Princess: Light and Shadow Beginnings

By Katrina J Daroff

What if this is not who you were meant to be?

As the princess of Volentia, Cat always knew certain things about who she was and what was expected of her, but when shadow assassins start infiltrating the palace, targeting her, everything about Cat's carefully constructed world comes crumbling down around her. The people she love

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coffee Kat Books
• Release date: Jan 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798989468140

Book preview

It did not smell like a cave. Caves were musty, reeking of cold and rock. This one smelled of cinnamon.

It was still a cave, with rough stone walls and ice-cold floors.

A tall man with long black hair stood at the entrance, peering into the darkness.

You know, it is considered rude to lurk in doorways. A deep voice, soft as velvet, purred in the darkness. "Come in, old friend."

The man stepped inside. The cave morphing into a comfortable room with furs spread across the floor and chairs arranged around a large fireplace. The walls were lined with shelves holding scrolls, clay dishes, and glowing vials. A fire burned low in the hearth and torches hung from the walls, casting long shadows. A silk curtain covered the entry a smaller room, through it, he could see a large bed, made lush with furs and pillows.

A man sat on the bed, his hair a mess of shoulder length black curls, his skin was a snowy white that made his dark eyes glow like coals. He wore a black silk shirt and long black leather breeches.

Erebos.

He looked just as he had all those centuries ago when he was shut away in this prison.

He rose and made his way into the main cavern.

"Hello Cinead, or do you prefer the name those mortals gave you, Fire?"

The torches circling the room dimmed.

Do not address me as a friend. We have not been since you stole my daughters.

Your daughters came to me willingly. Erebos crossed the room to the shelves. His fingers dancing over the glowing vials. As do all of my companions, but surely you cannot still be upset about that, it was over a thousand years ago. He selected a vial that glowed so red it looked like a sunrise captured in glass. I have hardly any of their magic left.

That is Sybilla’s magic? Fire had never seen it before. It was softer than he expected. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together. A pure, white-hot anger burning in his chest. The thought of what Erebos had done to steal his daughter’s magic roiling in his stomach, making him nauseous.

Erebos’ lips curled into a smile that did not reach his eyes. I believe this one was Signe. They look so similar, but there is a distinct difference in the way they feel.

If I could kill you, I would.

But you can’t. Destroy darkness and you destroy the light. Which is why you and the other guardians locked me away in this dismal place. Why did you come? Not that I do not enjoy your company, it gets so lonely here.

A girl stumbled into the village this morning. Her heart stone had been drained of its color. A deep blue vial seemed to throb on the shelf, catching Fire’s eye.

"And you think I had something to do with that? His smile broadened, wicked and sinister, so pleased with himself. Berit, was it? She was quite the magix, until I pulled her essence from her. Unfortunately, the process can leave a magix quite mad."

Fire’s eyes flit to the shelf of glowing vials. Each casting a vibrant light. Each a different color. Some were covered with a thin layer of dust and age, while others looked fresh. None so fresh as the blue vial.

She will recover her magic in a day or two. Her mind on the other hand… Erebos twirled a finger in slow intentional circles. Well, it may always be scarred.

You are a monster.

I am what I was created to be.

Stealing those girls’ magic will not help you regain your power, or your freedom. Fire swept his cloak across the floor, turning back to the entrance where daylight gleamed through the trees. A perfect spring day, unlike the eternal winter inside the cave. So long as you are trapped in here, you will never be able to harm the outside world again. Fire stepped into the sunlight.

Perhaps, but tonight is a Belewe moon and the Volentian queen is expecting a daughter. Erebos leaned against the entrance to the cave, just out of the sun’s reach. "A descendant of light and shadow."

The words gave Fire pause. His fingers brushed the stone at the mouth of the cave. The words that had once been clearly etched into the stone were gone, worn away by centuries of wind and weather. The power was still there. You are speaking of the prophecy.

A girl with the power to unleash Darkness.

A girl with the power to destroy Darkness.

Grinning one last sinister smile, Erebos faded into the dark. We’ll see. He was gone, vanished into the recesses of his prison. Fire turned away from the cave, shaking away the chill Erebos’ words left in his blood.

Even if Erebos was right about the Volentian princess, it would be years before she inherited magic.

There was time to prepare.

Part One

16 years later…

Ryder sat in the sand, trying to read.

