Princess Moments

Embracing the Storm

By Elizabeth Jane Shelton

 If she were a praying woman, Princess Sarina would have given thanks to the Highest Father that King Avan of Erunia was the tallest ruler in the Five Kingdoms. Her fiancé’s height made it less obvious that she was avoiding looking him in the eye on their wedding day.

Instead, she fixed her gaze past his chest, admiring the delicate arches supporting the cathedral ceiling, the prismatic stained-glass windows, the marble carvings of the Highest Father’s angels. She’d always loved the beauty of churches, even though her father had done his best to keep her out of them. She wasn’t worthy to stand before the Highest Father, to seek his council in prayer, to worship with his people. It was better not to tempt his wrath by setting foot in a holy place.

Except on her wedding day, of course. Today, it couldn’t be helped.

Sarina’s heart beat faster, and her head felt light, foggy. She took a slow breath to center herself. Surely the Highest Father wouldn’t strike her down at her wedding? King Avan hadn’t done anything to deserve the scandal of having his bride smitten by divine wrath upon saying the words “I do.”

She risked a peek at her almost-husband. He wasn’t looking at her, either. His eyes were trained on the priest, who was wrapping up the current section of liturgy. Sarina forced herself to listen to the priest’s words.

“…not only two individuals, two hearts, two souls, in holy matrimony, but also the interests of two kingdoms. This union is a representation of the lasting peace forged between Erunia and Karpagia.”

Karpagia. Her home. Or at least it had been, until today. Her father, King of Karpagia, had promised her hand in marriage to secure an alliance with Erunia, opening trade and hopefully creating that peace the priest had mentioned.

Sarina swallowed. How long would that peace last when her new husband discovered her secret and sentenced her to death?

It was as ironic as it would be tragic. The Kingdom of Erunia, renowned for its swift execution of anyone with magic, crowning a Gifted woman as its queen.

Clouds fogged her mind again, and she took another deep breath, this time counting the seconds passing as she inhaled and exhaled. Mercifully, the clouds faded, and she suppressed a sigh of relief. Her training was paying off. If she could just survive today, maybe she could buy herself a few weeks, or even months.

Besides, Erunia was supposed to have excellent pastries, and she’d decided her dearest wish was to enjoy a few before her execution.

Sarina heard the priest say her name, and she was jolted back to the present. “Do you, Princess Sarina of Karpagia, take King Avan of Erunia to be your husband; to be his wife, his champion, his confidante, his advisor, his friend, and his lover; to vow to choose him each new day, and to choose him above all others for the rest of your days?”

Those weren’t the familiar Karpagian vows…

Perhaps she should have taken the time to read over the ceremony’s liturgy after all. It had seemed so pointless when the priest had given her a copy, knowing that whatever vows she took now, she would be breaking by her deception. But if she’d read it, maybe she wouldn’t have flinched so obviously at the word “lover.”

Sarina squared her shoulders and locked eyes with King Avan for the first time during the ceremony. She almost wished she hadn’t. His gaze seemed to strip her bare right there on the altar, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Worse, that he empathized with it.

This would be so much harder if he was a good man.

“I do,” she said, hoping her hesitation hadn’t been too noticeable.

King Avan smiled. Storms. That smile was dangerous. Sarina immediately inhaled another slow breath, counting the seconds.

“And do you, King Avan of Erunia, take Princess Sarina of Karpagia to be your wife; to be her husband, her champion, her confidante, her advisor, her friend, and her lover; to vow to choose her each new day, and to choose her above all others, for the rest of your days?”

“I do.”

“And do you both vow your first love to the Highest Father, to place his kingdom and his will first in both your marriage and your governance of the Kingdom of Erunia, and to seek his wisdom in every decision both in your marriage and in your reign?”

At least this part was the same. “We do,” Sarina said together with King Avan. His smile grew wider, and her heart sank. A devout man, as well as a good one.

“Then by the authority granted to me by the Church of the Highest Father and the Kingdom of Erunia, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

It was finished. Her fate was sealed.

***

Hours later, the newly crowned Queen Sarina winced at each new impact of her aching feet on the hard stone floors, wishing—not for the first time—that courtly ladies could take their shoes off at the end of such festivities, as she’d heard the common women did. Instead, she practically jogged down the corridor to keep up with her new husband’s long strides. She was all too ready for this night to be over, but a lingering dread shadowed her thoughts.

Was the night over? Or would King Avan want more from her?

He didn’t try to make conversation as they traversed the corridors. Part of Sarina was grateful, but a larger part ached to fill the silence. She felt ready to burst with all her questions. What did he think of the ceremony, the food, the dancing? Why ally with Karpagia instead of one of the larger kingdoms? What role did the queen fulfill in Erunia?

And—most importantly for right now—what exactly did King Avan expect of her tonight?

Finally, they turned into a foyer, and Sarina stepped onto thick, midnight-blue carpeting. Portraits of royal-looking men and women adorned the walls. Past monarchs? Identical ornately carved wooden doors were set in the center of the left and right walls.

King Avan stopped in the center and turned to face her, smiling again. Would she ever get used to that smile? “These will be your chambers.” He gestured to a set of double doors on the right side of the hallway. “And these are mine.” The left side. “Perhaps one day we won’t need to make such distinctions, but until then, please consider your rooms to be for your exclusive use.”

An audible sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she curtseyed. “I’m grateful for your…thoughtfulness, Your Majesty.”

“Just Avan, please.” He studied her for a moment, then asked, “Will you join me after you wake in the morning? There’s much I’d like to discuss with you. Your maid will know where I am.”

“Of course.” She curtsied again, eyeing the door to her chambers. Almost there…

King Avan—Avan—paused again, his hesitation almost…nervous? Then he walked over, took her hand, and kissed it. “Until tomorrow, then, my lady.”

