was so proud when Father handed the Council off to me,” I say. “I thought he was preparing me to take the throne. Little did I know he was just giving me a different pile of shit to shovel.”

Lilias laughs, then starts to push the wheelbarrow toward the open door at the far end of the stables. I follow her, ignoring the low pulse of pain in my temple.

“You’ve done a good job with them,” she says.

I shrug, then take the shovel from the wheelbarrow.

“No, really,” she continues, pushing the wheelbarrow through the open doors. “Half of those cities didn’t even tithe before you took over the Council.”

“They’re only paying now because we’re fixing the bridges,” I grumble.

“Exactly,” Lilias replies.

She tips the wheelbarrow over, dumping the load onto the manure pile. I help scrape the last bits out with the shovel, then leave it leaning against the side of the stables next to the wheelbarrow. Lilias takes off her apron and hangs it inside the door.

“What’s the meeting about this time?” she asks.

“The usual, I assume,” I reply. “Winter is too cold. Summer is too hot. And they’d probably like me to do something about the way the sun rises in the east.”

Lilias laughs at that. Her beautiful, full laugh rings through the stables like bells in a temple. A few of the horses stick their heads out of their stalls as if they want to know the joke. 

It won’t just be me who misses her once she’s gone, I realize with a pang.

We reach the doors to the courtyard, and she turns to me with a frown.

“It’s about the mine, isn’t it?” she asks.

I wince at the flood of sunlight filling the courtyard. Pain throbs through my skull.

“I’m sure it is,” I reply. “What else could it be?”

Lilias gives me a half-hearted smile. “Good luck,” she says. “I’d hug you, but I don’t think you want to face the Council smelling like the back end of a horse.”

I laugh. “They’ll be gone by this afternoon,” I tell her. “In case you needed another reason to stay in here for the morning.”

“I do need to bandage Thunder’s leg,” she says, glancing at the stall holding the massive black stallion who somehow managed to hurt himself again last week. “I’ll make sure to do it very thoroughly.”

I smile as I turn toward the door, trying to ignore the growing agony radiating from my left temple. And trying to ignore all the other reasons the Council of Mayors might call a meeting. Like the whispers about Lilias and the man who’s been serving as her tutor.

Or the whispers about me.