"But is a giant ball necessary?" I guzzled down drop after drop of the raspberry-flavored liquor I favored, well aware I should have been drinking water instead. And yet the burn of the alcohol numbed my throat to the pain I'd been experiencing all morning. "Why not a quick get-together during the day to swear me in and bless me? Why all the theatrics?"

"Majesty, we discussed this." Sir Sym, to my left, continued to jot down who-knew-what on his parchment, his corn-colored quill quivering with his every scratch. "It's a statement. And it's essential to prove to all that you mean business."

The worn-down, wooden meeting room throne was agonizing. Worse than the throne room's ornate seat. The lack of cushions and simple comforts prompted me to almost miss the glacial seat I lounged on in Club Fields.

I rested the back of my head against the engraved heart, spade, club, and diamond, all interwoven into one symbol—the royal Efuran sigil. But there was no serenity to the symbol, no ease to the tasks it made me responsible for.

I had so many memories of this chamber adjoining the throne room. Hiding under the narrow oak table, sneaking behind the plush red velvet curtains, scribbling our names at the bottom of the shiny silver walls.

Those memories helped me sit up straight, though I wanted to slouch, slink to the polished floors and melt through them to land in the basement.

The people before me—my trusted advisors, my beloved sisters, my dearest allies—couldn't see me weak. I'd never shown my fears in their presence and didn't plan to do so today. Or ever.

"Yes, and my business is to investigate Spade Island and its surroundings! Not sit on a decorated chair wearing a ridiculous outfit as some mage mutters prayers while putting the crown I already wear on my head." I wheezed, overwhelmed by the words spewing out without my control.

"It will not be ridiculous," said Tilda, offense obstructing her otherwise impeccable face. Her tiny tiara of heart-shaped garnets threatened to shimmy off her short-cut curls as she puffed out an unsteady breath. "The outfit I am designing for you is beautiful, actually."

I didn't doubt her. She had tremendous taste in fashion and a keen eye for patterns that complemented one another. In the few days since she'd returned to Acewood, she'd already drawn up new uniforms for all the guards, put together several gorgeous gowns for Lady Ossenna, and offered to re-do my entire wardrobe.

I appreciated her talents, but today I found them to be unimportant.

"It's true," said Astrida, toying with a grape on her plate. "I saw it."

"But is it practical? Will I wear it again, or are the excess materials better kept for more important things? For masks, additional armor, suits?" I slammed my goblet onto the table, wincing at the liquid that spilled over. "I'd prefer riding gear, something for traveling. And I need to travel, to interrogate inhabitants of the island, locate the mermaid cove, their secret home. Could you stitch up something waterproof, instead?"

Tilda's icy eyes widened as she gasped. "Waterproof?"

"Why waterproof?" chimed in Astrida, inspecting her off-white nails while pretending to not drool over Teodric, on the other side of the table from her. "Do you intend to go swimming to find the mermaids yourself?" She flipped her luscious crimson curls and batted her lashes at me.

I set both palms flat on the table to stabilize myself as irritation entered my bloodstream. "You think these underwater creatures would deal with anyone but me? If Luned is hiding down there—and I guarantee she is—she will want to talk to me, not my guards. It's me she wants to destroy, since I'm on the throne she covets."

"Majesty, that seems a bit...reckless." Ysac stood, his scarlet and ebony leathers squeaking as he fidgeted. "You aren't trained in tactics, nor are you fit to handle underwater monsters that might lurk about to protect their kingdom. I am."

"Right." I waved at him to sit back down. "And you'll come with me. I never said I was going alone."

Astrida scoffed. "But what of Otho and Jack? Should we not pursue them, too?" She blinked at Teodric, all manners of longing and despair showing in her expression as she deflated against her chair cushions.

The poor thing had fallen for the foreign prince, but he only thirsted after Ysac's violet eyes and well-sculpted arms.

Lady Ossenna, to my right, finally piped up. "Their locations are impossible to trace. Otho has the means to conceal their movements. But Luned...she'd seek shelter with her mother's kingdom, I agree." She sipped from her steamy tea, its lavender scent soothing my soul. She'd offered me some of her special brew, but I chose liquor instead.