Not succeeding.

The sand was too hot. It burned through his trousers and the sunlight against the white pages left spots dancing across his vision.

Prince Ryder simply could not concentrate under these conditions. He preferred the library for his studies; it was being cleaned and aired out for spring. The only reason Ryder came to the beach was his sister, she had been driving him crazy inside, laughing and flitting about.

He glanced down the beach at Cat. She was four years younger than him, just a month away from her sixteenth birthday. Soon there would be a ball for her debut and Cat would be a lady. Somehow that did not seem possible. He still saw her as a child.

Cat was a few meters down the beach, perched on a tall rock that hung over the cove.

Ryder’s stomach dropped. He hated it when she climbed. Certain she would get hurt one day.

What are you doing?

I wanted to feel the wind. Cat stretched her arms, letting the wind pull at her loose auburn hair.

They did not look like siblings. It never struck Ryder so much as it did in that moment. Cat’s messy hair was perfectly straight while Ryder’s hung in loose curls. They both had fair skin, but Cat’s was splashed with freckles. The only thing the two shared was their mother’s lively green eyes.

Well, get down before you hurt yourself. Ryder stood, placing a hand on his hip.

Another difference. Ryder was just over six feet tall. If Cat had been standing before him, he would have towered over her.

And be careful.

No, I don’t think I will do either of those things.

Cat.

You stay down there if you like. I am perfectly happy where I am.

Fine. Ryder threw up his hands in frustration. His book thumped into the sand, wind shuffling the pages and losing his place. As if he should be surprised that a fifteen-year-old girl, let alone his sister, might be too stubborn to listen. But I’m not going to save you when you fall and break your neck.

Ryder stalked away, refusing to watch her flit around her precarious perch. He was a future king, not a glorified nursemaid.

Minutes ticked by with no sound beyond the crash of waves.

Ryder! A panicked wail echoed off the rocks.

Nice try, Cat.

Help! Ry… Her shout cut off.

Ryder paused, his heart thudding to a stop. Pins danced up his forearms. He turned back to the outcropping, expecting to see Cat still atop her perch.

The rock was empty.

Panic constricted in Ryder’s throat. The warm day turning ice cold. His eyes darted over the cove, searching for any sign of his sister. The seconds stretching into eternity. Then he saw her, flailing against the violent water. She cried out again before her head slipped beneath the waves.

Cat!

He did not hesitate. Ryder rushed into the water. When he reached the dark water of the cove, he dove. Swimming as deep as he could before he found her. Grasping his sister’s hand and pulling her toward the surface. She was too heavy, like something in the darkness was pulling her away. His lungs started to burn from the lack of air. Then something snapped, like a wire, and Ryder broke through the glassy surface. The waves had calmed.

He balanced Cat against one arm, as he started the swim to shore. Her wool dress was soaked through, dragging them down. Blood trickled down the side of Cat’s face. There was a bruise forming around the cut. She must have hit her head on the rocks while struggling to stay afloat. She did not stir; Ryder was not certain she was even breathing. He had to get her to shore.

As Ryder swam, he berated himself. He was supposed to keep his sister safe. He was supposed to protect her. He should have made her get down.

An image of his mother flashed across Ryder’s vision every time he blinked. The heartbroken look that was sure to fall across her face when she heard what happened. He forced the image aside.

Finally, they reached the beach. His arms burned as he dropped his sister into the sand.

You, Ryder called to the two maids running toward him. Go find help! The physician… my parents…

What happened? His mother knelt at his side, though Ryder did not know when she had arrived on the beach. He swore she had not been there a moment ago. Not that it surprised him, his mother was always there the moment he was in trouble.

Cat did not move. Even her lungs were still. Strands of wet hair clung to her face.

She fell… into the cove… he panted, unable to catch his breath. She’s not breathing… Is she…

She’ll be just fine. The queen placed a hand on Cat’s chest. Muttering something under her breath.

Cat sputtered. Water pouring from her mouth as she coughed. Gasping for breath.

Shadow! Cat’s voice scraped and scratched.

It’s all right, little dove.

Ryder felt his mouth fall open. He was certain… Cat had not been breathing. Mother had pulled the water from her lungs. Almost like magic.

Mother… what…

She faced him, letting the maid lift Cat out of the sand and lead her away. Ryder, my very brave boy.

