Identity (The Kingdom Chronicles Book 3) Page 3

  “I love the nickname,” I said. “I hope you always call me that. But I want to remember you saying my name before you leave.”

  “Very well, Anwen.” He kissed the top of my head and released me, obviously feeling he’d been affectionate enough to satisfy his brotherly duty. “I’ll return to Lyceria within a fortnight. In the meantime, keep your chin up, Pillbug. Anwen.” He gave me one of his rare but sweet smiles before cupping my chin again and leaving. I watched his retreating form, my secret fighting to escape but the enchantment holding it back too powerful a barrier.

  And then he was gone.

  I finally released my tears as I walked slowly back to Her Highness’s quarters. She didn’t seem to notice or care that I was crying as I helped her get ready for bed before returning to the tiny room attached to the princess’s guest suite.

  I stood in the doorway and slowly looked around. I’d stayed in this room multiple times over the years whenever accompanying the princess on her obligatory visits to Draceria. Despite always hating the room, I suddenly didn’t want to let it go, considering it was yet another part of Anwen I was about to lose. I said goodbye to it and everything it contained, each farewell stealing another small portion of myself I didn’t want to give up.

  I knelt beside my bed and reached beneath it. There I stored my entomology things—my books on insects, each scrimped and saved up for with my minimal wages, treasured and reread dozens of times until I had nearly every word and fact memorized; my glass cases of specimens I'd been collecting my entire life, all carefully categorized and organized; and my notebooks of drawings and observations, chronicled from my childhood until now.

  I reverently stroked my books and glass cases before tightening my jaw. I refused to relinquish myself completely. I’d keep my treasures close to me, hidden away so they wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much of Anwen did.

  I carefully packed my entomology things at the bottom of my trunk. As I clicked the lid shut, the first sense of calm managed to penetrate my frazzled nerves. I wouldn't be lost completely, no matter how much I feared I gradually would be as the princess’s plot unfolded.

  There were some things even the contract ring couldn’t take from me.

  Chapter 3

  The soft rosy light of dawn bathed me in warmth as I sat on Princess Lavena’s balcony, hugging my knees to my chest as I watched the sun rise. With the way their golden light erased all evidence of night, for me sunrises had always represented promise…until today, for this sunrise represented not a wondrous beginning but an ending, the day Anwen would officially begin to disappear as she was swallowed up by the princess.

  I extended my hand and glared at the ring, my ball and chain. Why did I have to bear such an uncanny resemblance to Princess Lavena? If only the princess had never discovered me all those years ago; then I wouldn’t be in this mess now.

  I still remembered the day I’d met Princess Lavena. I’d lived in a tiny village nestled amongst rolling green hills in our mountainous kingdom, where my days had been spent outdoors in the sun, surrounded by geese, nature, and of course my favorite insects…until the chance encounter that had changed everything, one the princess had always deemed destiny, but which I considered rotten luck.

  During a royal tour five years ago, the princess had ridden through our village on her majestic white horse, nodding to her subjects with a bored, dutiful expression…until she’d spotted me. She yanked on the reins to stop the royal procession in order to stare at me, her eyes wide with astonishment. Shock rippled over me as I stared back. It was almost like looking in a mirror.

  His Highness Crown Prince Nolan noticed his sister’s distraction and urged her to resume the procession. She obediently did so, stealing several backward glances at me until she was out of sight.

  I’d foolishly thought that encounter would be the only one I’d have with Her Highness, but later that day she managed to track me down while I tended my geese in the meadow surrounding our cottage. The darling, mischievous things waddled around me as I sat with my journal in my lap, eagerly sketching a nearby cicadellidae I’d just spotted.

  Someone loomed over me, blocking out the light of the sun and casting my sketch in shadow. I looked up and was startled to see Her Highness before me, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “There you are, peasant girl. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

  I gaped up at her. What was the princess doing here, speaking to me? I cast a nervous glance at the guard who’d accompanied her, and he made the motion that I was supposed to rise and curtsy. I hastily stood—causing my journal to slide off my lap—and dipped into an inelegant bob.

