“All aboard!” Came the cry from a sailor in the crow’s nest above.

  “Then pull the lines and stow the plank!” Captain Roger Stormguard ordered from the ship’s steering wheel. Below, the walkway connecting the ship to the dock disappeared into someone’s inventory.

  I looked over the ledge of the naval ship, The Blue Battalion, and waved a final goodbye to my father. In a rare show, the count had taken leave from his duties to escort me to the docks... and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was the show of tears on Father’s cheek. Frost had started to form on the deck below him, startling passersby.

  I'd gotten up early to meet with Mother and go over her instructions... but she wasn't anywhere to be found. The staff only let me know that she'd stayed over at the palace last night, and there wasn't any mention when she would return.

  After a bit of spiralling with worry - what if Duke Marigold, or one of his followers, had said something to the royals? What if Mother was in the tower? Or worse?

  Then Father had come to collect me, and his lack of freezing everything he touched made me feel better. He explained that there had been a shift in the palace last night... and the queen had fired almost all of the maids in charge of her chambers. Mother was forced to stay late and handle the aftermath...

  If only Mother had also been fired, that would've been nice, but there was no chance the royals would give up a useful pawn. Having Mother in their reach kept Father in line. The remaining maids were probably all in similar situations.

  I gave father one last wave as the boat pushed off. Lish offered me a handkerchief, but I didn't need it.

  The main reason I had to cry was on the ship with me, and there was no way I'd give him the satisfaction.

  “George! George you dolt, why isn’t my seat ready yet?!” The petulant voice was unmistakable. Crown Prince Deryl of Sumbria was hovering near his attendant, a middle-aged elf deserving far more respect, who was in the process of setting up a breakfast dining set in the upper area of the front of the ship.

  The four-legged table fused with the wood of the deck, a light green tablecloth draped over the top, and George was busy pulling out a mug of hot chaga; three platters, each with a different selection of nuts, berries, cheeses, pickles, meats, and bread; and a full glass jug of orange juice.

  George then set up an ornate wooden chair upholstered in plush cushions embroidered with silver thread.

  “Finally.” Deryl said, taking his seat.

  The entire set looked fit to be found in the palace gardens rather than on a ship, but no one said anything or got close to the crown prince. In fact, most of the crew maintained a healthy distance from Deryl at all times.

  It wouldn’t do to catch the royal's attention.

  I had no such luxury.

  “You, girl,” The crown prince called down to at me, frowning, “Come here.”

  I resisted the urge to sigh and did as I was told, ascending the stairs to the upper landing. There was only one chair set at the table, so I simply approached and dipped into a low bow.

  For the trip, I was wearing clothes somewhere between adventuring and riding attire. Calf-high boots with a sturdy grip, thick white tights to cut the ocean breeze, a long-sleeved blue tunic that came down to my thighs, and a sleeveless coat vest. I had on a belt with a small dagger, a pouch, and an enchanted flare wand.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The wand was a gift from my parents after my first dungeon delve. If I was ever in trouble, I could activate the enchanted item and it would send up a bright ball of light into the sky.

  I had to hold the bow for an unnaturally long time before Deryl said, “Alright, stand up. You have the honour to address me.”

  A small voice inside wanted to say I'd rather not, but duty called. “Thank you. How may I be of service, my prince?”

  Deryl considered the question, his eyes roaming over me head to toe and an uncomfortable feeling settled in my gut.

  “I just don’t understand how you were ever considered great.” Deryl said offhand, picking up a pitted cherry from a platter and popping it into his mouth. “Sure you’re pretty to look at, but your level has stagnated and you aren’t very fashionable.”

  My fake smile didn’t flinch. “As you say, my prince.”

  “So I don’t see how I’m supposed to convince Peldeep that they want you. Tell me, are you good at anything?” Deryl asked.

  Whatever I'd been expecting, it wasn't this. Ignoring a rising sense of panic, I replied calmly, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, did you say Peldeep?”

  A smile split his face, “Don’t you know? My mother must have told the Ferns that we’re offering your hand in a political alliance.”

  No, I hadn’t known that. And I'd hazard a guess my parents didn’t know either... unless that was why Mother hadn't come home last night. No... if Father had known then he would have told me, or I would've seen the signs. I sent a prayer to Life to ask the goddess if they would watch over Oak Lily when he got the news.

  “King Rowen has already received the proposal, and we will be reaching an agreement at the Spring Ball.” Deryl cut into my thoughts.

  How the prince would reach any kind of agreement when he couldn't open his mouth without insulting Their Royal Highness Rowen was going to be fun to watch.

  Or, since it was about me, maybe fun wasn't the right word.

  “D-do you know who they’re considering?” I cursed at my own stuttering, knowing it was a show of weakness.

  “Of course I know.” The prince raised a hand and a small sheet of paper appeared in his grip. He flicked his wrist, throwing the paper face up on the table in between us. “Now, tell me what I can use to get them to buy you. Skills, hobbies, I don’t care. Lie, if you think you can pretend long enough to satisfy the deal.”

  The rising blood pressure and panicked thoughts reached an internal uproar, until I saw my proposed marriage partner. Then everything suddenly went very quiet.

  Whatever Deryl said next went unheard, as the portrait captured my attention completely.

  My future husband was gorgeous.

  Piercing bright purple eyes peered out from under strong and striking eyebrows. One of his eyebrows creased deeper then the other - and coming from a kingdom where a sneer was the default facial expression, his unamused expression showed a decided lack of disgust lines around his nose. His face was nothing like an elf’s, chiseled and angular and harsh. Muscles unlike I'd ever seen had me swallowing to combat a suddenly dry throat.

  His white hair reminded me of my father's frost magic, and it was shorter than my hand. He looked like he was once a statue of the quintessential honourable knight somehow come to life. Like if the handsome male lead in a Dragon Feliwyn novel sprang from the pages by magic and was walking around in the real world.

  Before I could stop myself, I was holding the portrait with one shaking hand.

  An angry voice drew me out of my revelry. “I hate repeating myself, Countess.”

  Dragging my eyes away from the portrait so I could think clearer, I answered his earlier question. “Your Highness, if I might say, I am the daughter of Sumbria’s prime minister and the queen’s personal attendant. A prized political pawn for my family connections alone. While my level is pitiful, that only means I am easily controlled. Anyone who marries me will accept a titled [Countess] into their family, and be graced with the chance to elevate their family line and bear a superior elven child.”

  The crown prince nodded, though as my mother had mentioned many times before, no one outside of Sumbria actually cared about being an elf.

  “And, if I may be so bold,” I considered whether to say this last - I hated bringing attention to my real strengths, but a quick glance down at the portrait strengthened my resolve, “should they have hoped for someone more powerful, then playing up my scores at the Glades might trick them into thinking I am worthy. While you know my humble top three best score is on an unimpressive lower floor, they would not.”

  “That will do.” The crown prince snickered, amused at the planned deceit. “Now leave me.”

  I left as fast as I could without being improper, Lishinia right behind.

  As I'm literally writing this... I've decided to add that in to the morning report for Peregrine when she can't find her mom. So the choice is post this chapter now or go back and edit tonight at midnight when I'm next free... Edit it is! Love me!

  I said that, and then promptly went to edit it. I'm functioning.

  do manage to kill off the royal family, Marigold is gonna be a much better ruler. I'm not saying that he's involved with the rebel forces and we might see a new royal family by years end.

  I'm not saying a lot - but also saying everything lol.