Ryder rolled his eyes. There were times when his mother spoke as though she still saw him as a child and not a man of twenty.

I cannot explain what you just saw, but I need you to promise that you will never speak of it to anyone.

But… what was it?

It is difficult to explain. Will you promise?

I won’t… I mean I promise.

Good. She brushed back his soaked hair. You were so brave. I am so proud of you. The queen told Ryder how proud she was of him every day. This time it felt different. Warmer. Now, go get changed before you catch cold.

The morning air was warm and fresh. Cat smiled to herself as she wandered through the courtyard, tilting her head back to let the sun warm her face.

Good morning, Princess.

Good morning, Captain Roderick. Cat looked up at the Captain of the Volentian Royal Guard. He leaned on the gate to the training yard, a sword hanging from his fingers. Roderick glanced over Cat’s dress. You’re not exactly dressed for a lesson.

Cat spread out her skirt. A deep green cotton cut into a simple square collared dress. I wanted to give the men a chance. It did not seem fair to keep embarrassing them.

How magnanimous of you.

Well, I am a princess, after all.

Roderick stepped aside, letting Cat into the training yard.

The clang of swords vibrated through her bones. She selected a training sword from the shelf of weapons. Testing its weight. The sword felt right against her palm. She turned the hilt until she found the balance. It changed, no longer a sword, but becoming a part of her.

Cat had been training since she was ten years old. Her mother had been a warrior and insisted Cat learn to defend herself. For Cat, it felt like more. Fighting gave her control over her body. It made her feel whole, almost powerful. Everywhere else Cat felt out of place, disconnected from herself. With a sword in her hand, she found herself again.

Her gaze turned over the yard. Just beyond the wall, she could see the sea glinting in the morning light. Cat suppressed a shudder, thinking about what happened the day before. Focusing on the guards practicing around her. Who will I be fighting today? Is this the day I finally challenge you, Captain?

I doubt you are ready for that, Princess. Roderick gave her a warm smile. Perhaps our newest recruit. Guy.

A young man with dark hair stepped forward, a large broad sword balanced against his shoulder.

We’ll see how you do against an unfamiliar opponent.

So, this is the famous Princess Catiya. His gaze flicked over Cat in a lingering way that made her grip her sword tighter. The hilt dug into her palm. It’s a pleasure.

It will be, once I beat you.

Cat lowered into a fighting stance, studying the guard with careful eyes, searching for weak points. He angled to the left, maybe compensating for an injury.

Then Guy moved and Cat was spinning away from his attack. He hacked at the air with hard slashes that rattled her bones when she blocked them. One blow nearly breaking her arm. Wisps of hair fell from her braid, clinging to her face. Cat dodged and spun away. She was faster. Soon the huge movements would exhaust him and she would have the chance beat him back.

A smile tugged at Cat’s lips.

She was going to win.

Guy dove forward.

The hem of Cat’s dress snagged under Guy’s foot. His sword slammed into hers, sending her tumbling to the ground. Cat heard her skirt tear.

The training sword slipped from Cat’s grip. She reached for it, fingers digging into the sand and gravel.

Nice try, your highness. Guy pressed a heavy boot against her forearm, pinning her down. The cool metal of his blade rested against her throat.

That’s enough.

Guy stepped away.

Cat tucked her aching arm against her chest, stunned by what happened. It had not been skill that beat her, just brute force.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, finding the long tear in her dress, a hole just above the knee that revealed the riding trousers beneath.

Do you know why you lost that match?

Roderick’s shadow passed over her. She did not have to look up to know he wore a look of disappointment. There would be lines across his forehead and his mouth would be set in a frown.

Because he cheated, Her fists tightened around the ruined cotton. The second fight Cat had lost in as many days. Not that she knew how to describe the living shadow that pulled her into the sea. The memory felt like the vision of a madwoman. All Cat knew for certain was she had lost when she could not afford to. He ignored the rules of engagement!

Perhaps. Roderick knelt beside her. His hand resting on Cat’s shoulder, shaking her gently as he spoke. Cat, you are more skilled than half the men I’ve trained…

Half?

His eyes sharpened.

Cat chewed her lip. Roderick was trying to teach her something.

In a fair competition, with proper rules, I have no doubt you could best any man you faced, but I am not training you to fight in tournaments. I am training you to protect yourself when no one else can.

