Morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting amber and blue across the throne room. I'd been standing here for almost an hour, listening to Lord Corvain drone on about tariffs on Crimson Territory spices. I felt the weight of the crown—not the one locked away in the treasury, but the invisible one that pressed on my shoulders every day.
"Your Highness, if we could impose a graduated tax structure—"
"The merchants would simply route through Solvenna," I said, keeping my voice level. "We'd lose the revenue entirely and damage our relationship with the Territories. Better to maintain the current rates and negotiate for increased volume."
Lord Corvain's eyebrows lifted a little. He probably wasn't used to me paying attention to the details of trade policy. Six months ago, I wouldn't have. Everything was different back then.
"A wise observation, Your Highness." He inclined his head, and I caught the flash of surprise in his eyes before he masked it. Everyone at court wore masks. I'd learned to read the micro-expressions beneath them, the tiny tells that revealed what people really thought. It was a matter of survival.
"If there's nothing else, Lord Corvain, I have other matters to attend to."
"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you for your time." He bowed and retreated, his grey robes whispering against the marble floor.
I waited until he left before letting myself exhale. The throne room emptied slowly as courtiers and petitioners filed out through the huge oak doors. I nodded to Ser Roland, who stood at attention near the dais with his hand on his sword hilt. Lately, he'd been watching me more closely. I wasn't sure if it was out of concern or suspicion.
"Your Highness." His voice was formal, but there was something in his eyes I couldn't quite read. "The Princess's carriage has been sighted on the Merchant's Road. She'll arrive within the hour."
My half-sister. I'd been getting ready for this moment for weeks, ever since Father said she was coming back from Lysandria. I'd read everything I could find about her: portraits, letters, reports from people who knew her before she left. But reading about someone is different from meeting them in person, seeing them watch you and decide if you're really who you say you are.
"Thank you, Ser Roland. I'll meet her in the courtyard."
"Your father requests your presence in his study first, Your Highness."
Of course he did. I nodded and walked through the palace halls, my boots echoing on stone worn by three centuries of Valoreth kings. Servants moved aside as I passed, bowing and murmuring "Your Highness." Over the past six months, I'd learned all their names. It felt important. They were people, not just part of the scenery.
"Good morning, Elara," I said to one of the chambermaids as I passed. She looked up, startled, then smiled.
"Good morning, Your Highness. Lovely day."
"It is. How is your mother feeling?"
"Much better, Your Highness. The medicine from the palace physician worked wonders. Thank you for arranging it."
I nodded and kept walking. Small kindnesses cost nothing but meant a lot. I'd learned that by paying attention to people, not just seeing them as obstacles or tools. Everyone had a story. Everyone mattered.
Father's study was in the north tower, looking out over the city. I knocked once and went in without waiting for an answer. He stood at the window with his back to me, hands behind him. The gray in his hair looked more obvious in the morning light.
"She's almost here," he said without turning around.
"I know."
"Cassia was always perceptive. Even as a child." He turned to face me, and I saw the weight he carried in the lines around his eyes. "She'll be watching you."
"Everyone watches me, Father."
"Not like she will." He crossed to his desk, poured two glasses of wine despite the early hour, and handed me one. "She's been raised in Lysandria for eleven years. They train their nobles in the art of reading people, of seeing beneath surfaces. She'll notice things others miss."
I took a sip of wine to give myself a moment to think. The vintage was excellent, a Silvaine red, rich and complex. "What would you have me do? I can't avoid her."
"No. But be careful. Be…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Be yourself. You're good at this, better than I expected." He stopped suddenly, and I saw something painful cross his face. "Just be careful."
He'd almost said, better than his real son. We both knew it was true, and we both hated it.
"I will."
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Go. Welcome your sister home."
By the time I arrived, the courtyard was already filling with nobles and courtiers. Everyone wanted to see the Princess return. I stood at the top of the steps, with Father on my right and Queen Elise on his other side. She gave me a tight smile. We'd never been close, but she was always polite.
The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and the last roses from the garden. I could hear the murmur of conversation behind me, the rustle of expensive fabric, the clink of jewelry. The court was a theater, and everyone knew their role.
Then the carriage appeared through the gates.