  Princess Lavena bent down to scoop up my journal. She wrinkled her nose as she examined my drawing. “What’s this?”

  “A leafhopper, Your Highness.” A leafhopper that had sadly hopped away at the princess’s arrival, leaving my sketch forever unfinished. “A sharpshooter, specifically.”

  I bit my tongue to keep my usual monologue about all their fascinating features at bay. The princess obviously didn’t care for bugs, as was evident by her disgusted scoff as she roughly flipped through my journal. I ached to snatch it back from her; I clenched my hands to resist the impulse.

  “Fascinating,” she said in a tone indicating she didn’t find it fascinating at all. She tossed my journal aside and stepped closer, her expression bright and eager. “We look very much alike.”

  The similarities were even more striking up close; we could easily pass for sisters. Uncanny. “Indeed we do, Your Highness.”

  She smiled but it looked more like a smirk, as if she were plotting something. “It’s providence. Thus you must become my new handmaiden.”

  She wanted me to become what? “But Your Highness, I’m a goose girl and couldn’t possibly—”

  “That wasn’t a request but a command,” she snapped. “It’s a great honor to be selected as my handmaiden, especially for a lowly goose girl such as yourself. So I strongly suggest you silence your protests and accept my generous offer.”

  I clenched my jaw against the arguments eager to burst free. Because she was a princess I had no choice in the matter.

  I’d been serving her ever since. It had quickly become clear why Princess Lavena had been so eager for my appointment: I was to be her reluctant accomplice whenever she desired to take advantage of our strong resemblance, forcing me to take her place whenever she saw fit.

  And now, these many years later, we’d make our final switch, this one permanent.

  I longed to remain lost in this final sunrise before my life changed forever, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, I was eventually forced to stir. I trudged into Princess Lavena’s room, where she waited for me with her usual disapproving scowl.

  “Watching the sunrise again, Anwen?”

  I closed my eyes to bask in one of the last times I’d ever hear my name.

  “I hope you enjoyed it,” the princess continued. “Because once you become me, mornings will be a thing of the past.” As if mentioning the early hour reminded her of how much she hated them, she yawned.

  I gritted my teeth. “I won’t give up my sunrises.” Especially when I was already forced to give up everything else.

  “You have no choice. You’ll have to accustom yourself to my habits and begin sleeping in. Surely, you’ve seen plenty of sunrises to satisfy a lifetime.”

  Her words were a reminder of one of many things I was giving up with this scheme of hers. “Your Highness, do see sense. You can’t toss aside your birthright just because of your distaste for your arranged marriage.”

  “You’re so selfish, Anwen. As if I want to spend my life in a loveless union when I can be free with my minstrel.”

  Her relationship with her minstrel would likely not last a week. It hadn’t taken her past beaus long to realize that the princess’s pretty face wasn’t worth the trouble. “What will you do once you tire of him?”

  “I won’t,” Princess Lavena said. “He’
s different than the others.”

  Why? He possessed a higher tolerance? Doubtful. I gave her a skeptical look.

  She shrugged. “Even if I eventually tire of him, I’ll just find someone else. Anyone is better than Liam; he’s so childish. You should be grateful for the opportunity I’m providing for you—it’s not every day a common girl can become a princess. This arrangement is perfect for both of us.”

  No, it was only perfect for her. Not only was she putting me in danger, but I had no desire to be a princess. I wanted to continue arguing, but the rest of my protests died in my throat as Princess Lavena tugged me over to her wardrobe and began readying me for the wedding that would seal my fate.

  The princess pulled off my handmaiden dress. “After the wedding, you’ll immediately leave with your new husband for your honeymoon at the summer palace. I’m so relieved you’ll be enduring that instead of me. I can’t imagine being stuck at that ancient palace with only Liam’s company for an entire month.” She wrinkled her nose.