What…

He lifted a hand, silencing her question before it could burn her tongue.

The battles you will face will never be fair and your enemies will not follow the rules. He stood, holding out a hand to help Cat to her feet.

You’re talking about killing a man.

Yes. Roderick picked up the training sword, pushing the hilt into her hand. Before they can kill you.

Cat let the sword dangle against her fingers.

But today we will practice defending yourself.

Is this because of what happened yesterday? With the shadow?

Anya read the dusty tome for the tenth time, searching for information. Cat insisted she had not fallen into the cove, but that she had been attacked by a living shadow which dragged her under the water.

It sounded like madness.

It was magic. A dark and twisted magic that was rarely even spoken of. Magic, all the same. According to the stories, a shadow magix could send her soul across great distances to spy or, in some cases, to drag someone across the world. 

To carry a body across the shadow divide, it had to be empty, on the verge of death, soul fading away.

Anya shuddered thinking of what her daughter described.

It either meant to assassinate Cat or pull her across the divide. Why would anyone want to harm her daughter?

There was only one person who might benefit from Cat’s death, Anya’s twin brother, Bastian.

When Anya married Kristoff, her brother took her place on the throne. Holding it in wait until her daughter could prove she was capable of taking the Salenian throne.

That made no sense.

Bastian would never harm Anya’s children.

She dropped the book onto the writing desk. The thump echoing off the walls of her study. A memory surfaced; one she had not thought about in decades.

Anya shoved the thought away, shuffling through the drawers until she drew out a stack of letters from Liljanna, her oldest friend. Quickly finding the most recent letter. Anya tore at the crinkling envelope, pulling out a thick piece of parchment. One line pulled at Anya’s attention. Bastian had sent Liljanna and his 16-year-old daughter away from the palace and sequestered himself in the ruined palace on the edge of the Border Lands. 

The memory surfaced again. A jagged mirror on a barren cliff and a siren’s voice calling out from inside of it.

The queen tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, trying to banish the memory. Impossible. The Darkness was nothing more than a story. She had not seen what she thought as a child on that mountain.

The song of the prophecy bubbled to the surface of her mind, twining with the story of the Darkness and her enchanted mirror.

Long ago, Salene was ruled by an immortal queen. She was as beautiful as she was powerful, a descendant of the fire guardian himself. No one knew how Queen Sybilla became the Darkness, the monster parents told their children about. Somehow, she did and she ruled Salene for hundreds of years.

Until one of Sybilla’s descendants rebelled with a small band of heroes and a woman, a daughter of the lord of Volentia, before Volentia had its own king. She sacrificed her life to trap Darkness in an enchanted mirror. She could only be freed by a descendant of both Sybilla and the hero who imprisoned her; the daughter of the prophecy.

Anya, and every queen before her, was a descendant of that Darkness. A line that was unbroken, mother to daughter since the first queen… until Anya chose a different life.

The queen never told Ryder and Cat that story. There was no reason to frighten them, and she had long since outgrown believing in the Darkness.

Anya had studied magic and the true history of Salene. Magic was practical and simple and was nothing like the fairy stories. There were no enchanted mirrors or immortal queens. The prophecy was nothing more than a story.

But Bastian had always believed.

There was only one reason Bastian would try to harm Anya or her family and that was if he had discovered the Darkness and been corrupted by her. If he intended to use Catiya to free the Darkness and secure his place on the throne.

In an instant, she was on her feet, skirts swishing around her. She rushed out of the airy room.

It did not take long to find her husband. Kristoff was where he always seemed to be. At the center of the council room where the king took important meetings. Kristoff hunched over a table studying a stack of decrees. Taxes the lords wanted to levee or new restrictions on what farmers could sell. The stacks of parchment looked dull, spread across the large table. His face was set in a frown. The men around him spoke in whispered tones. By the glazed look the king wore, this was a particularly dull decree that had been written with too many long sentences.

Anya stepped into the council room. Chin raised and shoulders back, not caring what she was interrupting. She walked with the confidence of a queen.

Your majesty, might I have a word? She shot the councilors cold looks before any could object.

The answer was always yes. Kristoff never refused Anya a request. They were partners ruling Volentia, even if the lords refused to acknowledge it.

It took him a moment of stunned confusion to set the document aside. Of course, what is it?

It is a private matter.