Sarina’s cheeks warmed, and she heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. She quickly stepped away from Avan and nodded. “Until tomorrow. Goodnight.” Then she fled to her room.

As soon as the doors were closed, Sarina sank to the floor, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out…

“Your Majesty? Is everything okay?”

Sarina’s eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice, and another crack of thunder sounded, closer this time. A young woman in a maid’s uniform stood before Sarina, eyes wide, gloved hands wringing a sash. Sarina took another measured breath, shaking herself from her daze. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Sorry to startle you, it’s been…a long day.”

The maid smiled empathetically. “Of course, Your Majesty. May I help you prepare for bed?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As the maid helped Sarina out of her wedding dress and into a nightgown, Sarina continued her breathing exercises until the edge wore off her emotions and the day’s anxiety faded. She was alive. She’d managed to survive her first day in Erunia.

The claps of thunder grew fewer and weaker until they disappeared altogether, and Sarina sighed with relief. Her father might guess that the thunder was hers, but surely no one in Erunia would make the connection. And her father had left for the Karpagian border as soon as the ceremony was over, right after congratulating the happy couple.

He’d even pulled Sarina aside for a private goodbye.

“Don’t you dare jeopardize the peace treaty by getting yourself killed too soon,” he’d hissed, holding her arm in a steel grip. “If you can’t keep your Gift a secret, I’ll deny I ever knew anything about it, understand? And remember what I taught you. Trust no one.”

“Of course, Father.” Sarina’s smile never left her face.

“Good. Karpagia needs Erunia’s armies. Together, we’ll be strong enough to defend against the rest of the Five Kingdoms.” He released her. “I’m counting on you to do your duty to Karpagia.”

It was a miracle that King Avan had proposed the marriage of alliance, and an even bigger one that Sarina’s father accepted the proposal. It showed how desperate Karpagia was, even though only Sarina knew that. The King of Karpagia always kept his daughter under lock and key, turning away suitors and forbidding her to mingle with others, protecting his beloved daughter from the evils of the world.

In reality, protecting the world from the evils of his daughter’s Gift.

Sarina took a final measured breath as she bade the maid goodnight and crawled into the massive four-poster bed. For the first time in her life, her father was gone. He couldn’t forbid her from speaking with others, couldn’t send a servant to make sure she meditated for hours, couldn’t post a guard outside her door to keep her from sneaking off in the night. Maybe those things kept her safe. But they also kept her confined.

Here, she would know true freedom. Here, she would learn to live.

And then she would die.

***

By the time she left her room the next morning, Sarina was already counting her breaths to stay calm.

When she woke, she decided to stick with the plan she’d devised before her marriage: pick one thing to focus on accomplishing each day. That way, by the time she was killed, her days in Erunia would have had some meaning.

She decided to start small. For her first day, she would track down one of Erunia’s famous pastries and savor it with a cup of tea. Such a task should be trivial, especially for a queen. Surely her maid could find both things before she even left her bedroom, and she could face the rest of the day with a smile.

“I’m sorry, miss, but we don’t have any.” Sarina’s maid, Junia, wrung her gloved hands.

“I thought Erunia was famous for them. There aren’t any here at the palace?”

“You’d be hard pressed to find one anywhere in Erunia, Your Majesty.”

Sarina blinked. “Why? Are they suddenly out of style?”

“No, Your Majesty, those little buns are heaven on earth, they are. They melt in your mouth and make you warm all the way down to your toes.” Junia smiled. “My gran used to make them once a week. But with the grain rations, the bakeries stick to staples. Nobody makes sweets anymore.”

Grain rations? “How long has the kingdom been under rationing?”

“Ever since King Avan was crowned.”

Why did the kingdom need rations? Erunia’s economy was built on its military and its agricultural exports. Was Avan restricting his own peoples’ share of the bounty to make a pretty penny from other nations, or were Erunia’s crops struggling?

If the latter, could that be why Erunia sought an alliance with Karpagia? Karpagia mostly boasted small farms, but perhaps their shipping routes would benefit landlocked Erunia.

Sarina was still puzzling as Junia led her to Avan, and only their destination shook her from her reverie. The small, stone-hewn building was separate from the main castle, though still on its grounds. The beautifully colored glass windows stirred Sarina’s imagination even as they pierced her heart, and one glance at the steepled roof threatened to make her sick.

“Here you are, miss. The king is inside, he said you could go on in. You can find him here most every morning.”

Of course Sarina’s good, devout husband would start every morning in the chapel.

“I don’t want to bother him,” Sarina said quickly. “I can just wait for him out here.”

“It’s no bother, Your Majesty. In fact, he specifically requested your presence for morning prayers.” Junia gestured to the door. “I’ll leave you here. You’re in safe hands.”

Sarina took a deep breath. She’d thought her single goal for the day would be so easy to accomplish. But there was no grain for pastries, and now she was going to test the Highest Father’s patience yet again by entering a holy place for the second time in two days.

If she lived until tomorrow, she’d have to start with an even less ambitious goal. Get out of bed, perhaps.

Sarina swallowed, braced herself, and opened the double doors.

Even with her fear, the chapel’s interior left Sarina breathless with awe. The colored glass stained every mote of light filtering into the room, painting divine brushstrokes on the canvas of the otherwise plain wooden pews and floor. An altar of twelve stacked stones occupied the back wall on a raised dais, surrounded by so many candles Sarina couldn’t begin to count them. Incense spiraled upward from a clay pot at the altar, filling the room with the scent of cloves and pine.

Avan knelt at the altar. He didn’t rise as she entered, and Sarina closed the door as quietly as she could and slipped into the last pew.

What now? She wasn’t going to interrupt his prayers. Should she just sit here and wait?

She recalled the last service she’d attended before her wedding. It had been—what, seven years? Her father hadn’t wanted her to go, but she’d eventually persuaded him that it would look bad for her to miss her mother’s funeral.

