Golden Sails Chapter One Preview

(Enjoy a free preview of the first chapter from my upcoming novel, Golden Sails. To learn more or to pre-order, go here)

Salty air and the crash of waves washed over Annalise long before she opened the thick door. Her lips curved into a smile as the creaking of old wood echoed loudly in the stone corridor. Torches flickered as a gust of wind swept the scent of the sea into the dank hall. Annalise closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, a sense of peace and home slowly filling her veins. She stepped out of her silk slippers and sighed contentedly as the cold marble turned into powder-soft sand under her feet.

“We’re going to get caught, Annie,” an irritated voice whispered from behind her.

Annalise rolled her eyes but didn’t slow her pace. “No one’s making you come with me,” she called back as the cold water of the Vitan Sea washed over her toes.

Despite the glare Annalise knew her companion was giving her, she heard the sound of shoes being kicked off. It wasn’t a secret that Lisbeth preferred the meticulously kept greenhouse and cozy library to the sandy shoreline. And she especially preferred sleeping in, unlike her early-rising sister, but she had allowed Annalise to convince her to make an exception for this morning. After all, it might be one of the few mornings the two sisters had left with each other—a fact both knew but didn’t want to acknowledge.

Annalise turned to see her younger sister a safe few inches away from the water. Annalise took another step, the water now above her ankles and wetting the hem of her chemise, then cocked her head with a daring smile.

“You know, the whole point of this was to enjoy the ocean with me,” Annalise teased.

“I can enjoy it perfectly fine from here, thanks.” Lisbeth tucked a stray light-brown curl behind her ear. The rest of her long hair was safely pinned up in a bun.

“Suit yourself.” Annalise shrugged, tossing her own loose, dark brown hair over one shoulder. “Once you see the sunrise over the horizon, you’ll change your mind. It’s like the whole realm comes alive with the water.”

“You’re crazy,” Lisbeth grumbled as the dawn breeze made both women shiver. “We have a perfectly good view from our window. And from our nice, comfortable beds.”

“It’s not the same as feeling it.”

“What I would like to feel is warm.”

Annalise chuckled at her sister’s words and turned to the horizon. She spared a glare at the massive fence separating her from the wild, open sea. The dark, enchanted metal of Ocearan Iron always gave her a bad feeling. It didn’t matter what the king said about the gate protecting their family from dangerous, magical creatures. To Annalise, it was just another reminder of how trapped she was behind the walls of the Golden Palace.

But as the sun crept from beyond the horizon and bathed the ocean in pink and gold, the longing in her soul was somewhat soothed. With a slight ache in her chest, Annalise gently touched the small conch shell hanging around her neck. A gift from her mother, and one of the few remaining traces of the late queen’s existence. She thumbed the smooth, curling shell, each twist and bump familiar after spending her whole life clinging to it and wondering about her true mother.

Even though she had been told it was the unforgiving waves that had claimed her mother’s life, Annalise was still inexplicably called to the sea.

Ignoring her sister’s horrified gasps about ruining her shift, Annalise waded out to the metal gate. The water soaked through the thin fabric up to her chest, but Annalise didn’t stop until her hands were clutching the thick, impenetrable iron. On this day, more than ever, Annalise found herself wishing she could squeeze through the narrow bars to freedom. Her father always shot down her requests to take a voyage on a ship, no matter how short it would be or how many guards would be present. Despite all the times he had harshly reminded Annalise about what had happened to her mother, she couldn’t stop asking to leave again and again.

There was something about the sea that sang to her very blood.

She just wished she knew what it was.

“Someday,” she promised the water, “someday I’ll be out there.”

The screech of seagulls and the hum of sailors at the nearby port filled the Ocearan sky with its usual early morning symphony. The air grew warm as the day officially began. With a reluctant sigh, Annalise tore herself away from the gate and trudged back to shore.

“Hope it was worth the hypothermia you’re going to get,” Lisbeth said when Annalise was back on dry ground. “I can’t believe you do this every morning.”

“I bet if you joined me more often, you’d start to enjoy it too.”