Sire, I must object, court tradition demands…

Kristoff held up a hand, silencing the councilor. I need to speak with my queen in private.

Anya waited until the men were gone.

He is right you know; court tradition dictates that the queen must wait outside unless she is summoned. You cannot do this any time you like.

"I do not do this any time I like. Only when it is important."

Kristoff straightened at her warning tone. Years of ruling had aged him from the young man Anya had married, his hair was graying, and cares had drawn lines around his easy smile. What is it?

I think our daughter is in danger. Anya toyed with the sapphire pendant she wore around her neck. The stone was warm, humming against her palm.

Catiya? She’s fine, she is in the training yard with Roderick and a dozen knights. She is most assuredly safe.

I’m afraid my brother means to harm her, to keep her from taking the throne.

A heavy silence fell over Kristoff. You said Catiya would most likely not be able to inherit the throne.

I said Catiya could not inherit the throne unless she inherits my magic.

Which is unlikely.

A cold shiver ran through Anya. It’s rare, for a daughter of mixed blood to inherit magic, but not unheard of, especially if there is any dormant magic in the father’s line. Dread had been forming in her ever since the memory surfaced. In the old stories the Darkness knew things no one could; a person’s dreams, fears, potential. If the Darkness was real, could she and Bastian already know Cat would inherit magic?

The prophecy danced across her mind again.

I cannot be certain until her sixteenth birthday. Anya’s fingers started to tap against her silk skirt. Ticking with nervousness. I don’t have time to wait. I need to return to Salene and speak with the ruling council.

Kristoff jerked away. "No! There’s no reason to go to Salene. Especially if she is in danger. Magic or not, she doesn’t have to be queen!"

Kristoff! Anya’s voice echoed off the marble walls. Listen for a moment.

He did. Pausing and turning to look at Anya.

Anya felt a tremble start in her core. Bastian sent Liljanna and Adalaide away from the palace and… I believe he may have… The words clung to her throat. I believe he was behind the attack yesterday.

She fell.

It could have been shadow magic. I need to find out. Anya’s long black hair slipped into her vision as she shook her head. If Bastian was corrupted by the Darkness, consorting with shadow magix, he could not rule. She loved her people too much to leave them to such torment. If the Darkness and the prophecy could be real, then the stories had to be real too.

Anya had to know.

What preparations need to be made?

The answer stung as it formed in Anya’s throat. "An appropriate marriage will have to be arranged and… if Catiya proves to have magic… she’ll need to go to Salene, to be trained until she is old enough to take the throne."

And if she does not have magic? You were banished from Salene. What if you are risking your life for nothing?

Anya lifted her sapphire pendant, examining the deep blue hue. It was warm and comforting in her fingers. She had worn it since she was sixteen. It was her heart stone, her link to her magic. If Catiya has no magic then she is no threat to Bastian. She can grow up to be whoever she was meant to be. The queen’s fingers tightened around the pendant, lifting the delicate chain over her head. She slipped the necklace into Kristoff’s palm. But if she does have magic and I am unable to return, certain precautions must be taken.

Every muscle in Cat’s body ached. She tucked her hand against her shoulder, fingers finding the bruise forming there. The ache hovering just above her skin told her there would be more bruises peppering her back and arms.

She dropped her sword onto the rack, letting it clatter against the others.

Hello Princess. A second sword clattered into the rack. That looked like a brutal lesson. I’ve never seen you spend so much time on the ground.

Smoothing her stiff movements, Cat turned toward her friend. I would prefer not to discuss it.

Oh, come on, Princess. The boy knocked a fist against Cat’s shoulder. She covered her wince. Evander was her age, with blond hair and broad shoulders. A commoner who had been recruited to the royal guard a year earlier. Cat had trained with him almost every day since. What happened?

Roderick cheated.

The captain never cheats. What really happened? Did you suddenly remember you’re a princess and lose all ability to fight?

Careful Evander, I may be a princess, but I have beaten you more times than you can count. Dirt clung to her hands, she tried swiping them against her ruined skirt, glaring at the smirk etched across Evander’s features. Fine. Captain Roderick has decided that I am to learn how to defend myself… how to get free if I am pinned or harm when I am unarmed.

Evander’s eyes widened. He’s teaching you how to stop an assassin. Or… Evander shook whatever thought had clouded his features away, unkempt hair falling in his eyes. Are there any visiting dignitaries tonight?