What had happened at that service? A lot of crying, of course, though that wouldn’t be appropriate now, even if Sarina felt she could. A priest read the sacred texts, though Sarina didn’t have a copy herself, and she didn’t see one lying around. There’d been singing, but she wouldn’t be caught dead singing in this chapel.

That left prayer, and prayer felt twice as dangerous as just being there. It was one thing to risk catching the Highest Father’s gaze by defiling his holy ground; it was another to speak to him, effectively shouting, “Look at me! An abomination standing in your house! And while you’re at it, bless my marriage, would you?”

No. Sarina couldn’t risk that.

Still, she felt she had to do something. She awkwardly folded her hands and bowed her head, fishing for something to think about. A passage from the sacred texts flitted across her mind, and she repeated it over and over again, focusing on just those words as if it were part of her meditations.

 

All creation groans together, always wanting to be whole

Every human heart is longing, wishing to be one again

Every spirit cries together, lurching toward a common goal

All existence, praying, hoping for deliverance from sin

 

Sarina’s eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Her spirit cried out, groaned, longed to be whole, but the sacred texts never took the Gifted into account, never spoke of those who would be born already condemned, already separated from the Highest Father. No, her heart was a yawning void, her redemption traded for power, her life forfeit before god and king. In this, Karpagia and Erunia were aligned. Only her high birth and her father’s tight grip had let her live this long.

“Sarina?”

Sarina jumped and uttered a shriek of surprise. “Your Majesty! Avan! I’m sorry, I…I didn’t hear you coming.”

Avan’s eyes widened, and he blushed, bowing his head slightly. “I shouldn’t have interrupted you, I apologize. You were evidently deep in prayer.” He kneeled in the pew in front of her, forearms on the backrest. A little undignified for a king, but his posture was of someone who felt completely comfortable in their surroundings.

Unfortunately, it also meant the two of them sat very close.

“No, ah, that is…I was just waiting for you.” Sarina swallowed and tried to get a grip on the lightning crackling in her veins, the rainstorm rushing through her pounding head. “Junia said you wanted me to join you.”

Avan nodded, his smile returning tentatively. “Do you like it here?”

Sarina almost laughed. How could she like a place where she felt so afraid? But the little chapel did have an ethereal beauty, the type that made her want to sit and just be. And so far, she hadn’t been struck down. All in all, if she overlooked what she was… “It’s rather peaceful, with the candles and the light.”

“I think so too.” Avan settled back on his knees, and Sarina held in a sigh of relief. “This chapel is exclusively used by the royal family. Sometimes we host services for special occasions, and this is where we’ll attend on holy days, but for the most part, I come here when I want to be alone. To pray. It’s a special place.” He swallowed. “I hope it can be a special place for you, too. You can come here whenever you want, no invitation required.”

“I…thank you.” A part of her yearned to be welcomed here, to find the solace that Avan knew, to experience faith without fear.

Every moment you spend here would be a lie, whispered a voice in her head. Her father’s voice.

Oh, how she wished to hear a different one.

Avan stood and offered his hand. “There are matters I’d like to discuss with you. Have you eaten?” When Sarina shook her head, he said, “Then we will eat first, and then discuss matters of state. I find they’re easier on a full belly.”

Sarina couldn’t help but laugh as she took his hand. “A wise policy.”

She reminded herself that she still needed to understand why Avan would ration the grain, why he would marry an isolated princess from a small kingdom. And by all accounts he was her enemy—he would kill her the moment he knew that she was Gifted.

But in that moment, he didn’t feel like an enemy. He felt like a friend.

***

Sarina hadn’t realized she was still holding out hope for a pastry until a bowl of porridge was placed before her. It wasn’t bad porridge. But it was no sweet bun.

As soon as they were both finished, Avan made a gesture to a servant, who left and returned with several stacks of ledgers. “My father was a good man, and a brilliant military tactician,” Avan began, “but he had little patience for economics or trade, and he was loath to listen to anyone who suggested that he divert military resources toward other needs.” He slid the top ledger toward her.

It was a mess. The kingdom’s accounts were in shambles, the record keeping was inconsistent at best, and even with all that, it was easy to see that the bottom line was so dismal even a child would know to find it horrifying.

“Surely someone…” Sarina’s eyes widened and she trailed off, appalled at what she was about to say.

Avan raised an eyebrow. “Go on. If you’re going to rule beside me, I need to know what you really think.”

Huh. Perhaps Avan really believed those vows they’d taken only a day before—that she was an advisor, a confidante. She weighed the consequences of honesty, but then again, her stay in Erunia would end in her death either way. Nothing Avan could dream up as punishment for speaking her mind could be worse than that.

In Karpagia, her opinion was neither desired nor tolerated. She knew her father wouldn’t kill her, but he could come up with a hundred other ways to make her life miserable.

Avan did not seem like her father.

“I…that is…” Sarina swallowed. “I was going to say, surely someone in Erunia can do basic math?”

She winced, waiting for Avan’s disapproval, but instead he laughed. A strange warmth blossomed in Sarina’s chest, and she couldn’t keep a smile from creeping onto her face.

“As shocking as it is, the King of Erunia does know basic math,” Avan countered, shaking his head. “But Father wasn’t much interested in my ideas for how to run the kingdom.”

Perhaps they had more in common than Sarina thought. “What was your role here, then? Before your father’s death?”

“To listen. To learn.” He hesitated, then added, “And to do everything I could to prepare so that when I became king, I could fix the problems that were beneath my father’s notice.”

“And how does Karpagia fit into that plan?”

Again, that hesitation. For all his talk of honesty, there was something Avan still wasn’t telling her. “Trade. We could offer Karpagia the most with our military; they were in a position to expand our trade and give us the most favorable deal.”