"Exactly," I shot up from my throne, "which is why I need to leave now. I don't want to participate in this ball!"

"Majesty, please." Sir Sym dropped his quill and fixed one of his braids. "The coronation ceremony is crucial to establish power, to gain the devotion of your people. Efurans love parties. Give them what they want, and they'll give you what you want. For example, access to intelligence they might be harboring. Indications of Luned's, Otho's, and Jack's hideouts."

"But that gives them more time to hatch a plot, no?" I gripped the edge of the table, leaning over it, glaring at every person in attendance.

Ysac hovered over his seat, his blond locks hiding his expression. Teodric reached for his lover's hand, a weak smile smearing over his plump lips. Astrida stared at him hungrily, jealousy jarring her usually poised composure.

Tilda was applying a fresh coat of carnelian paint to her lips, and Lady Ossenna and Sir Sym were gazing at each other, likely telepathically communicating about how stubborn their new queen was.

"I see," I said as I collapsed into my chair. "So you all agree, and though I'm the queen, you'll all insist on this?"

A few nodded, a few grumbled.

Teodric cleared his throat, grabbing my attention. "Majesty?"

A strange boy, he was. The opposite of Ysac. Where the former jester was boisterous and confident, embracing his ability to stand out in a crowd, Teodric of Springport was more reserved. He hunched forward when he walked, shielded himself under heavy frock coats, and often peered about as if someone was about to stab him in the back. He'd been outspoken once, but since he'd discovered his own mother once wore the veil of Arden, he'd crawled into a shy shell and refused to reveal his true self.

"Yes, Highness?" I'd decided he was still a prince, though not one of ours. "Do you have something to add?"

"It's a bit of a different conversation, but..." He chewed on his lip, pushed up from his seat, and turned in my direction. "I was wondering how I might go about becoming a permanent citizen of Acewood Kingdom. So that I might be of more use to you. Of better assistance."

The room fell into silence as all glanced his way, including Ysac, who took his hand. "You are a citizen to me," he whispered, his stony, soldier-like demeanor fading.

Teodric shook his head. "But not officially. I want to be a genuine part of this kingdom."

I joined my hands before me, squinting at him. "Don't you aim to return to your kingdom?"

"No," he replied almost at once, flashing the briefest of side-glances at Ysac. "I'm staying here."

I'd never faced such a situation. We'd never had royalty from another kingdom, another world, seek to join our community.

What would Father have done? What was I to do?

"Well..." I drummed my fingertips onto the table, an idea flickering to life in my mind. "I suppose if you married an Acewood inhabitant, that would give you permanent residence."

Astrida squirmed in her chair, all her earlier emotions disappearing as she clapped her hands. "Yes!" She peered at me with renewed life, as if all her dreams had come true. "Marriage! And if he marries a royal, he will maintain his title!"

"Majesty?" Teodric's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, evidently struggling not to mind Astrida's enthusiasm. "Marriage to whom?"

I folded my arms and grinned. "To whoever you wish, Teodric." He peeked at Ysac, then me, and I spread my lips farther apart. "Yes, even Ysac, if you prefer."

"What?" Teodric, Ysac, and Astrida all gaped at me in shock.

"Are you serious?" Astrida's brows knitted together as she huffed, akin to a child throwing a tantrum over not getting enough dessert. "Should he not marry someone with a higher standing at court? A princess?" She growled, the sharp tips of her nails digging into the table. "The next in line to the throne? Me?"

I chuckled as I got to my feet, fanning out the ruffles of my cream petticoat as I distanced myself from the table. "Yes, I am serious, dearest sister. And no, not you. Because in case you haven't noticed, those two," I pointed at Ysac and Teodric, "are crazy about each other. Who am I to stand in their way?"

I wasn't much of a romantic myself, as I never indulged in crushes or flirtation. In my youth, only sons of dukes and distant cousins of counts had any interest in me, and not for my personality; they were after my position. The crown princess, the heir to the Acewood throne.