Cat swept a hand through her hair, pulling it free of its braid. I don’t believe so.

"Great! Simon and Marcus are coming to the bakery this evening to celebrate Simon’s promotion. Lydia said she would bake a pie. You should come, if you can sneak away from your royal duties.

I’m not supposed to associate with guards, it’s not proper behavior for a princess, but I suppose I could make an exception to beat you at cards.

We’ll save a seat for you then.

Cat stepped back. The giddy butterfly feeling souring her stomach. There was a piece of her that knew that she was supposed to spend her time with the ladies at court and not sneaking out to play cards in the night. The same ladies she could feel whispering about her as they followed her through the corridors. Princess Catiya, who did not know how to be a princess. The girl whose gowns were always dirty and whose hair never stayed in place. The boys did not care about those things. She still felt a distance. As if she did not fit with them either.

Princess Catiya! A musical voice rang out over the training yard, shattering her thoughts. Cat glanced over the gate at the governess who kept Cat’s schedule and was charged with teaching her how to be a proper lady, Lady Priscilla.

Lady Priscilla stood at the center of the path, tapping her foot, arms crossed. Her mouth set in a sour pucker. Princess Catiya, where are you? Your tutor is waiting.

There’s your nanny calling. Sounds like you’re late for a dance lesson, or some fan waving techniques.

Governess. Cat arched an eyebrow. And my tutor has more important things to teach me.

What a shame. You would probably be a better fighter if you could dance. Evander shoved Cat toward the gate. 

She stumbled, tripping on her torn dress. Falling right into Lady Priscilla and her cream-colored dress.

There you are, Lady Priscilla clucked as she pushed Cat off of her. Cat’s filthy hands left a long smudge of dirt across the light bodice. Your tutor is waiting in the library… Just look at you! You’re covered in filth.

She was. The cotton dress, that had been green that morning, was brown with dirt from the training yard. Sweat clung to the back of her neck and hair, which now hung loose and tangled around her face.

I apologize, my lesson went long. She tried to wipe her hands clean on her dress then remembered it would not help. I’m ready now.

Lady Priscilla had been Cat’s governess for less than a month and Cat was still trying her best to befriend her.  It was a difficult task. Nothing Cat did seemed to please the lady. She was a year or two older than Ryder, a proper lady.

Are you? Lady Priscilla’s lips puckered into a frown that reminded Cat of the cook sampling a lemon. It is your responsibility, as a lady, to be punctual…

Then I suppose we had best get moving. Cat rolled her eyes and pushed past the governess. Swinging her arms as she walked, trying to forget about the aches and bruises. She made her way down the garden path toward the kitchens, just to annoy Lady Priscilla. Cat knew without a lecture that Princesses were not meant to use servants’ entrances.

The kitchens buzzed with their usual midmorning activity. Pots steamed on the stove top and spoons clattered. The air was thick with moisture and stifling hot.

Good morning, Princess.

Good morning, Lizetta. Cat paused I heard Simon was promoted. Congratulations, you must be so proud.

Thank you, your highness.

Her stomach gurgled as she continued past a tray of fresh bread.

Princess Catiya! Where are you going? The kitchens rang with Lady Priscilla’s shout.

The clatter of the kitchen dimmed.

Cat spun around, doing her best to ignore the surprised looks surrounding her. Lady Priscilla stood at the center of the kitchen with her arms crossed. Her sharp eyes narrowed to points.

To the library. You said Tutor was waiting for me and it is my responsibility to be punctual.

It is also your responsibility to be clean and presentable as a princess of Volentia! So long as you are under my charge, you will not go traipsing about the palace in tattered rags. Priscilla’s pointed fingers curled around Cat’s bruised arm. She hid a wince, feeling the governess yank her back toward the garden. Dragging Cat toward the royal wing. Come with me.

The line of Cat’s jaw burned. Her skin had been scrubbed until it felt raw. Cat bit her lip, forcing herself not to complain about it or the pins stabbing her scalp. She followed her governess through the corridors toward the library.

If Cat had not been late to meet her tutor before, she certainly was now. He would make her copy lines of history out of some dusty tome for keeping him waiting, and she no longer had the excuse that she had been in another lesson.