Sarina believed that was true, but she didn’t believe it was everything. For now, though, she would be patient. “So where do I fit into this? What is my role as queen?”

Avan sat forward. “You’ve watched your father run Karpagia for years. I’m hoping you can help reform our financial strategy and rescue the people from the consequences of my father’s negligence. We need our crops, our farms. The people need food, and we need enough left over to offer to other kingdoms. Right now we can’t even feed ourselves.”

“The grain rations,” Sarina realized.

“Exactly. I needed to slow down our rate of consumption until we’re back in safe territory. And that will be easier said than done.” Avan was quiet, and when Sarina looked up, he was searching her face intently. “Sarina, Erunia has little access to fresh water. It barely rains. It never snows. We’ve been in a drought for the last seven years. The crops are dying in part due to mismanagement, but it’s mostly that nothing will grow in bone-dry ground. We need an economic strategy, yes. But it hasn’t rained in over a year. We also need a miracle.”

A chill ran down Sarina’s spine. A miracle. The kingdom of Erunia needed rain.

She could make it rain. She could make water pour from the sky in the summer, make snow fall softly in the winter, could make every stream and river run to overflowing.

She could do it once, and then she would be killed for it.

Did he know?

Sarina searched Avan’s face. He seemed…earnest. A miracle. “I’m no miracle worker,” Sarina said finally. “You’ll have to look to the Highest Father for that. Perhaps he will send you the miracle you need.”

“I’m counting on that.”

***

Sarina spent a week drowning in ledgers, trying to understand the depth of Erunia’s financial ruin. It was boring, yes, but it was a kind of boring that felt familiar. Safe. Numbers wouldn’t hurt her, couldn’t condemn her. She understood them.

Avan, on the other hand, was proving to be a far more attentive husband than Sarina had feared. He actually wanted to talk to her. Every day. Multiple times a day, even. He wanted to know what she thought of the ledgers, of her chambers, of the palace, of Erunia. He took his meals with her whenever he was free, inviting her back to the chapel again every morning. Once, she pled a headache, which was true. Another time, she claimed fatigue, which was a lie.

When she finally accompanied him again for his morning prayers, she sat in tense silence in the back pew, pretending to pray and hoping today wasn’t the day she would push the Highest Father past his limits. Now that she knew that rain was so uncommon in Erunia, she worked even harder to keep her emotions from seeping into the weather. She couldn’t raise suspicion—or hope, for that matter—with any panicked thundering.

No one will know it’s you, she told herself. You could make it rain every now and again.

But then she remembered the last time she let herself feel enough to summon a rainstorm. She had been twelve, and Father made her read the list of every citizen who drowned in the flooding that followed.

Gifts were like that. Unpredictable. Hard to control.

If there was one thing Sarina was enjoying about her new freedom, though, it was her daily quests.

After failing at her first day’s quest to eat a pastry, Sarina reevaluated her goals. They had to be things she could do herself, not things she asked others to do for her. And eventually, she felt like she was actually making progress. Learn all her maids’ names—done. Make it to the chapel and back without Junia’s help—well, that had taken a couple of tries, but at least Avan found her wandering the halls and brought her back. Finish the ledgers—turns out they weren’t never-ending, even though it felt like it.

Eventually Sarina exhausted the things she wanted to do inside the palace walls, and she began to get antsy. She’d spent her whole life locked in a castle, and she had no desire to trade one prison for another.

Besides, Erunia was her home now, and she was doing a good enough job at hiding her Gift that she might as well learn a bit more about it.

“Do you ever go into town and interact with the people?” Sarina asked Avan at dinner one night.

“Not as often as I’d like, but yes. Sometimes I just visit the market, sometimes I meet with farmers or merchants.” He grinned. “I’d like to tour the kingdom once a year, so I can see how the people are doing outside of the castle town.”

It was a good idea. Most of the time people came to the king, but plenty of the kingdom’s citizens couldn’t make the trek to the palace, or had no reason to do so. And they still had wants and needs and hopes and dreams.

“Will you take me with you next time you go? I’d like to see more of Erunia.”

“Of course. I’d love for you to meet more of the people.” His eyes widened slightly, and something dawned on his face, which he quickly tried to mask. “In fact, I know the perfect place to take you.”

“Where?”

“There’s a family I’d like you to meet just outside the castle town. They’re a good representation of the Erunia I want to build.” He grinned. “But we’ll have to be a little sneaky about it.”

“Why?”

“Because they don’t know I’m the king.”

***

“And you do this how often?” Sarina adjusted the brown woolen skirt Avan had procured for her and triple-checked that her hair was in place under her cap. It wasn’t her usual style, but she found she didn’t mind the simple clothing.

“At least once a month. At first it was just once in a while, to keep me grounded by interacting with the people of Erunia, but then I became friends with the Gardiners, so I kept going more often.” Avan’s smile was somehow even more striking in his woolen jacket and cap.

Sarina lingered on the way the cap mussed Avan’s hair. The absence of his kingly suit made him feel more…real. Like she was just talking with some boy named Avan, someone who could be her friend, instead of her husband and her king.

“Where did you get these clothes, anyway?” Sarina rummaged through the pile in case she was forgetting anything.

“The market, or sometimes from one of the palace staff. Junia found those things for you.”

“How do I look?” Sarina asked, turning so Avan could check her disguise.

Avan blinked, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.

“Avan? Are you okay? Did I mess something up?”

Avan shook his head and cleared his throat. “No. You look great. But you’re missing one thing.” Avan picked up a shawl from the pile on the table and laid it gently on her shoulders.

Sarina froze. If she’d been breathing at all, she would have been counting seconds between breaths, but neither her lungs nor her limbs would cooperate. She stood completely still as Avan tied the shawl in a careful knot at the front. He stood even closer than at their wedding ceremony, though he avoided actually touching her. The proximity made her cheeks redden. Oh, no. No, no, no. Get a grip.