  My stomach knotted—not because I disliked the prince, but because the thought of pretending to be someone he hated sounded unbearable. “Surely, a month together is enough time for him to notice our differences. Whatever will I do then?”

  The mirror reflected the princess rolling her eyes behind me. “How many times do I have to tell you? He won’t. Nobody will.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? I’ve been in his presence several times while serving as a chaperone for you.”

  “Yes, but you’re a servant. No one notices your kind.”

  Unfortunately, this argument was all too true. As a servant, I was insignificant and not worth the notice of anyone of the upper class, especially a prince. Once again, my attempts to fight against the princess’s ridiculous plan had failed.

  I stared gauntly at my reflection as the transformation took place—my servant uniform replaced with a gorgeous silk wedding dress, cosmetics put on my face, the sharp stinging pain as Lavena not-so-gently pierced my ears for pearl earrings, my usual handmaiden bun tugged free, and my thick brown hair twisted into an elegant style. Despite my nerves, I secretly loved the feeling of silk against my skin. Would I ever grow used to it?

  Princess Lavena stood back to survey her work with a critical frown. “You look ravishing…except for your hair; I don’t quite have your talent. No matter, your veil will cover most of it. Liam wouldn’t notice it even if it didn’t; he never looks at me. That’s why this will work.”

  “Prince Liam may not notice our switch, but Their Majesties certainly will.” It was the biggest flaw in her plan.

  “They won’t. I’ve already given them my farewells, you’ll be veiled during the wedding, and things will be too hectic after the ceremony for them to greet you.”

  My heart sank; she’d considered everything. But I refused to give up. “Their Majesties will visit Draceria,” I said with more feeling than I felt.

  Princess Lavena’s hands shook as she pinned the veil into my updo. “My marriage won’t make them suddenly eager to spend time with me. In truth, they’ll be glad to be rid of me.”

  “They’re your parents, Your Highness.”

  “That doesn’t make any difference.” Her voice wavered and she fiddled with her hair, a nervous habit of hers. “I’m merely a means to an end. They don’t care for me.”

  Despite my annoyance with her, sympathy washed over me. Could the princess’s habits of constantly finding new men merely be her attempts to seek affection any way that she could? She caught my gaze and her vulnerable expression hardened into a cold mask of indifference.

  “They do care for you, Your Highness,” I said gently. “Thus they’ll visit you, and when they do, they’ll detect our switch with a single glance. Any parent would recognize their own child.”

  The princess ignored my comment and surveyed our reflections standing side by side in the mirror, analyzing them with a critical air. While our features were very similar, they were arranged differently enough to make us not identical. Acquaintances—including Prince Liam—might not be able to decipher the subtle differences in our appearances, but her family and those who knew the princess well would definitely notice I wasn’t her. It might not be today, but it would happen, that much was certain. I ached to escape that inevitable fate, but the contract ring tightened around my finger at my desire, representing the noose that would one day be around my neck.

  I stared at my reflection as Princess Lavena finished helping me get ready, watching the last bits of me slip away, likely forever. My dangerous charade was about to begin.

  I waited for my cue to walk down the aisle, squeezing my bouquet of daffodils so tightly I was certain their stems would snap. His Majesty stood beside me, ready to escort me, the veil covering my face my only protection from his discovery. Once again I tried to fight against the power of the ring, but it kept me riveted to the king’s side.

  I stared desperately at the door, silently pleading for Princess Lavena to return and rescue me from her scheme.

  She didn’t.

  The anxiety knotting my stomach tightened. This was really happening, but it had to be a nightmare. Wake up, Anwen, wake up. Unfortunately my horrible situation wasn’t a dream, but was instead all too real.

  The orchestra began playing, notes that sounded to me like the drones of a funeral procession. Icy fear seeped over me and my feet refused to move. The king hesitated when I did, then gently carried me forward with his stride. Everyone stood and watched as I took one shaky step after another down the endless aisle towards the altar, where His Highness Prince Liam stood waiting for me.

