Samuel kor Harvest, second prince of the Harvest kingdom, stood alone in his bedroom, studying his reflection, something he’d been doing for far too long. The men of the harvest line were blessed with tall physiques and broad shoulders. A figure fit for a general. One his brother appreciated, with his bulging arms and dreams of leading in army.

It wasn’t meant for a man like Samuel, who preferred socializing over a cup of tea in a finely tailored vest over swinging a sword bare-chested. He didn’t hate how he looked. He simply found himself…unsatisfactory. A recent opinion forged in the aftermath of rejection by Cecilia Rosefield.

It was disgraceful, a prince pining over a woman the way he did. If Samuel saw his brother, saints, any man of status, making such a fool of himself, he’d certainly have more than a few things to say about the behavior. But the recognition of fault did not give one the strength to correct it. Truly, it was hard to even acknowledge the folly when his fault felt so right, bittersweet though the feelings were.

He had met Cecilia when they were children. She had stayed at the palace for a period of three years while studying under a famous dancer in the capital. A ruse, of course. Cecilia’s talent in dance could only be described as middling and she had little interest in it. The true purpose of her visit was to get closer to the royal family through Angelica, endearing herself to them as the odd girl’s playmate.

Forming alliances through children was a well-established tradition. Few bonds trumped the innocent trust forged by the young and nurtured into adulthood. While marriage was the preferred result of such pairings, as blood held a special kind of power, simpler relationships could also move the kingdom. Such as the bond between a young princess and her good friend.

The Rosefield’s scheme didn’t go as planned, whoever concocted it underestimating the strange mind of his younger sister. Samuel was sure the girl was simple, but such words couldn’t be applied to royalty. Therefore, whenever people discussed Angelica kor Harvest and her odd behavior, they used misleading terms like “eccentric” or “unique”. Cecilia was a charming creature, but no charm could overcome a soul that spent most its time in its own world. Still, the noblewoman managed to catch the eye of a royal. A prince rather than a princess.

Samuel could only lament his fate that his older sister, Selestia, was engaged to a Rosefield before he became aware of his feelings. The royal family often intermarried with them, but if it was done no more than once a generation. Too many ties to a single family could be taken as a statement. A significant obstacle to the second prince’s romantic ambitions.

Samuel might have still convinced his parents to approve his union with Cecilia. Once Dowager ascended to the throne, Samuel would be stripped of the Harvest name and given a new surname. His children would be of royal blood, but they would not be “royals”. Then, those who looked on with disapproving eyes while muttering about how the Rosefields thought to wed one of their daughters to two kings would be calmed. He was willing to keep their affair discrete for a few years, being in no rush to start a family.

It would also mean leaving the palace. The further he was from the kingdom’s seat of power, the better the nobles would feel. He was sure Dowager also didn’t want him hanging about. A back-up heir wandering the palace after his brother had been crowned invited ill rumors. When the time came, Samuel would take his new name, a bag of gold, and disappear to an estate at the edge of a quaint town. Enjoy a carefree life afforded to those born into means without purpose.

He told his plan to Cecilia after his confession, hurriedly reassuring her when he saw her frown. His plan was foolproof…or so he thought. There was one fault he hadn’t anticipated and that was that Cecilia didn’t want to marry him.

Oh, she didn’t outright say so. He was a prince and one did not offend a royal. She wrapped her intention in societal concerns, self-depreciating remarks, and traditional fears, but Samuel was no idiot. He knew when someone was being kind to spare his feelings. Cecilia always spoke kindly to him. He foolishly thought it was because she cared about him, not his title, but her rejection destroyed the fantasy he’d unknowingly wrapped himself in.

Neither her voice nor her expression gave anything away. And that was the problem. After Samuel poured out his heart, nothing changed. She wasn’t flustered, excited, dismayed, shy, angered, nothing. His love meant nothingto her. Didn’t cause her lips to twitch or a brow to rise. She wore the same face she always wore.