It would be a disaster if she were actually attracted to her husband.

Avan finished the knot and adjusted the shawl once more before stepping back. “There,” he said, swallowing. “Perfect.” Was it Sarina’s imagination, or did he look as flustered as she felt?

A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows of the palace. Sarina jumped and put a hand over her heart, willing it to slow.

Something flashed across Avan’s face so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. What reason would Avan have to feel smug?

“Looks like it’s shaping up to be quite the windy day,” was all he said.

Sarina gave what she hoped was an indifferent shrug. “I’m sure it’ll pass quickly.”

***

Sarina tried not to gape as she followed Avan through the castle town. She rarely had the luxury of being outside, much less on her own. Well, she was with Avan, but to her surprise, there were no guards, no chaperones, no one to make sure the King of Erunia behaved himself.

Sarina lingered on each detail: the smell of fresh herbs wafting from market stalls, the uneven cobblestones, the bright colors and textures of even the regular townspeople’s garments. All of it played out before her like the most beautiful symphony, its notes all the sweeter because she had the freedom to enjoy it.

A little bit, anyway. Regretfully, she reined in her joy and wonder in case another gust of wind put her in jeopardy.

Avan glanced back and slowed down. “Is Karpagia really so different?”

Sarina shrugged. “I didn’t get into town much. This is all new to me.”

Avan’s eyebrows drew together for a moment, but then he offered her his elbow instead. “Then let me guide you.”

A bolt of anxiety shot through Sarina’s body, and she stiffened. This was too close. Too intimate. She’d made her peace with the fact that, if she were normal, she might actually have enjoyed her marriage to Avan. But she was not normal, and he would soon trade his role of her champion, her confidante, and her advisor for those of her judge, her jury, and her executioner.

She took a step back. “I, ah…thank you, but I’ll walk on my own.”

Sarina knew she didn’t imagine the hurt and confusion that flashed across his face, but he merely nodded. “Of course.”

The Gardiners’ farm was close to the town limits. They mostly grew wheat and corn, and when Avan led her through rows of crisp brown leaves and weak stalks, Sarina’s heart ached for the people of Erunia. They did need rain, desperately.

As Avan neared a two-story wooden farmhouse, a man appeared from one of the nearby fields. He shielded his eyes, then grinned. “Avie, is that you?”

“Avie?” Sarina murmured with a sideways glance at Avan.

Avan waved back to the man. “It’s a nickname from when I was younger,” he whispered back before shouting, “Edrick, good to see you!”

The farmhouse door burst open and a woman burst out. “Avie! It’s been too long!” She ran down the steps to meet Avan and Sarina in the front yard.

To Sarina’s surprise, the woman threw her arms around Avan, who laughed and returned the embrace. “Sorry to keep away, Ondie. The business has been busy.”

“And who’s this?” Ondie asked, examining Sarina with curiosity.

Avan grinned and nodded for Sarina to step forward. “This is my wife, Sara.”

“Your wife? You show up after all these weeks and you’re married?” Ondie shook her head at Avan before reaching out and drawing Sarina into a hug as well.

At first Sarina balked, but despite the fact that neither Ondie and Edrick were much older than Avan and herself, Ondie’s gesture was somehow maternal. Sarina found herself returning the hug.

When was the last time someone had embraced her? In Karpagia she was untouchable; in Erunia she was a stranger. And her father had never been one for physical affection.

Or any affection at all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sarina said, her smile genuine. “Avie has told me so much about you.” She met Avan’s gaze as she said his nickname, and he grinned.

“Well, we haven’t heard anything at all about you. Please, come in. I’ll put on the kettle.”

Anxiety bubbled in Sarina’s stomach at the thought of trying to come up with a story, but as she entered the farmhouse, she noticed a little boy sitting on the floor, playing with a wooden duck. He looked up as they entered, then scrambled to his feet. “Avie!”

Avan picked the boy up and spun him around until he was screaming with laughter. “Garren! You’re getting so big. Next time I visit you’ll be all grown up.”

“You better not wait that long, Avie. Ondie’ll make me come find you,” Edrick warned, but he was smiling as well.

“Garren, this is Sara.” Avie placed Garren carefully on the floor and nodded to Sarina. “She’s my wife.”

Garren clung to Avan’s leg shyly. Sarina knelt in front of him and held out her hand. “Hi, Garren. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Garren stared at her hand for a moment before shaking it.

A bolt of electricity shot from Garren’s hand to hers, and she rocked back, landing on her rear. Garren jumped, shaking his hand. “Whoa! What was that?”

All the blood drained from Sarina’s face, and she scrambled to her feet, backing away from Garren. She knew that feeling. She’d felt it dozens of times before in her father’s court—from spies, from prisoners, from unsuspecting individuals who didn’t know why it was forbidden to touch the princess of Karpagia and ended up paying the price.

Garren was Gifted.

Did Garren know? Did his parents?

Avan could not, under any circumstances, find out.

Fortunately, it seemed like Garren was too young to understand the significance of the jolt that only happened the first time two Gifted touched each other. Sarina tried to pass it off with a laugh, hoping the horror she felt wasn’t reflected on her face. “Wow, that was a good shock! Are you all right?”

Garren nodded, and the boy’s father took him to the side to help clean up the toys, glancing at Sarina curiously.

Avan drew closer. “Are you okay? What happened?” he murmured.

Sarina kept the smile pasted on her face, trying to keep her breathing even. “Oh, just a little shock. I must have picked up some static somewhere.” She forced a laugh.

But in the far distance, she heard a clap of thunder.

***

Sarina was quiet for the rest of the visit, only doing the bare minimum to participate in the conversation. Her thoughts swirled with fear bordering on panic. She had to find a way to keep Avan from visiting the Gardiners again. Garren’s Gift would start manifesting soon if it hadn’t already, and if he couldn’t learn to control it quickly, he’d be discovered.

