Rosie frowned. “I don’t feel ready for all of that attention.” She set the book aside and sat up straighter. “That’s not why you’re upset.”
“No, it’s not.”
They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Can I sleep in here?” Stella whispered.
Rosie nodded, her brow drawn in worry, but she said nothing. That was the best thing about her sister—the way she understood when silence was best. Stella unbuttoned her dress. It slid down her body, puddling on the floor. She smoothed her chemise and unpinned her hair, slipping into the bed beside Rosie.
Usually it was Rosie sneaking into her bed when she had a bad dream or was worried about something, but her sister didn’t seem concerned by the shift in roles. She just smoothed Stella’s wild hair.
“Let me tell you a story,” her sister whispered.
Rosie opened the book, and, as she had so many times before, Stella let the tale carry her away from her worries for a while.
2
TEDDY
Teddy Savero was a creature of habit. He loathed being in Olney. The weather was unbearably humid, the people were too chatty, and it was impossible to find a private place to train.
Sand kicked out behind him as he ran, sticking to the backs of his calves as he sprinted down the beach.
As the future king of Argaria, Teddy needed to control his public image, and he didn’t want any Olney hunters getting a glimpse of his fighting technique before he’d eyed them up first. That meant he was stuck running along the godsforsaken beach.
Being the future king was as much about cultivating the right image as it was about living up to it in every aspect of life. The last thing he needed was to look weak in an allied kingdom. He was the son of two warriors, and fierce as anyone in Argaria, but it only took one slip-up on foreign soil for tongues to wag.
The hunters were the foot soldiers of both the Argarian and Olney armies, not only trained to be expertly good at tracking stealthily, fighting, and spying but also equipped with exceptional observational skills. Their training focused heavily on finding anopponent’s weakness and Teddy didn’t want his to be fodder for foreign gossip.
His mother, Jessamin, was once the leader of the army in the Queendom of Novum and had brought those skills to her role as Queen of Argaria, helping to teach their hunters new fighting styles and battle techniques. His father, Xander, was a warrior who’d saved Argaria not just from the trickster god, Cato, but also from the invasion of his vicious cousin, Vincent. Teddy had a lot to live up to, and the voice in his mind never seemed to run out of ways that he could improve with just a few more hours of practice or a few more turns in the ring.
A run on the beach had seemed the next best thing to burn off the restless energy in his body. But now he was panting from the humidity, a brutal sand coating tearing up his ankles, and the idea seemed ridiculous.
Teddy paused, looking out at the Adiran Sea, sweat dripping down his back as he tried to catch his breath. He drew in deep gulps of salt air, trying to match the soft rhythm to the bright cerulean waves crashing on the shore. The longer he held still, the more he wanted to run. But no matter how far he went, he would not outrun the hard conversation he needed to have with his parents.
Teddy had planned a hundred different futures, but each year he found himself caught in the same cycle of kingdom visits and elaborate balls. Escape was an unsolvable riddle that teased him with its simplicity. He could walk away, and yet, he wouldn’t. Because staying was right, and he could not bear to be weak enough to leave. What would people think of a prince who ran from his problems? They could never learn to trust a king who lacked the courage to make hard, unselfish choices.
Soft footsteps drew closer, but Teddy didn’t bother turning. He knew who it was by the crackle in the air. It was the subtle warning that preceded the Storm King.
“Thought I might find you here. I spent quite a few mornings down here myself,” Xander said, glancing up at a cottage that sat on the cliffs high above the sea.
“When you were married toher.”
It was childish not to say her name. Despite the close relationship between their families, Teddy had never warmed to the woman who’d broken his father’s heart. Logically he knew that his father had made mistakes, but over the years the world had run away with their fairy tale, leaving Xander as some interloper keeping fated lovers apart. The simplified version of the story was one love story instead of two.
“You can say her name. She won’t appear…sadly.”
Teddy rolled his eyes. “How do you still hold her in such high esteem?”
“Because I don’t care about the stories or what other people think,” Xander said. “I was there and I know what happened and Cece will always have my respect and affection. She is my dearest friend, second only to your mother.” His father tugged up his tunic, showing the scar over his heart. “You think I’d so easily forget the person who saved my life and then helped me save my kingdom—and at great personal cost?”
Teddy shook his head and looked away. He held his tongue.
In his weaker moments, Teddy wondered if the way his father spoke so freely about Cecilia Reznik was the reason Isla had left him. There was nothing wrong with holding an old love in high esteem, but Xander spoke of her and wrote to her often.
Isla was a confident woman—a consort needed to be. But everyone had their limits.
Teddy was close with both of his parents’ consorts. While the king and queen were often focused on his siblings, who were eternally getting into trouble, Maren and Isla had both made a point to pay him as much attention for behaving himself as his siblings received for not doing the same.
