Chapter One
Ara
“Hurry up, now. Your father will be waiting.”
Suppressing a groan, I stuck my head in the doorway. “Almost ready.”
It was the night of yet another dinner—one at which my father hosted several important figures, including King Adon. They occurred every other month or so, and I hated everything about them: the expectations, the shallow conversations, the extravagant, wasteful display of wealth and status.
I tugged at the corset sucking the breath from my chest.
And the dresses. I hated the dresses.
The sound of guests arriving caught my attention and I glanced back at the mirror, wincing at the reflection. With my hair pulled back and pink dusting my eyelids and cheeks, I looked every bit the image my father wished me to be. Soft. Agreeable. Marriageable.
My father had been ready to marry me off for years. As my twenty-sixth birthday came and went, he started to push harder, insisting I settle down, and I consistently refused. I couldn’t imagine settling down here, in this village, with the same people, the same scenery, the same…
Taking a deep breath, I pushed down the rising panic and turned to find my mother standing in the doorway.
“You’re so beautiful, Ara,” she whispered, clasping her hands together.
“So are you, Mother,” I replied as I took her elbow and led us to the staircase. From this angle, we could see each person as they arrived, and every pair of eyes found us in return as we crested the top step, setting my cheeks aflame.
Descending the marble staircase, I found Father first. He was talking in hushed whispers with Marcus, his next in command.
As the general for King Adon of Auryna, the human kingdom, he was constantly engaged in conversation with his men. The king relied heavily on him for border security. After almost twenty years of service, he had become hyper-vigilant, demanding to be kept in the loop about any and all activity, no matter what time of day. Because of this, our estate grounds were constantly patrolled by guards.
Tonight was no exception. In every corner of the room was a guard, trained and standing silently, blending into the background.
Resisting the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation, I scanned the room, looking for Finley just as King Adon entered through the door.
He was lean and tall enough that he constantly looked down his nose at people, his chin high with self-importance. His skin was pale, his dark hair hanging in short curls over light brown eyes. While he was attractive enough to have women falling at his feet, he never entertained them or took a wife—he never entertained anyone outside of this room, actually. He was extremely private, never leaving his castle except for my father’s dinners. Most of his own people had never even laid eyes on him.
As every guest flocked to his side, I turned, locking eyes with Finn. His face lit up, a grin stretching ear to ear. Sidestepping the other guests, he closed the distance between us, running a hand through his coppery hair.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he teased, dropping his gaze down the full length of my body before bringing it up to meet mine.
“It’s nice to see you too, Finn. Although, I saw you just yesterday…” I replied, a little shocked by the way his eyes devoured me.
Finley was my only childhood friend, as our parents had been friends since before we were born. Since we were the same age, we essentially grew up together, and at some level, I knew he had feelings for me, but he also knew that I had no intention of marrying. I craved adventure, passion, something more, and as guilty as it made me to admit it, he was not that. He was safe, which made him a great friend, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel differently—the way I knew he did.
He knew that, had respected it in the past, and yet…
“I could see your face every day and never tire of it,” he whispered, stepping closer to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. My eyebrows furrowed at his boldness and I stepped back, studying his face.
“Well, I should go join my mother,” I said, glancing about the room and backing away. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Feeling his gaze on my back, I joined her and accompanied her to the dining room.
As with every other part of the house, my father had spared no expense when building this room. The chamber was large and open with emerald green walls, the farthest covered in antique mirrors of various sizes and ages, all framed in gold. In the reflection, the warm shimmer of hundreds of lit candles danced and swayed, lining the center of the long, mahogany dining table.
Taking my seat, Finley sat in the one to my left. I gave him a tight smile before greeting the woman to my right.
The meal was elaborate, consisting of several types of meats and vegetables, followed by a lavish menu of desserts and wines. It was all a display, a not-so-subtle brag, and it ground my nerves as it always did.
As dinner finally concluded and the servants cleared the table, I waited for my dismissal, but it never came. Instead, my father stood, clearing his throat.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight. While you have all dined with us before, tonight is a particularly special occasion,” he said, scanning the table to make eye contact with each of his guests. I looked from him to my mother and she gave me a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. When I looked back at my father, his eyes were on me and my mouth went dry.