It was then that he realized that the face he found so charming was a mask. Cecilia’s kindness, her words of admiration, her invitations for walks in the evening, and her smiles…all of it was an act.

That should have been enough to end his infatuation, but the heart wasn’t a thing of reason. He didn’t resent her. She hadn’t tried to manipulate him, all her actions acceptable in the context of friendship. She had only made efforts to be pleasant company and he had read too much into it.

To blame her for hiding her heart was to blame a dog for barking. It was something instilled in her from the time she could talk. He was much the same. His passions merely got the best of him in her presence.

Rather than distance himself and move on, he selfishly used her awareness of his position to keep her close, subtly using her family to pressure her into attending the Hall with him. Holding onto some faint hope that if she saw him excel at magic and he had the opportunity to woo her, he might sway her heart. A foolish thought. He’d never shown a talent for casting and if she wasn’t impressed by the palace and the luxuries it afforded, she wouldn’t be impressed by what he could manage in the Gold Dorm.

His efforts only awarded him a heavy heart and a crippled ego. Despite many other noblewomen telling him how handsome he was whenever he graced a ball and Cecilia assuring him her reluctance to marry him had nothing to do with his looks, it had to play some part. Beautiful people were beloved. Lourianne Tome proved that.

Cecilia had warmed up to that pervert quickly. Oh, she didn’t abandon her mask completely, Samuel didn’t think she could, but she approached the woman differently. She’d…flirted with her. Something she’d never done with Samuel.

If he was kind to himself, he’d say she didn’t want to give him false hope to spare his feelings. The truth was she would never entertain the possibility with him but would with Lourianne Tome. A…striking woman, even he had to admit. The evidence was plain. The allure of beauty could even transcend sex. He simply lacked it.

All this time he pursued his crush, it felt like sticking his hand into a murky pond. He had no idea if what he sought was just out of his reach or if it was never there at all, but as long as he didn’t know, he could hope.

Now, with Cecilia’s preferences laid bare, he knew he had no chance. And it left him feeling out of sorts. She had been his goal for so long, Samuel wasn’t sure what to do with it, her, taken from him. It was all a bit disconcerting. While his brother was out waging wars, he was walking the halls of his home with an empty head. As inspiring as a fart and just as useless.

Perhaps his father was right. His unrequited love had kept him a boy for too long, his conduct at the Hall best described as childish and his lack of thought since juvenile.

Perhaps it was time to grow up.

Whatever that meant. The king had mentioned marriage, but he knew first hand that a wife and family weren’t guaranteed to change a man. Samuel had no dreams besides those of passions. No inclinations. No obligations. It was daunting, walking down a road with no signs.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,” he called, never turning away from his pensive reflection.

“Your carriage is ready, Your Highness,” a servant told him. “Your escort is also prepared whenever Your Highness is ready to depart.”

It was amazing how the words, despite being full of deference, carried the weight of an order. His escort was comprised of royal knights. They were the faithful servants of the crowns but to keep them waiting was an insult. One did not insult the strongest men in the kingdom. So, while Samuel determined when they took off, he didn’t dare delay for long.

“Tell them I’ll be right down.”

Samuel sighed once the servant departed. A finger stroked his smooth chin, wondering if a little hair would make him look more distinguished. A moment later, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous and turned away from the mirror. He grabbed his sword, a simple blade as his powerful artifact had been stripped from him, and departed from his rooms. A royal knight waited at his door and silently fell in step behind him.

An unusual precaution but the royal knights always tightened security when a member of the royal family travelled, as it was the best time for an assassin to strike. The man shadowing him would join a contingent of eleven knights to escort him out of the city. After sunset, eight of the knights would turn back while the remaining four ensured he made it to the Grand Hall safely.

The heavy presence as they left the city would dissuade those foolish enough to try to make a bag of gold by assaulting a carriage with the crest of the royal family on the side. The others with the experience to know that most of the knights would return to the palace come day’s end were also experienced enough not to trouble themselves with troublesome matters. Besides that, four royal knights were more than enough to handle what the wilds of Harvest could throw at them.