I could tell right away it was made in Lysandria. It was more elegant than our Valoreth carriages, painted cream and gold with flowing script on the sides. The horses were beautiful, high-stepping greys that moved like dancers. Everything about it showed wealth and refinement.
The carriage stopped at the base of the steps. A footman rushed forward to open the door.
And she stepped out.
I'd seen her portrait. I'd read descriptions. None of it had prepared me for the reality of Princess Cassia Valoreth.
She looked like sunlight in human form. Her honey-blonde hair caught the afternoon light and fell in waves over her shoulders. Her gown was Lysandrian, a deep sapphire blue that made her eyes look like the summer sky, and it was cut lower at the neckline than Valoreth fashion usually allowed. She moved with a dancer's grace, and when she smiled up at the palace, I felt something change inside me.
Then her eyes found mine.
In that moment, the world shrank to just the two of us. Her smile stayed steady, but her gaze grew sharper. It felt like she could see right through me, as if she was reading secrets written inside me. I'd spent six months learning to read people, but now I felt completely exposed.
She climbed the steps with unhurried confidence. Father moved forward to embrace her, and I watched her melt into his arms, genuine joy on her face. Whatever else she was, she loved him. That much was real.
"Father," she said, her voice warm and musical. "I've missed you."
"And I you, daughter." He pulled back, holding her at arm's length. "You've grown into a remarkable woman."
"Lysandria was good to me." She turned to Queen Elise, curtsied with perfect form. "Your Majesty. Thank you for welcoming me home."
"Of course, Princess. Valoreth is your home as much as Lysandria."
Then Cassia turned to me, and I felt her sharp, curious gaze again. She dipped into a curtsy, but there was something playful about it, as if she was acting out courtesy instead of truly feeling it.
"Brother," she said, rising. "It's been a long time."
"Too long." I took her hand and bowed over it. Her skin was warm, and I caught the scent of her perfume, floral and exotic with a hint of spice. "Welcome home, Cassia."
"Daemon." She said my name—the name I wore like an ill-fitting coat—and smiled. But her eyes were still searching, still reading. "You look well. Better than the reports suggested."
There was something in that statement, some hidden meaning I couldn't quite grasp. "Reports?"
"Of your hunting accident. I heard you were gravely injured." Her thumb brushed across my knuckles, a gesture so brief I might have imagined it. "I'm glad to see you've recovered so completely."
The hunting accident. The official story. The lie that covered a darker truth.
"I was fortunate," I said carefully.
"Were you?" Her smile widened slightly, and I had the unsettling feeling that we were having two conversations—the one everyone could hear, and another one entirely, conducted in glances and pauses. "Fortune is a curious thing. Sometimes what seems like tragedy becomes a blessing."
Father cleared his throat. "Come, Cassia. Let's get you settled. You must be exhausted from the journey."
"Actually, I feel quite energized." She finally released my hand, but her gaze lingered. "Travel agrees with me. I think I want to walk in the gardens before dinner, if that's permitted. Perhaps my dear brother would escort me? We have so much to catch up on."
It wasn't really a question. Everyone was watching, waiting to see how the royal siblings would interact. Refusing would be strange, suspicious.
"Of course," I said. "I'd be honored."
"Wonderful." She linked her arm through mine with an easy familiarity, as if we'd done this a thousand times. It felt like we were real siblings who'd grown up together, not near-strangers connected only by blood and circumstance. "Shall we?"
We walked down the steps together, and I was very aware of her beside me: the warmth of her arm, how she matched her stride to mine, the gentle pressure of her fingers on my sleeve. Behind us, I could already hear the court starting to gossip.
"You've changed," she said quietly as we walked along the garden path. The roses were fading, but late-blooming asters made pools of purple and white beside the walkway.
"People change."
"Not usually this much." She looked up at me, and in the patchy shade under the oak trees, her eyes looked darker and more serious. "The brother I remember wouldn't have known that chambermaid's name. He wouldn't have asked about her mother."
My heart skipped a beat. She had been watching me. Even in those first moments, she was paying attention.
"Perhaps you didn't know me as well as you thought."
"Perhaps." She was quiet for a moment, and I could feel her thinking, calculating. "Or perhaps near-death experiences change people. Make them see what matters."
"Is that what you think happened?"
"I don't know what to think yet." She stopped walking and turned to face me fully. We were alone here, screened by hedges from the palace windows. "But I intend to find out."