Mya and Her King

By Eliza Grey

Mya has always been a good daughter. So when her parents tell her to marry the prince of a neighboring kingdom, there is only one response: to go and do it. But things in her fiance's kingdom are complicated. Scheming factions are winding around the throne, and there's something wrong with the Queen. The couple is quickly in hot water.
When the grist meets the grindstone, what is Mya really made of?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eliza Grey
• Release date: Apr 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463218631

Book preview

Mya and Her King

By Eliza Grey

Copyright 2020 Eliza Grey

To Mom,

this is my stab at a chick-flick

Jane suits me: do I suit her?

—Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About Eliza Grey

Other books by Eliza Grey

Connect with Eliza Grey

Chapter One

Dad, she asked. Is it true?

It was after dinner—one of the times she got to spend with her dad. It was when he took off his crown, complained about it being heavy, and sat around the fire with his family.

Her dad looked up from his book. It was a treatise on the source of a government’s power. He suspected it was sardonic. What is?

She swallowed. That I’m going to be married off to the prince of Letacorpe?

Well… He took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt. Yes.

She paled. She was only thirteen. The thought of leaving home felt catastrophic.

Don’t be such a baby, her older brother, Mattias, told her. You’ll be able to visit us.

We’ll all miss you very much, her mother said consolingly.

And that was the end of any discussion.

***

They rode horseback through a rocky mountain pass to reach Letacorpe. Tall, spindly pine trees reached up towards the blue-grey sky. They had to stop often because one of the horses would get a rock in a hoof, or would bloat, or a lady-in-waiting would refuse to ride another step. Mya didn’t balk. Her family had toured the kingdom every year, so she was used to riding. Only Mattie was with her now, though. Her father had been busy with the kingdom, and her mother had fallen ill. Mattie was sixteen, and everything his younger sister did he considered juvenile.

As Head city, the capital of Letacorpe, appeared over the next hill, Mattie paused. The rest of the party was ahead of or behind Mya and her brother by a few yards.

Look, he said. I know this is hard, but it’s for the kingdom. He listened to his horse clop-clopping along the road for a minute. Letacorpe’s been extra aggressive lately, and dad wants to secure the peace—and yeah, I’ll miss you. I want you to know that. But I also want you to know that—what you’re doing? It’s important. You’re finally doing your part.

Mya thought of the legal, ethical, and philosophical training she’d wrapped her head around, of the three month long trip they took touring the kingdom every year, of the dance and etiquette tutors, and of all the time she spent addressing petitions from the women of the court. She thought she had been doing her part.

Mattie didn’t look at her. They went down the hill and into the city of Head.

It was a grand, sprawling city. Old houses leaned softly on one another. Brutish architecture rose from the ground in seemingly continual building projects. Children ran barefoot through the streets. Gentlemen walked with an entourage of servants, looking stiff and courtly. Matrons bustled and bought food. The sky watched carelessly.

The palace itself was of old, silvered marble. The columns rose regally, and the windows speckled the stone sides like lace on a wedding dress. Its sturdy bulk loomed in front of Mya, surrounded by a mass of thick, green gardens. She swallowed.

When they arrived at the doors, the party stopped and dismounted. Grooms came out to take their horses. They were led into a long, slightly dark passage. Finally, they stepped into a large room where ladies wore bright dresses and gentlemen wore suave suits. At the far end of the room there was a large throne, covered in jewels and gold bas reliefs. In it sat a man, perhaps thirty, with dark hair and a hooked nose. His green-gold eyes narrowed in on them with hawk-like sharpness.

Mattie stepped forward.

King Gabriel of Letacorpe. Mattie greeted, bowing from the waist.

The man rose, and bowed as well. Crown Prince Mattias of Demar.

Mattie stuck out his hand and they shook. The court breathed a sigh of relief.

Take care of my sister, Mattie said, one brow down in a half-frown. Then they laughed.

Gabriel nodded, and turned to Mya, holding out his hand. Princess Mya, right?

She shook it. Yes.

It’s nice to meet you. I have someone to introduce to you. He turned to a boy in an unassuming navy blue outfit and gestured him over. This is my son, and your fiancé, Crown Prince Louis.

Louis stood by his father and bowed stiffly. He had a round face, a straight nose, and the eyes and hair of his father. Mya held out her hand.

He shook it. Charmed.

Likewise, she replied with similar stiffness.

Come on, now, a ruddy faced gentleman said. You’re going to have to get friendlier than that.

A raucous laugh ran over the crowd.

Mya blushed hotly. Louis frowned and kissed her hand formally.

That’s enough for now, his father said. Why don’t you two go get to know each other in the gardens while Crown Prince Mattias and I talk shop.

Louis’ frown deepened.

I know, his father told him. But you have more important things to be doing right now. Go on, get to know her.

Grudgingly, the two left, followed closely by their entourage.

They walked in silence to the gardens. Louis kicked a stone into the fountain. He sat down on its edge, getting his pants wet. Mutely, Mya sat beside him.

Their entourage circled.

Louis got up, taking her arm. Come on, he said. Let’s go this way.

They hurried into the thick of the gardens, into winding paths and heavy foliage.

Where are we going? Mya asked.

Did we lose them? He said.

Lose who?

Our guards.

She squinted at him suspiciously. Why?

He rolled his eyes. You’ll see. Come on.

When they emerged from the gardens, they were by a stone wall—the silvery marble of the palace—mostly hidden by bulky vines.

Stay here, he told her, and started climbing.

Mya took one glance around the strange environment, and headed up the vines. She was much less afraid of being high up than she was of being alone.

He hissed at her when she reached the top. What are you doing?

She shrugged at him.

Fine. You can come—but stay quiet. Deathly quiet, okay?

She nodded.

He ran a hand through his hair. Hercle. This is so weird.

He climbed down through a window into an old servant’s passage. She followed, stirring up dust with her skirt. He coughed, and led her through the semi-darkness, holding a finger up to his lips.

She nodded, and tried to step quietly.

He finally lifted a musty old curtain, and ducked into a little space between the walls. On the other side of the wall, Mya could hear Mattie’s and Gabriel’s voices.

How long will you stay? It sounded like they were finishing up.

No longer than three weeks. Mattie replied.

Mya stopped herself from gasping. No one had told her it would be such a short time.

Louis cast her a concerned look, then mimed her leaving. She shook her head. He shrugged and once more held his finger to his lips.

So soon? Let us entertain you a little longer.

I have duties in Demar.