And put to death.

Would Avan do such a thing? That thought preoccupied her on the trek back. She’d seen nothing in Avan that suggested he would be capable of murdering an innocent child, much less delight in it. His nature seemed bent toward protection—with his people’s food supply, with his kingdom’s economy.

Yet all reports corroborated that Erunia was ruthless in its treatment of the Gifted, uncompromising in administering the death penalty to any found with magic. Which was more real: the famed executions, or the gentleness in Avan’s hands as he cared for Garren? For her? Could a man be capable of both unspeakable cruelty and selfless kindness?

“You’ve been quiet since we arrived at the Gardiners’ house. Is something wrong?”

Avan’s voice and expression exuded sincerity, and Sarina found herself hoping the rumors were wrong. If they were—if the King of Erunia would spare a Gifted child—then perhaps she wouldn’t have to live the rest of her life waiting for her own execution.

“Just tired.” It wasn’t untrue. “There’s been a lot to take in today.”

Avan nodded. “Ondie and Edrick loved you, and I think Garren’s a little smitten.”

Sarina couldn’t help but laugh, though the mention of Garren made her stomach twist again. “They’re a wonderful family. I haven’t been around many children in my life, but Garren seems…special.” She worded it carefully, watching for any clues in his response.

“He is quite the singular child.” Avan smiled. “I can’t wait to see what he grows up to be one day.”

Sarina let herself relax infinitesimally. Surely even if the Gifted were still unwelcome in Erunia, Avan would spare Garren’s life?

A man in armor met them at the front door of the palace. “Your Majesties.” He bowed first to Avan, then to Sarina, before turning back to Avan. “My king, I wanted to report that preparations are complete for tomorrow’s executions.”

The smile dropped from Avan’s face, and he glanced at Sarina before nodding to the guard. “Thank you.”

The guard saluted and left.

Sarina’s breath came in shallow gasps, her heartbeat running wild. She couldn’t help the wind that picked up around them, blowing Sarina’s hair into her face and forcing her another couple of steps into the palace. “E-executions?” If she were a praying woman, she would pray to the Highest Father that this wasn’t what it sounded like.

“Of the discovered Gifted.”

Sarina thought she might faint.

Avan crossed his arms. “It’s the one duty my father was happy to pass on to me, when I asked. I’ve overseen the Gifted trials and executions for the last five years.”

Sarina’s head swam, and she’d never done anything so hard in her life as to keep her expression neutral and not pass out. Not only did Avan approve of the executions, he was in charge of them?

She would die by his hand when the time came. How had she let herself hope, even for a second, that it wouldn’t come to that?

“I see.” She nodded. “I think I’ll retire to my room for the night. I don’t feel very well.” She rushed past him.

“Sarina.” There was an undercurrent in Avan’s voice that she didn’t understand, and she halted. “I’d like you to join me tomorrow for the executions.”

Sarina almost laughed. Almost spat in his face. Almost told him that if he wanted her to join the executions, it should be as one of the prisoners. But she said, “I would rather not witness such a thing.”

“I know. It’s an unsavory business.” His face was solemn. “But I think you should see it, just this once. As my queen. If you’d like to avoid them in the future, then you may.”

Unsavory business? The death of her people, and all he could call it was unsavory business? “I disagree,” Sarina said stiffly, clasping her hands behind her back to hide their shaking. She couldn’t watch the Gifted—her people—be murdered. She couldn’t.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” A muscle twitched in Avan’s jaw. Was he frustrated that she didn’t glory in murder the way he did? “But this is not a request. You will attend tomorrow.”

Sarina hesitated. She could refuse again, find out what happened when Avan was truly angry. She could reveal her identity in some sort of heroic bid to stand on principle.

But if she did, what then? She went out in some sort of blaze of glory? Could she do more good for Erunia by living, or by dying?

Eventually, she bobbed a stiff curtsy. “As you wish, my lord.” If he was going to play the part of the commanding king with her, then she would be the subservient queen.

Hurt flashed across his face, but he nodded. “The executions happen before first light. I’ll ask your maid to wake you.”

Sarina nodded, then fled. She barely arrived at her room before sobs were wrenched from her. She sank to the ground and cried like she hadn’t cried since the storm that caused the famed Karpagian floods of her childhood. She told herself she had to get a grip—had to control herself—but it was like throwing water on a forest fire.

There was no future for her here. No hope. Only a looming promise of death. Avan’s kindness to her, his attention to her, only made the grief deeper.

She always told herself otherwise, but oh, she wanted more. She’d hoped for more than a life of lies. She’d hoped that their marriage vows would be true, that one day she could tell Avan her secret and he would understand, that she would live to have children and grandchildren.

But in the end, there was no way to control the coming storm.

***

Junia shook Sarina awake the next morning before dawn. “My lady,” she said softly. “It’s time.”

Sarina moved slowly, wishing that if she just took long enough, the whole thing would be over. She’d barely slept the night before. After crying until thunder shook the skies and lightning crackled over the palace—though not a single drop of rain fell—she’d sat in shell-shocked silence, not moving, barely breathing. Junia found her like that hours later and helped her to bed, concerned but unable to get an explanation from Sarina.

Now Sarina followed Junia down the dark palace hallways. The wall sconces provided meager light as they made their way to a part of the palace Sarina had yet to explore. Junia stopped in front of the door to an outside courtyard and bowed. “Through here, Your Majesty.” She hesitated, then said, “Give him a chance, my lady. He’s a good man.”

“Would a good man murder innocent people?” Sarina hissed before she had a chance to stop herself. Then she swallowed. Anything she said to Junia might end up back to Avan. “Forgive me,” she murmured. “The Gifted are not treated much better in Karpagia, but they are not executed.”

Junia nodded sympathetically. “I understand, my lady.”