Why do I have to wear this? She gestured to the absurd dress. I will only be sitting in a library, not entertaining members of court. Cat pulled at the velvet sleeve of the gown. It was almost summer and the air was warm. Too warm for the heavy material All the layers made her feel trapped, suffocating.

It is your duty, as a young lady of the court to look your best at all times. The severe looking woman glared at Cat. The light color of her own gown gave her skin a wintery quality to match the fiery look in her dark eyes. On your next birthday you will be presented as an eligible lady and, whether you like it or not, you will be expected to look and behave a certain way. You may as well get used to it now. If you ask me, you have been too indulged as it is. The whole kingdom knows it. What kind of husband do you think you will attract if you insist on running about in torn peasant clothing with filth on your face?

Cat had ten governesses in her life. She hated this one the most. Each was determined to make her into a perfect flouncing princess, but no one dared to speak openly about how the king should never have indulged her by letting her train with the knights. It was a tradition in her mother’s country for women to learn to fight, some even served in Salene’s army. Letting Cat fight was how her mother kept that piece of her history alive.

Cat supposed she was lucky to be a princess; her father made and disregarded rules as he pleased and he did not listen to gossiping courtiers.

Lady Priscilla was still speaking about Cat’s future responsibilities and how she would be treated if she were her daughter. Or something like that. Cat had decided it was not important and had stopped listening.

Catiya?

Cat looked up to see her mother coming down the hall. The queen had lines around her eyes and across her forehead. She offered Cat a bright smile.

Mother. She dipped into a wobbly curtsy, knowing the governess was watching.

Weren’t you supposed to be at your lessons an hour ago?

I believe so. She glared at the sour woman who had forced her into miles of uncomfortable stuffy fabric.

The queen’s sharp eyes followed Cat’s gaze. I see, and why are you so dressed up? Her mother’s fingers brushed over the fabric. There’s no need to go to so much trouble for your lessons.

Cat shot another look at the governess.

Well, seeing as you are already late, let me see it. Go on and turn.

She spun, careful not to get twisted in the yards of fabric.

Lovely. The queen tucked her soft fingers under Cat’s chin. The broad smile immediately fading. What is this? She whipped around to face the governess. Her voice as sharp as steel. What is this?

What is what, my Queen?

My daughter’s skin is raw.

Oh, that. Lady Priscilla’s voice was flat and bored. She had so much dirt on her face, I had to scrub it with a hard brush. A small lesson in keeping clean.

"A lesson? And who gave you permission to teach her this lesson?"

You did. You charged me with making your daughter into a proper Volentian lady. My mother, the Countess of Westerly, taught me in the same way.

Then your mother is a fool.

Lady Priscilla flicked her hands over her velvet skirt. Something flashed in her face, her cheeks flushing. With all due respect, your highness, you and I both know a princess, especially a second daughter, is only worth the alliance she secures through marriage. No worthwhile lord will even look at her if you continue to let her behave as she does. My methods may be harsh but…

If I were you, I would not say another word. The queen’s voice was so harsh it forced Cat’s spine straight. Her heart thumped a little too loud as she shrank back.

I beg your pardon.

You are dismissed! I will not have you teaching my daughter such things!

But… I… Lady Priscilla was stammering, searching for the words that seemed to have vanished. My father is the Count of Westerly, you cannot simply dismiss me.

I am the Queen of Volentia! Be glad I am only dismissing you and not having you imprisoned for abusing a member of the royal family. Now get out of my sight!

Cat’s mother whirled around, gripping Cat’s shoulders. Their eyes met. They had the same eyes, Cat and her mother, it was the only trait they shared. Listen to me, little dove. You are worth far more than she says. You will do great things. That will be true no matter who you marry. Do you understand me?

Cat nodded. Her heart sinking.

Good. Do not ever forget it. No matter what. The queen straightened, her features softening. Now, get to your lesson before Lyle sends guards out in search of you.

A door groaned open down the corridor.

My Lady Queen, a maid paused on the threshold. I’ve had your trunk brought up from storage. Do you require any assistance packing?

No, thank you.

Packing?

You’re late for your lesson, Catiya.

Where are you going? Cat’s fingers tightened around her velvet skirt. Hands starting to shake.

I’m leaving for Salene at first light.

Salene? Never in Cat’s life had her mother returned to Salene. She had been exiled. Though Cat was not certain why. Whatever the