Page 1 of The Sunbound Princess
Chapter
One
EZABELL
Sunlight sparkled over my father’s body. But it was a little dimmer than usual, the golden rays not quite as brilliant as they poured through the Solarium’s windows. The fat yellow beams crisscrossed the temple and fell over the funeral bier that held King Thessador of the Summer Court.
The healers had done an admirable job preparing him to lie in state. Then again, they had an excellent subject. Thessador Kasreneth was a dazzlingly handsome man.
Had beenhandsome, I mentally amended, biting my lip. I gripped the viewing platform’s railing as various emotions tugged at me.
Guilt.
Resentment.
Guilt because I didn’t feel as sad as everyone expected me to. Resentment because my father hadn’tneededto die. It took a lot to kill an immortal.
My gaze strayed to the death blow concealed under my father’s white ceremonial robes. By the time I’d made the six-day journey from Lum Laras to the Serpent Steppes, he’d been unconscious and beyond help. He’d taken a lance to the chest, and the wood had splintered, shards as thick as a man’s wristshattering his ribs and piercing his organs. His squire had stood to one side of the bed, the crown of the Summer Court in his hands. The sunstone in the center had gleamed like a shining star, its light warming the tent and spilling through the flap to heat the tourney field.
As I stepped more fully into the tent, the sunstone faltered. Then it disappeared. Shadows fell over the bed and my father’s body. The squire looked at me with wide eyes. Outside the tent, shouts of alarm echoed across the camp. Through trembling lips, the squire whispered a word as ancient as the sunstone itself.
“Dokimasi.”
Footsteps jerked me from the past. Turning from the railing, I faced the Solarium’s tall, golden doors just as Corvus Orakleides stepped through them.
As always, my stomach fluttered at the sight of my betrothed’s lean body and confident stride. His tight-fitting, sleeveless jacket was the same golden shade as the Solarium’s doors, the fabric embroidered with tiny suns that matched the sigils on his neck. More sun-shaped sigils spread down his chest and arms, the rays wrapping lovingly around muscle he honed in the training yard.
“Ezabell,” he murmured, his boots clicking on the marble. The hem of his jacket brushed his thighs. A leather belt rode low on his hips. When he reached me, he grasped my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. He wore his long, light brown hair pulled back from his face, revealing noble features touched with arrogance that never failed to make my heart pound. Eyes the color of the sky above Lum Laras gleamed with raw appreciation as he stepped back and swept his gaze down my body.
“You’re exquisite even in travel clothes,” he said, his voice husky. “It should be a crime to look as good as you do.”
We were alone, but I cast a quick look around the Solarium anyway. “I’m not sure this is the right time to worry about my looks.”
Corvus glanced at my father’s bier, and contrition touched his eyes. “Of course not, and I apologize for being insensitive.” Corvus brushed his knuckles over my jaw like he couldn’t help himself. “But Thessador would not have wished for you to mourn. He despised sorrow. You know that.”
A sigh built in my chest. “He didn’t despise sorrow,” I said, turning back to the bier. “He despised anything that wasn’t a tournament.”
Corvus placed his hand on top of mine on the railing. He didn’t argue.
Because I was right. Memories of feasts and tournaments paraded through my head, the gasps and roars of crowds like the ebb and flow of the ocean crashing against the shore. My father never met a joust he didn’t love, and he’d spent most of his time traveling the kingdom with a lance tucked under his arm. His travels hadn’t afforded him many opportunities to visit Lum Laras.
I must show off the sunstone,he told me on the rare occasions he returned home.The people love to see the source of Summer’s power.
Now, it was gone—and I had to find it.
Right on cue, restlessness stirred in my chest. Like an anchor embedded behind my sternum, ittugged, the sensation so intense I curled my fingers around the railing to keep myself from swaying backward. Gripping the polished wood hard, I clenched my jaw against the urge to claw the feeling from my chest.
But such a thing was impossible. The sensation, which had arrived the moment my father died, had only grown stronger in the week since. And it wouldn’t abate until I found the sunstone.
Or failed to find it. Those were my options. Like it or not, I was stuck with the Dokimasi’s magic. If I failed to locate the sunstone, the quest would find another heir.
My father rested on the bier, his face untouched by death. Hair the same black shade as my own streamed over his shoulders. The suggestion of a smile touched his lips. Rings winked on the fingers the healer had laced together over his stomach. The Summer Crown with its missing sunstone nestled on his head, which rested on a golden cushion. If not for the golden coins on his eyes, he might have been sleeping.
“He was supposed to live forever,” I said.
Corvus’s spicy scent teased my nose as he put an arm around my shoulders. “Our immortality is a gift, my love, not a guarantee.” Corvus was quiet for a moment as we stared at the bier. “Thessador died doing what he loved. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose,” I said, and I swallowed the words that tried to follow. Words that had floated in my mind every time my father rode from Lum Laras with most of the court on his heels.Why can’t he love me just a little bit, too?
