who worked so hard. The peace her father and his father before him had worked to bring about after years of war.
Now a single creature threatened all of that, and it made Aerity wish she were a warrior princess who could kill the thing herself. But, alas, she had no talents other than acrobatics, swimming, and simple archery. Nothing useful.
The children screamed and laughed behind her, but she hardly heard them. She stared from the giant window at the crashing waves beyond. At sea were naval ships of all sizes. Water, water everywhere. Aerity couldn’t imagine it any other way.
There were the bays and all their wide creeks stretching out like fingers from a palm to touch everything in sight, feeding into rivers, streams, and lakes. Vast fields of vegetation and crops lined forests that backed up to streams and lakes, both saltwater and fresh. At sea were miles of uninhabited barrier islands and tropical islands farther out, which held coveted spices and vegetation used in valuable trades with other kingdoms—all of it in peril.
When her mother arrived in the High Hall with a maid bearing a tray of cinnamon sweetcakes, Princesses Aerity and Vixie rushed to her side. The children abandoned their race and bombarded the maid.
“Mother, may I visit the stables now?” Vixie begged. “The horses have never gone this long without me.”
“I know, dear,” said the queen. “But your father still doesn’t want you to leave the castle. The horses are being tended.”
While Vixie pouted, Aerity stepped up.
“Mother, may I see Wyneth?” Aerity asked. “Please.”
The queen pressed her lips together. Her eyes dropped.
“She is not well, love. She won’t speak.”
Aerity swallowed hard at the thought of joy-filled Wyneth gone silent.
“I won’t bother her. I swear.” It was killing her to be kept away.
Queen Leighlane thought about it and Aerity’s spirits soared when she finally nodded. “Perhaps seeing you would be best for her. But don’t be offended if she wants you to leave. Don’t press her. Understand?”
“Aye.”
“And be gentle with your aunt Ashley. She’s not herself either.”
Aerity nodded, sad to hear it.
Her mother’s maid stayed to watch over the children while Aerity rushed to her cousin’s chambers. Wyneth’s mother, the oldest of the king’s younger sisters, sat on a cushioned bench in the hall, a handkerchief held loosely in her hand as she stared at the wall.
It hurt to see this strong woman appear lost and broken. Lady Ashley’s usually pristine dress was slightly crumpled. More faded hairs than ever streaked her red locks. Princess Aerity knelt with her hands on her aunt’s knees and lowered her head in respect.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Aunt Ashley.”
Everyone knew she’d loved her future son-in-law. They’d all loved Breckon.
Lady Ashley softly patted Aerity’s shoulder but said nothing. The princess stood silently and went to Wyneth’s room. She knocked twice and pushed the heavy wooden door open. The curtains had been drawn, and no lamps were lit, blanketing the room in darkness. Aerity’s first instinct was to brighten the space, but she didn’t want to shock her cousin’s eyes.
Wyneth lay curled in the middle of the bed, a grievous sight. The princess rarely found reason to cry, but she feared she might now. She climbed onto the bed and curled herself around Wyneth, swallowing back the burn of moisture. Aerity pressed her cheek to the back of her cousin’s head and rested her palm against her arm.
“I’m so sorry.” Aerity’s voice shook.
Her cousin’s words came out garbled and nearly unrecognizable. “It can’t be real, Aer. Tell me it’s not real.”
“Oh, sweet Wyn . . .” The princess’s heart swelled with grief.
An anguished moan rose from Wyneth, and her whole body rattled, making Aerity break out into gooseflesh at the mournful sound. Wyneth fumbled weakly for Aerity’s fingers. The princess reached out and grabbed her