  I met his gaze and sucked in a sharp gasp. His entire manner was hardened and twisted in pure hatred. With each step closer to him his glare sharpened, ripping me apart.

  I yanked my eyes away but I could still feel his skewering gaze. I looked desperately around the attentive audience, hoping that even through the veil my switch with the princess would be discovered before I became trapped forever. Someone notice, I silently pleaded.

  No one did.

  I was nearly to Prince Liam. I stole another peek at his expression, bracing myself for his viciousness. However, he was no longer looking at me but at his parents, his eyes wide and pleading, his own evident desperation to break free from an arrangement he hadn’t asked for either.

  But they didn’t come to his rescue, just as no one came to mine. We were both trapped, mere pawns entangled in words and contracts not of our making, forced to be bound together forever.

  Prince Liam returned his attention to me the moment I reached him. He stiffly lifted my veil and his open hostility melted away as he stared into my eyes, his own frustrated but resolved. A strange energy passed between us as he studied my face, raking his gaze over it, as if searching for something he desperately needed to find.

  I waited for his perusal to be finished, my heart hammering and my hands shaking. Despite my earlier misgivings, I still hoped that surely he’d notice the switch; he’d been around the princess enough times these past seven years to be able to tell the difference. But he too failed me.

  He sighed resolutely and held out his hand. I shakily rested mine in his; he held it loosely, barely touching me. With a sideways glance at one another, we knelt at the altar. The music ceased, leaving behind silence: the audience’s one of anticipation, the one between Prince Liam and me fraught with tension.

  The priest’s words washed over me as the ceremony began, but I scarcely heard him, only aware of the shudders raking over me and Prince Liam’s grazing fingers. I peeked sideways at him. He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight.

  As if sensing my gaze, he glanced at me in time to witness the single tear that trickled down my cheek. He narrowed his eyes at it before he sighed and briefly squeezed my fingers before turning back to face the priest, an assurance that he understood my pain, for he undoubtedly felt it, too.

  All too soon it was time to recite our vows. My heart pounded frantically. This was really happenin
g, but it couldn’t be. I tried to make myself speak the words that would expose me before it was too late, but they remained lodged in my throat as the ring burned threateningly on my finger. How could mere metal hold so much power?

  “I do.” Prince Liam spat out the words venomously. The priest’s gaze shifted to me and my insides turned to ice.

  “Do you, Your Royal Highness Princess Lavena of Lyceria, take this man, His Royal Highness Crown Prince Liam of Draceria, to be your wedded husband?”

  My shakes became tremors and my breathing sharpened. I ached to shake my head, but once again the princess’s ring prevented me.

  The priest prompted me with his eyes, my cue to say the words that would bind me to this prince, no more than a stranger—a stranger who hated me…or rather who he thought was me, which was now essentially the same thing. I couldn’t live in such a marriage. But my choice in the matter had been cruelly ripped away, and it was impossible to break free.

  “I—” No, I couldn’t do this. Was there truly no way out? “I—”

  Prince Liam glanced at me with a wry smile, as if he sensed my internal struggles. Ever so slightly, understanding softened his eyes, erasing a few of the hard lines of his bitter expression. With it I felt a glimmer of hope. Prince Liam might hate both me and our marriage, but he wasn’t a bad person. It was enough to give me the courage to succumb to the ring’s power and allow it to push me down a path neither one of us wanted to walk.

  “I do.” My voice shook as I spoke the words. Prince Liam slumped in defeat.

  I scarcely heard the priest’s pronouncement that we were husband and wife, only his invitation for us to seal the union with a kiss.

  I stiffened and Prince Liam gave me a look like he’d just been asked to kiss a porcupine. With a twisted expression, he leaned over and brushed the briefest touch of his lips along my cheek—scarcely a kiss at all—before he yanked away. We both stood, and still maintaining our loose contact, turned to the applauding crowd.