Princess Esme waited on the castle steps, and for the first time in ten years, she let herself hope for a mother again. She was twenty-one now, tall and dark-haired, and the whole kingdom loved her. She had been alone since her own mother died. Below her, the red-roofed turrets of Sunspire Castle threw long shadows across the gardens. A black carriage rolled through the arched gate. Inside it sat the woman her father meant to marry. Esme pressed her gloved hands together and smiled. King Cedric came down the steps beside her. Gray streaked his dark beard, and his fur cape dragged on the stone. He set a hand on Esme's shoulder. "Be kind to her," he said. "She lost her husband last year. She knows grief the way we do." "I will, Father," Esme said. "I've wanted this for a long time." The carriage stopped. A footman opened the door. Queen Viviana stepped down in a dark gown, a royal cloak draped over her shoulders. One silver streak ran through her brown hair. She was still pretty, and she knew it. She looked up at the castle first, then at the king, and only last at Esme. Esme hurried down and took the queen's hands. "Welcome home. I hoped we might be friends." Viviana's smile came slow. "Aren't you sweet," she said. Her eyes moved over Esme's face, her curls, her fine blue gown. Something in them cooled. "They told me the princess was lovely. They did not tell me how much." "You're too kind," Esme said. "No," Viviana said softly. "I'm honest." The king laughed and did not hear it. But Esme heard. The queen's grip tightened for one moment, then let go. Inside, the great hall filled with people. Servants lined the walls to greet their new queen. When Esme entered, they bowed and called her name. A cook set down her tray to wave. Two young maids curtsied and beamed at the princess they had known since she was small. Esme smiled back and thanked each one. Viviana watched it all. No one waved for her. No one called her name with warmth. She stood beside the king in her dark cloak while the room turned toward his daughter like flowers toward the sun. That night, Esme found the queen alone on the balcony. "I'm glad you've come," Esme said. "The castle felt empty for a long time." Viviana did not turn. "Your people love you so.” She said quickly and hushed "They loved my mother. I only remind them of her." "How lucky," Viviana said, "to be loved for nothing." Esme's smile faded. She reached out, then stopped. The queen's face was smooth and closed, like a door. "Goodnight, Esme," Viviana said, and walked inside. Esme stayed on the balcony a long while. She had wanted a mother. But this did not feel like a welcoming warmth.

For two weeks, Esme rarely saw her father. New servants filled the halls, strangers who had come with the queen. They moved Esme's lessons to a cold room in the north tower. They locked the tall windows. When Esme asked to see the king, they smiled and said he was busy. She spent her days alone with dusty books. One morning, Esme slipped past a new guard and ran to the great hall. Her father sat by the fire in his fur cape. Viviana stood beside him, her dark cloak sweeping the floor. "Father," Esme said. "Why am I kept in the tower? I never see you." King Cedric looked up, surprised. "Kept? You've been at your studies, child. Viviana said you asked for quiet." "I asked for nothing," Esme said. Viviana laid a hand on the king's arm. Her voice was soft and kind. "The poor girl works so hard, she forgets her own words." She smiled at Esme, but her eyes stayed cold. "Cedric, we spoke of this. She is twenty-one. She should not hide in towers. She should have a husband and a home of her own." Esme's stomach dropped. "A husband?" "A princess cannot stay a girl forever," Viviana said. "There is a match already. A prince, far from here. It is a fine offer." The king rubbed his beard. He looked tired. "She does grow older," he said slowly. "And a good marriage would honor the family." "Father, no." Esme stepped forward. "I don't want to be sent away. I want to stay. I want to choose for myself when I love someone." Viviana's grip on the king tightened, the same way it had tightened on Esme's hands the day she arrived. "Love," she said, almost laughing. "Marriage is not a story, child. It is a duty." Esme turned to her father. She waited for him to defend her, the way he always had. But he would not meet her eyes. "It is settled," the king said. "Viviana knows what is best. You will be betrothed by winter." The words hit Esme like a door slamming shut. She looked from her father's bowed head to the queen's small, pleased smile. She understood then. Viviana had not only shut her in a tower. She had taken the king's ear, and now she would ship Esme far from everyone who loved her. "You'll thank me one day," Viviana said gently. Esme could not speak. She curtsied, because that was all she could do, and left the hall. Back in the cold tower, she pressed her forehead to the locked window. Below, the gardens glowed under the red-roofed turrets. A carriage would come for her, just as one had once brought Viviana. Esme wiped her eyes. If she was to be married off, then she would learn who this stranger prince was. She would not go quietly. She would find a way to meet him first, on her own terms.