“Doubtful,” Lisbeth teased before pulling her into a tight hug. “Happy Birthday, Annie.”

“Thanks, Beth.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe it’s already here.”

“I know, eighteen.” Lisbeth wrinkled her nose and made a show of looking her sister up and down. “You’re practically an old maid.”

Annalise kicked water at her and scoffed, “You’re only a few years behind me.”

“And I’m counting each one.”

Both laughed, for a brief moment forgetting exactly what this day meant for Annalise. But the distraction couldn’t last forever, and Annalise felt her smile fade into a troubled frown. The morning sunshine was mocking her now. How could it be such a perfect day on what would undoubtedly be the worst one of her life?

“It might not be so bad,” Lisbeth piped up optimistically.

“That’s as likely as meeting a friendly mermaid,” Annalise said flatly. “I’ll be married by the end of the month to a man I haven’t even met yet!”

“Mother says there will be plenty of time for you two to get to know each other this week.” Lisbeth tried to flash a reassuring smile. “Besides, Father and Duke Prettiness have been close friends for decades. I doubt he would marry you off to the man’s son if he wasn’t absolutely positive that he was a good person.”

Unable to stomach her younger sister’s optimism, Annalise crossed her arms and glared at the sky. “More likely Father picked the duke’s son because they’ve been close friends for decades.”

“Well, why can’t both things be true?” Lisbeth argued, resting her hand on her sister’s shoulder. Annalise jerked away from the touch before storming back to the door they had come through. “You said it yourself,” Lisbeth continued as she trailed after her. “You haven’t met him. Why are you so quick to expect the worst?”

Annalise stopped so quickly that her sister bumped into her, but she barely even felt it. Her mind was flooded with memories of shouting, pounding on doors, and a scream that haunted her nightmares. She had seen the worst of arranged marriages and had never feared anything more.

Misinterpreting Annalise’s silence as a sign she had gotten through to her, Lisbeth pushed on. “You don’t have to be so pessimistic about it, Annie. This could be the start of something great!”

Annalise had heard that before, too. It was at her father’s and stepmother’s wedding. She had only been a toddler then, but the years had made it clear that their marriage had been the start of something awful.

“Something great?” Annalise faced her sister with a severe frown. “You can’t even begin to understand how not great this could turn out to be, Beth.”

She flushed under her glare. “I know it might be awkward at first—”

“Awkward? You think I’m worried because my arranged marriage might be awkward?” Annalise cursed the fact that she had inherited her father’s temper, no matter how hard she tried to repress it. “Goddess above, Lisbeth,” Her sister flinched at the use of her full name. “If you had any idea about what it’s like for Miranda, you wouldn’t—”

Abruptly, Annalise cut herself off. Dread settled in her stomach like an anchor as she realized her mistake at the same moment Lisbeth’s face went pale.

Oh, so not great, Annalise thought as her mind raced for something to say.

But Lisbeth beat her to it as, in a quietly confused voice, she asked, “What do you mean about what it’s like for Mother?” Her eyes brimmed with worry. “She said she and Father are a perfect match.”

“Right,” Annalise managed after a noticeable pause. She did not sound convincing, even to herself. “They are. Forget I said anything.”

“Then why did you—”

Her sister was unable to finish her question as the sound of clanging metal and boots running across stone echoed from the corridor where they were headed. They exchanged a glance, then looked back in time to see four guards slamming the old door open and bursting onto the sand. Two of the royal guards immediately flanked the sisters as the other two darted in opposite directions of the courtyard.

Watching the iron and golden armor glint in the sunshine left Annalise with an uncomfortably familiar itch in her brain. This wasn’t the first time the royal guards had found her out here before dragging her back to her parents. It was the most exposed area of the Golden Palace and somewhere she shouldn’t be alone, yet Annalise continued sneaking out.

The arrival of a fifth figure made both Annalise and Lisbeth straighten their spines. Lisbeth’s face scrunched with apologetic shame, already bracing herself for a scolding. Annalise, on the other hand, just sighed with annoyance and glared at the approaching woman.