How could she? But Sarina merely nodded and pushed through the door.

The courtyard was lit by a dozen or so torches. Across from Sarina a dirt pathway led into the night, and the palace walls enclosed the sides to her left and right. Sarina spotted a covered wagon hitched and waiting near the dirt path. For the bodies?

Avan was already there, waiting near the door. He was dressed in his formal uniform, his crown on his head. His face was tight with worry, but he relaxed slightly when he saw Sarina. “Thank you for coming,” he said, the frustration from the day before gone. “I know this isn’t easy. But you need to know the truth.”

“What truth?”

The door to the left opened, and Avan straightened. A pair of guards led a line of seven prisoners into the courtyard—mostly adult men and women, but Sarina spotted one mother holding a small child. She thought she might be sick.

The line was followed by the guard who had greeted them at the door yesterday. When all seven of the Gifted were lined up in front of Sarina and Avan, the first two guards moved to the wagon, climbing in the front seat.

Sarina frowned. How were the Gifted executed? None of the guards carried guns, nor did Avan. There was no guillotine, no noose.

Avan stepped forward, gesturing for Sarina to join him. She did, though it felt like the steps were in slow motion. When Avan spoke, she felt as though she were hearing the words from a long, long way off.

She tried to focus. She needed to remember these words, seeing as she’d hear them again one day from the other side of the courtyard.

“I am King Avan of Erunia, upholder of the law and justice for our kingdom. You have all been tried and found guilty of the charge of being born with a Gift.”

Most of the line of people looked at the ground, as if accepting their fate. A younger man stared defiantly back at Avan, and an older one, curiously, was smiling. Could she do that? Smile in the face of her death?

“The law in Erunia states that anyone found guilty of the crime of being Gifted shall be put to death,” Avan continued, surveying the line carefully. “This was the law under the reign of my father, and his father, and his father’s father. But it will not be the law under mine.”

What?

Several of the prisoners’ heads shot up. Sarina understood the confusion, the hope, in their eyes. What was Avan saying?

“I have not been your king for long. But I do not believe that the old ways are necessarily better. Being born with magic is not a crime worthy of death. In fact, I don’t believe it is a crime at all. But laws—and people—are slow to change, and it is not safe for you in Erunia yet. Until it is, I have arranged safe passage for you all to the Kingdom of Menthara, where the Gifted are both safe and celebrated. You will each be given a letter of character and sufficient funds to restart your lives there. And one day, when the Gifted are also celebrated in Erunia, I welcome you to return home.”

For a moment, there was complete silence. Then the older man, the smiling one, began to laugh. “I knew the rumors were true,” he crowed. “I knew you were different from your father. Praise the Highest Father!”

The flood gates opened, and several of the prisoners began speaking all at once. Some laughed, some hugged each other, and most were crying.

Sarina watched, scarcely able to believe it, as the prisoners all thanked Avan, and a few thanked Sarina as well. She just nodded, pasting on her royal smile, careful not to let any of them touch her, lest these Gifted find out she was among their number. She watched while Avan helped them into the back of the covered wagon—so it was for the bodies, after all, just living ones—and then conversed quietly with the guard in charge of the “executions.”

Finally, the guard left, and Avan and Sarina were alone in the courtyard. He must have seen the look on her face, must have seen that she was one breath away from falling to pieces, because he said, “Let’s go somewhere private.”

***

Sarina followed Avan to the chapel, and for once, she didn’t hesitate on the doorstep. Avan led her to the very front of the church, gesturing for her to sit on the pew.

He sat next to her. “I imagine you have some questions. Where would you like me to start?”

Sarina shook her head. “I…I don’t even know.” She swallowed. “At the beginning. Wherever that is.”

Avan nodded. “Actually, that would be with Garren.” He took a deep breath. “I became friends with the Gardiners by accident. I was angry with my father for shutting me out, and I began sneaking out of the palace, disguised as a commoner, to spend time with the people. I met Edrick at a market. The wheel on his wagon had broken, and I offered to help him fix it and get it back home. Ondie invited me to stay for dinner, and I fell in love with their life, and with their three-year-old son, Garren.

“I started visiting more often. I’d help Edrick with the fields, play with Garren while Ondie went to the market, or just come for a meal. Having friends was a novel experience for me, and I began to see them as more my family than even my father. Then, one day, I walked in unannounced—as I’d done many times before—and found Garren sitting in the middle of a pile of toys, all floating in the air.”

Sarina sucked in a breath. Three was very young to be manifesting a Gift. Garren’s Gift must be very strong.

And Avan had known about it the whole time.

“The Gardiners were terrified, and they begged me not to tell the guards. They knew what would happen to Garren—and likely to them—if Garren’s Gift was discovered. At first, I was conflicted, but as we were talking Garren crawled onto my lap and gave me this look that said he trusted me completely, and I was done for. Later, I started doing my own research, and I realized there’s nothing in the holy texts to say that the Gifted are despised by the Highest Father. No evidence that they are dangerous, or profane. They’re just different. The despising is all our own doing.

“That was when I asked Father to start managing the executions.” He took Sarina’s hand, and she was so surprised, and so enthralled in his story, that she didn’t pull back. “I swear to you, Sarina, not one Gifted has been executed in this palace in the last five years. I enlisted a few trusted guards, and we began smuggling them to Menthara right under my father’s nose. For a few that have less obvious Gifts, or who knew how to control them, we helped start new lives within Erunia, away from anyone who would know or report them.”

Tears sprung to Sarina’s eyes. “This is what you wanted me to see,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted you to trust me. I wanted you to see that I’m not like my father, and that I wasn’t leading you into some kind of trap.”

Sarina froze. “Trap?”

