“Please, Your Highness.” Taryn was all but outright pleading with me. “You need to wear the red dress. Please.”
I looked at my lady-in-waiting sharply. “What’s wrong, Taryn?”
Her voice barely above a whisper, Taryn said, “The king insisted you wear the red dress and come to dinner formal. In the Great Hall. Otherwise, he’ll have me dismissed immediately, with no pay for the last month.”
I was seeing red, but it wasn’t just the dress. How dare he threaten Taryn like that? Taryn gave me an imploring look, knowing my thoughts. “Don’t say anything to His Majesty,” she begged. “Please, just wear the dress. And we need to hurry and get you into it. We’re running late as it is.”
Sighing, I turned and let her nimble fingers roam over the laces of my current attire, loosening my day dress and letting it slip to the floor in a heap. I silently stepped into the red dress, feeling the satin swish against my skin. Taryn had a matching pair of slippers ready, and then I was out the door, heading toward the Great Hall for what was supposed to be dinner.
Instead, it felt like my doom.
Chapter Two
I KNEW I WAS IN TROUBLE the minute I stepped into the room.
The first indication was when I approached the door to the Great Hall. The footman flung the door open dramatically and announced, “Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Jennica Allayne Kenetria Denyah of Calia.” What a mouthful. My formal title included the names of my two grandmothers and one of our ancestors — Allayne the Clever, who had saved the kingdom of Calia with her quick thinking against the Djinn of Krean. It was customary for royal children to have at least one name honoring an ancient ancestor, with the thought that the qualities that made that ruler so revered would be passed on to the namesake. While I loved hearing the legends surrounding Allayne the Clever, I doubted I would ever be called upon to save the kingdom like she did.
And why introduce me like that, when the only others dining were my parents?
Except it wasn’t just the three of us. There was another man present, who, along with my parents, stood when I entered. That was my second clue.
My father and mother were arrayed in their formal finery as well. In addition, my father, King Hendon of Calia, was positively dripping with the royal jewels. It was a constant source of amusement to the courtiers and the servants (or so Taryn told me) that the king liked to wear more jewelry than his wife, Queen Melandria. My mother only ever wore her simple gold wedding band; she hated fussing with other pieces of jewelry, and barely tolerated wearing her crown for official functions. In contrast, my father adored showing off his wealth and position. His fingers boasted a myriad of rings, and he often wore at least one, but usually several, gaudy adornments around his neck. Tonight I could see a deep red ruby at his throat, ostentatious even for him.
Once I reached the table, my father introduced me to the newcomer. “This is Prince Anders, of the kingdom of Rothschan. Prince Anders, may I present my daughter, Jennica.”
Prince Anders bowed over my hand, placing a delicate kiss on it. “You’re lovelier than I could have imagined, Princess,” he said. “You look beautiful in that dress. Of course, red is my favorite color.” The prince himself was resplendent in a deep red and gray tunic — the colors of Rothschan. Now my father’s insistence on choosing my dinner dress made sense.
Rothschan, to the west, was where my father was from. He didn’t talk much about his life before coming to Calia; all I knew was that his parents had died when he was young and he served for several years as a squire to a renowned knight who was stern, but fair. Shortly after my father was knighted, his master died in battle, and the newly knighted Sir Hendon left Rothschan to find his fortune.
“Thank you,” I stammered, unsure of how I should react. I looked at my parents. My father had a smug look on his face. My mother, however, looked worried.
Sign number three.
“No need for such formality,” my father declared. I gave him a dirty look, considering I was the one who had been forced into formality for this surprise meeting. My father handily ignored me and swept his arm across the table. “Shall we dine?”
We all sat. My father was in his usual spot at the head of the table. My mother was in her usual spot on the king’s left. I, however, had been unseated. Prince Anders was at the king’s right, which was my normal place at the table. It moved me down one seat and put the prince in between me and my father. The seating arrangement ensured that I would have to talk to the prince during the majority of the meal. I could still converse with my parents, but it would be potentially considered rude, since they weren’t directly next to or across from me and I would have to talk over our guest’s head to address them.
Clever, father. Very clever.
The first course appeared before us. I picked at the food on my plate, my appetite gone.
Putting my fork and knife down, I stared straight ahead, my eyes alighting on the swords hanging on the walls. Like the paintings, these also represented the rich history of Calia. Many of the swords had belonged to former kings and queens, with the Sword of the First King in a place of honor by the throne. It was mostly used for ceremonial purposes, although we hadn’t had a knighting or anything like that in a few years.
Prince Anders ate a few bites of his dinner, then sat back and looked at me squarely