The two guards, who had searched the courtyard for any intruders or danger, reappeared and bowed deeply. They bent so low in their heavy armor that Annalise was half-expecting them to remain stuck in that position. An amused snort escaped her at the mental image before she could stop it, earning a dark look from everyone else.

“My Queen,” One of the guards said with a tinny echo from his metal helmet. “The area is secure.”

The queen’s eyes were cold as ice and never left Annalise’s face. “Thank you. Please wait inside. I can handle it from here.”

All four guards nodded in unison before marching back to the corridor. They were perfectly in sync, from their steps to the very jangle of their armor. It was an intimidating effect when the whole unit was involved, but just the four men alone made for a very strange sight in Annalise’s opinion.

“Annalise. Lisbeth.” The queen’s voice was terrifyingly calm as she placed her hands on her hips. “Just what am I going to do with you two?”

Even with her dark red lips frowning in irritation, Annalise’s stepmother was still the most beautiful woman in the entire kingdom. Originally from the Astora Isles, Miranda’s marriage to the Ocearan king turned the two kingdoms from rivals to very tentative allies. Annalise’s father would help purge Astora of magical creatures just as he had done for their other conquered allies in the south, and in return, the king would have a new bride after the unexpected passing of his late wife. It also didn’t hurt that Miranda had effortlessly caught the king’s eye during Oceara and Astora’s treaty negotiations.

There were countless ballads about the beauty of Queen Miranda, yet none about the following years of violence as both kingdoms wiped out countless magical species.

Her beauty was only rivaled by her coldness. Ice Queen, Annalise thought to herself as Miranda narrowed her eyes at her. To the queen, Annalise would always be nothing more than a barrier to Lisbeth’s ascent to the throne and a reminder that Miranda was just as replaceable as Annalise’s mother had been.

She was glad to not be anything like the queen.

Lisbeth had somehow managed to embody all the positive aspects of her mother without any of her cruelty. At just fourteen, she already displayed the same fairness and grace as the queen. They had the same celestial-shaped nose, a spattering of freckles on ivory skin, and gray-blue eyes that always lit up with amusement at the smallest things. Lisbeth’s light-brown hair held the same loose and voluminous curls as her mother’s blonde locks, although Miranda rarely let her hair down now. As the queen, she was expected to maintain her appearance at all times, including first thing in the morning.

“Well?” Miranda demanded when neither spoke up.

“Sorry, Mother,” Lisbeth whispered with her head lowered submissively.

Annalise whipped her gaze from her sister to Miranda before stepping between them.

“It’s my fault.” She withstood the queen’s disappointed glare even though every part of her wanted to run. “I’m the one who dragged her out here.”

There was a tense pause as the two women stared each other down. Miranda pursed her lips at Annalise’s stubborn glare. They’d played this game enough times to know neither would be the first to break. Finally, the queen gestured at Lisbeth with a flippant wave of her hand.

“The guards will escort you back to your chambers. The ladies are waiting to help you get ready for tonight,” Miranda ordered without glancing at Lisbeth. “I’ll bring Annalise back myself.”

Annalise scowled at Miranda, knowing she was about to get a lecture or worse from the irritated queen. Noticing Lisbeth’s hesitation at leaving, she nodded and snuck a smile when Miranda wasn’t watching. It didn’t matter if she was scared out of her mind or not; Annalise would never show fear toward their parents in front of Lisbeth.

During the three years before the king remarried, it was Annalise alone who took the brunt of her father’s rages. To avoid being targeted herself, Miranda learned to redirect the king’s tumultuous moods away from herself and back onto his firstborn. Very soon, Annalise found herself a victim of both adults. And still, Annalise made sure their tempers were only ever directed at her—if not each other—but never at Lisbeth. Annalise knew she could continue to bear it. She had to, so Lisbeth didn’t.

Reassured by her sister’s smile, Lisbeth joined the guards in the hall. The heavy wooden door closed with an ominous boom, leaving Annalise and Miranda on the beach.