I learned early on to set a blockade around my heart, and to never let it fissure, never let anyone through. Physically or emotionally. My sisters might have led far from chaste lives, but I was in every way different from them in that aspect.

That didn't mean I didn't believe in love for others. Like Ysac and Teodric, who had no clue that they'd already fallen for one another when they visited me at the Club Fields castle. Such opposites—Ysac so fair and bubbly, Teodric more the tenebrous, solitary type—yet such a solid team. I envied them.

"But we," Teodric wrung his hands, grimacing, "we're...men. The same sex. Is that allowed?"

"It's allowed if I say so." I approached his cowering frame, seeing the anxiety in his expression. "Perhaps in your kingdom your rules don't permit a man to wed another man, but here in Acewood, we respect all sexual orientations. And I, personally, would never forgive myself if I opposed this."

Teodric's eyes lit up and a flush crept up to his temples as he bowed, one fist over his heart. "You're one of a kind, Majesty."

"Don't thank me yet." The rest of my idea flourished in my brain, and I grabbed Ysac's shoulder. "I'll only grant you temporary citizenship for now. This will be a long engagement, if you will. Ysac needs to fulfill his punishment first, before I can authorize the wedding."

Ysac pirouetted towards me, keeping his gaze lowered. "Majesty, I'll do whatever you ask, no matter how brutal."

"I know," I lifted his chin, "but this shouldn't be too troubling. On top of being my personal guard, you'll be my cupbearer. Meaning I'll have you at my side at all times. You were so close to my father, Ysac...and I want to get to know you as he did."

And get to know him through your eyes.

None of us were privy to Father's inner workings like Ysac. The jester had always been his protege, the son he never had. And in some ways, he even looked like Father; the same easy smile, the same dimples, the same flowing hair, though Father's was a chocolate brown.

"That's hardly a punishment," said Ysac with a smirk, as he slid an arm around Teodric's waist. "As long as he and I can still be together."

I admired the simplicity of their feelings, how they wore them on their sleeves, without risk of exposing themselves. Without risk of pain. "Of course you can. I encourage it."

Astrida's grumbles told me I'd have to confront her later about my choice; but I'd stick to it. As a princess, she could access any other man in the kingdom. Teodric was off-limits. It was crucial to my plans that he remain with Ysac. Plus, their love gave us all hope.

Now I had to have hope that my council would allow me to hunt down my half-sister, the former knave, and the backstabbing Ace who sought to strip me of my position. Because I wouldn't sleep well until they dwelled in my dungeons with death sentences looming over their heads.

The stress and exhaustion in the meeting-room was too much. I needed some oxygen from the overwhelming demands of royalty. "If that's all," I grabbed a corner of my too-long skirts, "I dismiss you all so I can think."

No one objected to this decision. Astrida, in her deception at permanently losing her chance at wedding Teodric, departed with a frown. But she promised to pick out the perfect jewelry for me to wear at the ball, and to craft the most decadent crown for my ceremony.

Tilda scurried off to her room, claiming to need to finish my ridiculous outfit.

Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna, troubled at their slow loss of power and the depletion of their forces, requested some time to rest and review their strategy.

"When one Ace is down, it weakens the quartet," Sir Sym said earlier that morning, deep-set wrinkles working their way from the corners of his eyes to his ears. "We're two Aces down, and not at the top of our game."

Ysac claimed he had some orders to go over with the other guards, so before I knew it, I was alone with Teodric.

He issued a polite smile as he tugged his thick collar up, preparing to leave. "Well, I suppose I should—"

"Walk with me, would you?" I offered him my arm. "As the new monarch, I wish to extend my warm welcome to our kingdom; not the crappy, half-assed hello I gave you when we first met."

He hesitated to link his arm with mine, his brows scrunching. "You don't need to entertain me, Majesty. I'm sure I can find plenty to do while Ysac is busy—"

"Nonsense." I seized him and forced him to hobble along beside me as I escaped through the deserted throne room. Familiar patterns danced on the floors below our feet, and our clicking heels echoed as we swished out, arriving at the carpeted corridor. "I do need to entertain you. Your arrival triggered events that allowed us to uncover immense deceit in our ranks. I owe you my thanks."

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