His carriage, one and a half times larger than the average size, painted red and white with the large head of a golden stag on its side, waited in the main courtyard, surrounded by mounted knights along with three servants that would care for him while on the road. The same scene he always saw when he traveled. But there was an unusual aspect.

Through the open door of the carriage, he saw that someone was already seated on one of its benches. A young woman who sat with her head turned toward the shuttered window, dark hair obscuring her features. She turned as he approached, spearing him with cold hazel eyes, a remarkable feature on an otherwise plain face.

“Good morning, my lady.” While Samuel was confused to find a stranger in his carriage, she couldn’t be anyone ordinary. She also must have an invitation or the knights would have thrown her out. Best to be respectful until he had more details. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

“Oh, I’m no one important enough to be noticed by a prince. These circumstances are just as strange to me as they must be to you.”

Not important enough to be known to him but important enough to commandeer a royal carriage. Samuel hesitated, irritation mounting as he cautiously stood outside his own carriage.

“Good on you, Your Highness, for your caution, though there’s no need for it. Your hounds would have already bitten me to death if I were any threat.” A few of the royal knights shifted hearing the borderline insult and Samuel raised his estimation of the woman’s standing for daring to speak it. “My name is Orphelia Yemen. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Your Highness.”

“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure.” Samuel may not have recognized her but he recognized the Yemen name. On the surface, Lord Yemen was a simple baron of an unimportant territory three days ride north of the capital. A select few knew that he was also his father’s favorite spymaster. Truly, the last person the prince wanted to be in close confines with was anyone related to that snake, but he understood there had to be a good reason for her presence.

Samuel stepped into the carriage, taking a seat on the opposite bench and closing the door behind him. In moments, they were underway. “Will we be dropping you off somewhere?”

“We’re heading for the same destination. It will be my first year as an acolyte at the Hall.”

“Congratulations.” Samuel wondered why no one had told him that a Yemen was attending the Hall. Then he remembered his cousin Sebas and Robert Taking another discrete look at her, he figured she would make the perfect minder. No one would see a threat when looking at her and she had a face that was easy to trust. A pretty smile as well. He was a little afraid for her, being so close to young men of privilege but dismissed the thought quickly. Anyone sent to be the minder for a member of royal blood would be more than capable of defending herself.

Another thought occurred to him. If a minder from the Yemen family was accompanying him, how did his cousin die at the hands of assassins? Also, why was she returning? He supposed Robert was important enough to warrant protection but, at the very least, she should have been replaced. Or perhaps she was the replacement?

As the second prince, few matters of import were brought to his attention, but it was annoying to know that he wasn’t apprised of such important events taking place so close to him.

They sat in silence for a time, Samuel gleaming as much information as possible from discrete glances. It was Orphelia who broke the silence, her words proceeded by a heavy sigh.

“I didn’t take you for a reticent man, Your Highness.”

“Being too familiar with a lady could be taken the wrong way.”

“Certainly being too distant might be taken as an insult.” She waved him off before he could speak any apologies. “I had hoped to do this delicately but your lack of conversational skills forces me to be a bit blunt. I’m sure it’s obvious that there is a reason I’ve usurped a seat on your carriage.”

“I thought so, yes.”

“It’s simple. I am meant to serve as extra protection in these uncertain times while sating my curiosity.”

“Curiosity?”

“About your interactions with Lourianne Tome.”

The prince barely held back a frown at the sound of her name. “May I ask why a Yemen is inquiring into her?”

“I would have thought the reasons obvious. There are a number of good ones, especially with this recent business regarding the summoners.”

Samuel nodded absently. “There’s little I can offer you. Our interactions were brief and…unpleasant. There’s nothing I can tell you about the woman.”

“Life has taught me that people know more than they think. Don’t worry, Your Highness. We will explore your recollections carefully and leisurely. It is quite some time till we reach our destination, after all.”