It was clear the queen expected Annalise to make the first move. An apology, an excuse, any sort of groveling, really, always went a long way with both her parents. Which is why Annalise crossed her arms and waited.

She was irritated with the queen. It was a perfect morning. The sun was out and thawing the usually frigid Ocearan air into a comfortable temperature. The waves were lazily dancing up and down the shore in a soothing melody. It was Annalise’s favorite time of day, and it was her birthday.

Yet sneaking out this morning was the only free choice she’d be allowed to make for the entire week. Being a princess wasn’t as fun as fairytales would have people believe.

Miranda sighed as if she had read Annalise’s mind. She glided across the sand to a smooth boulder, dusted its surface with her hand, and gracefully sat down in a way that made her large crimson skirts billow around her. The gold and pearl crown glowed atop her white-blonde hair. She was everything a queen should be.

And Annalise knew she could never live up to her.

Miranda patted the space next to her in an unusually patient manner. After hesitating to see if it was a trap, Annalise joined her. She suddenly felt very conscious of her sandy feet, soaked chemise, and unbrushed hair compared to Miranda’s own polished shoes and fine skirts.

“So, decided to sneak out, did we?” Miranda asked the question like it was a statement. Perhaps it was, considering she had quite literally caught Annalise in the act.

“Well, it is my birthday,” Annalise muttered. “Shouldn’t I be allowed some fun today?”

“Annalise.” The queen pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “We need tonight to go well. Your father and I are expecting you to be on your best behavior and—”

“And willingly marry a stranger. Yes, I know,” Annalise snapped.

Miranda stiffened, no doubt shocked and offended by the rude interruption. Annalise wasn’t sure why her behavior always seemed to surprise the queen. Since Lisbeth’s birth, when Miranda had made it known that one princess was her real daughter and the other was just an obligation, Annalise had dropped any remaining pretenses of niceness.

“It is your duty as the eldest daughter to do what is best for the kingdom,” Miranda began quietly.

“But what does marrying a duke’s son have to do with Oceara?” Annalise yanked her hand through the tangles in her hair out of frustration. “It’s not like the kingdom will be too impacted by whoever gets me pregnant—”

“Goddess, Annalise!”

“—since that’s what this whole marriage is about, right? Producing an heir? So why can’t I just marry for love?”

“We’ve already discussed this,” the queen groaned as she rubbed her temples. “This marriage is about more than producing an heir. Duke Prettiness oversees Streiss, which all of Oceara relies on for our iron. That duchy is—despite how far away and backwater it is—perhaps the most important bit of land in all our realm.” She sighed and placed a hand on Annalise’s shoulder, whose frown deepened but didn’t bother shaking her off. “We need total control of that iron, and ensuring a strong bond between us and Prettiness is the best way to do it.”

Annalise glared at her balled-up fists. “You mean the enchanted iron that we use to kill monsters even though we purged Oceara years ago?”

“If you truly believe that all those beasts have been destroyed and we can let our guard down,” Miranda snapped in a tone as sharp as a slap to the face, “then you are a fool, Annalise Kennisngton.”

She didn’t flinch as the queen’s sharp nails dug into her shoulder. Instead, Annalise turned her gaze on Miranda, letting her eyes sweep over the clean crown and the ornate fabric of her dress.

“You’re a fool if you think it’s fair that we have to marry for duty when Father got to marry whoever he wanted.” Her expression darkened. “Twice.”

On the outside, Miranda maintained her composure. To a watching bystander, the queen’s patience would have been impressive. But Annalise knew better, and she could see the flicker of rage cracking the otherwise icy facade.

“Well, you aren’t your father, now are you?” Miranda said as she rose to her feet and glared down at her. “Sure, he desired me for my looks at first. And I remember being afraid when I left my home for him. Consider yourself lucky that you don’t have to leave your kingdom for another.” She brushed a strand of hair behind Annalise’s ear, a mockery of maternal affection. “I’ve met Prettiness’s son. Love will come with time, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me something you can’t be certain of.”