Avan swallowed and gripped her hand tighter, looking her in the eyes. “Erunia was suffering. People are starving, and I could see our economy was going from bad to worse. I started sending agents in secret to find something—anything—that could help save us. And then I heard about you.” Sarina’s breath caught, and she tried to shy away, but Avan’s grip was too tight. “You asked why I wanted to ally Erunia with Karpagia. I could take or leave that alliance. I knew that you would be able to save Erunia, Sarina. You…and your Gift.”

Your Gift. Avan already knew about her Gift. Not only that, he’d married her for it in the first place. The revelation left Sarina reeling, her heart beating so fast she wouldn’t be surprised if Avan could hear it. “I thought marrying you was a death sentence, and all this time, you knew?”

Avan’s eyes widened, and he looked a little hurt. “You married me believing I would execute you? Why?”

“Because my father asked me to.”

“Your father married you to me believing it was a death sentence?” Avan spoke slowly, anger creeping into his words.

“You offered him something he wanted. I was the price.” Sarina looked away, unable to bear the pain in Avan’s eyes. “But I hoped…I hoped you would be different than I thought. I hoped life here might be more like…well, like life. I didn’t have much of that before.” She forced herself to look back at him. “And you are. And it is. I’ve never felt more free than I have living here. You know, except for last night, when I thought you might kill me.”

Avan winced. “I suppose I didn’t do anything to persuade you otherwise. But I was afraid that if I blurted out on the first night that I knew you were Gifted and hoped your Gift could save the kingdom, that I might spook you.”

Sarina laughed, and she felt something inside her soul loosen as she did so. “It’s better that you didn’t. My father would never have let you marry me if he thought it might lead to exposing my Gift.” She frowned. “But how did you learn what it was?”

“There were rumors that the Karpagian floods weren’t completely…natural. I had my spies follow the trail from there.” He squeezed her hand slightly, and his words were gentle. “Sarina, has anyone taught you to control your Gift?”

“A little. There were all sorts of training exercises to learn to control my emotions so my Gift didn’t get out of hand.”

Avan shook his head. “Your Gift doesn’t need to be tied to your emotions. That’s common in younger Gifted, until they learn control, but you can learn to use your Gift at will, independently of your feelings.”

Sarina gaped. Control her Gift? She could decide when it rained, when it snowed, when the wind gusted or stayed still? “How?” Even that single syllable sounded like pleading.

“I don’t know, exactly. But there are schools for it in Menthara. If you’d like, we can take a trip there and spend a few weeks so you can learn the basics from the masters.” He squeezed her hand again. “But only if you want. I know you’ve spent most of your life hiding your Gift out of necessity. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to use it now. But if you did want to control it…if you were willing to make it rain from time to time…”

The chance to use her Gift for good? To control it, instead of feeling trapped by her emotions? To allow Erunia to see its Gifted Queen and, maybe, change its mind about the Gifted?

“I’d like nothing more,” she said, squeezing Avan’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you. And…I’m sorry. For not believing in you. These past weeks, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, to make a mistake and be sentenced to death. But to know that I’m safe, that you actually want my Gift? It means the world. But…” She bit her lip. “You don’t think the Gifted are rejected by the Highest Father?”

Avan blinked. “No. In fact, if all good things come from him, then I think the Gifts do, as well.” His gaze softened. “Is that why you’re always so uncomfortable here?”

“I always believed the Highest Father would strike me down for daring to step foot in a holy place.” The confession brought more tears to her eyes, which tracked slowly down her face. “But I always wondered…I always hoped…” She wiped her tears, then her nose, with her sleeve. “I always wanted to believe. To belong in a place like this.” She gestured at the colored light, at the altar, at the candles.

“I told you that first morning, this place is for you too. I want you here, and I don’t want you to be afraid. And I think the Highest Father feels the same.”

It was bold of Avan to claim to know the Highest Father’s mind, but strangely, Sarina believed him. Another weight lifted from her—the weight of feeling rejected and disdained by the Highest Father just for existing. Perhaps the Highest Father was less like her own father and more like…well, like Avan.

For the first time, she said a silent prayer to the Highest Father. Please, let me have faith that this life that he’s promising is possible.

“Sarina…” Avan took a deep breath. “I know this has been a rocky start. But I meant all those vows at our wedding—to be your champion, your confidante, your advisor, your friend. Your lover.” He swallowed. “I know some of those things take time. But I do want them, all of them, with you. Do you think…is that something you’d be willing to work toward, together?”

If she truly had a life, a place here…

Avan’s words, his gentle patience with her, the way he was looking at her now, it all gave her a hope that thrilled her soul. A marriage that reflected their vows, as beautiful as it seemed, had felt impossible. But she had a sudden image of walking side by side with Avan, holding hands, ruling the kingdom of Erunia together.

Champions. Confidantes. Advisors. Friends. And even lovers.

Was that image from her own imagination? Or was it from somewhere…someone…else?

Either way, she knew her answer.

“Yes.” Sarina’s face warmed, but she was sure. “I do want those things with you. All of them.”

Avan’s smile was brighter than the candles at the altar, and for the first time, Sarina let it have its full effect on her—warming her from the inside out, lifting her spirits, prompting an answering smile of their own.

Suddenly, a light tapping noise came from the roof. Sarina looked up, confused. Surely that was too much noise for a bird or two?

Avan, however, shot to his feet, pulling Sarina with him. His eyes were wide with wonder. “Come on!” He led her up the aisle, and until the moment he flung open the chapel door, Sarina didn’t understand what was happening.

But as soon as they stepped outside, she gasped in delight as drops of water fell from the sky and splattered on her face. She held out her hands and felt the cool droplets running down her arms.

With a whoop of joy, Avan picked Sarina up and swung her around, and she laughed, breathless, giddy. She could feel the power running through her veins, and instead of being clouded by panic, her mind was clear. She was using her Gift, and she was alive. She was safe.

And for the first time in over a year, it was raining in Erunia.