The glacier of Miranda’s temper finally shattered as the once gentle hand in Annalise’s hair tightened, yanking her head back. Annalise blinked back tears from the sudden pain. She couldn’t care less for Miranda’s feelings, but Annalise knew better than to push the now irate queen any further.

“Your father and I have humored you long enough,” Miranda snarled, beautiful features distorting with anger. “A few decades ago, you would have been married off when you were still just a girl. You’re turning eighteen today, and it’s high time you accepted your role in the realm.” She released her roughly. “You are a princess, Annalise, just as I was. It’s our duty to put the king and kingdom over selfish desires. If you don’t marry the duke’s son, it’s already been decided that Lisbeth will have to. And Goddess help me, I will do anything within my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. Have I made myself clear?”

The thought of Lisbeth, sweet and naive Lisbeth, having to marry a stranger made Annalise shudder.

She didn’t want to marry the pretentious, stiff son of a random duke either, but she wouldn’t force Lisbeth to take her place.

“Yes, I understand,” Annalise said quietly.

“Wonderful.” The rage had disappeared into triumphant relief as quickly as snow melted in the sun. “Now, go get dressed. There’s much to be done before the ball, and I want you looking your absolute best. We both know if Prettiness doesn’t like what he sees tonight, your personality won’t win him over, either.”

The barb hurt more than Annalise would admit, but she rose and returned to the palace without protest. Miranda didn’t follow, which was more insulting than if she had escorted Annalise to her room. It was like the queen knew she had temporarily ripped apart Annalise’s defenses and neutralized the threat. Annalise was too wrapped up in the reminder that the summer solstice festival would be a weeklong this year to care that Miranda had won this power grab.

An entire week of forced smiles and small talk, of wearing stiff dresses and monitoring her eating to avoid her parents’ jabs about her figure, loomed before Annalise. The regular, one-night solstice celebration was tiring enough on its own. But coupled with a week of balls, guests to entertain, and a mysterious suitor to win over, Annalise decided this week would be torture.

The trek from the shore to her private chambers was a blur after her conversation with Miranda. Seeing the crack in her cool, controlled veneer of perfection had been disorienting. She wasn’t stupid—despite what the queen might think—Annalise knew how her father and Miranda’s courting and marriage had gone down. It didn’t fill her with any hope for her own, but what truly had Annalise’s stomach in knots was the realization that Miranda must have once been like herself and Lisbeth. She must have been young and carefree, with dreams of her own that were soon replaced with marriage to a man she didn’t know and without any say in the matter.

She said their union had worked out for her, and perhaps the mutual apathy her parents had toward each other was the best-case scenario. Still, Annalise wondered: if Miranda could go back and change things, even if it meant never having Lisbeth or becoming queen, would she?

If I were her, I think I would, Annalise thought as she pushed the door to her bedroom chambers open. A startled gasp flew out of her mouth as she was immediately dragged inside.

“It’s about time you showed up, Princess! Of all the mornings to be hiding away! Where have you been? Never mind, never mind!” The woman spoke over any attempt at an excuse. “There’s much to be done!”

Annalise rolled her eyes as she was pushed to the plush stool in front of her vanity. She bit back a laugh as she watched the plump, red-faced nursemaid bustling around the room and snapping at the various attendants to get the two princesses ready for the ball. No matter what day it was, Wendy Thomas always acted like there wasn’t enough time in the world to get anything done. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun that seemed to bounce in agitation with her demanding orders.

Annalise met her sister’s gaze in the mirror and couldn’t help grinning. Lisbeth scowled as her lady-in-waiting tightened her corset. With her arms stuck out at her side above a large hoop skirt, ribbons hanging from her undergarments, and her hair held out of the way in a thick bun, Annalise found that Lisbeth looked more like a disgruntled plucked bird than a princess.

“Finally! They’ve been torturing me, Annie,” she complained, glaring at the nearest maid as Annalise laughed. “It’s an absolute outrage.”

“Oh hush, child!” Wendy swatted Lisbeth affectionately before pulling the last tie of her corset so hard she gasped for air. “No need for the dramatics.”

“An outrage,” Lisbeth repeated in a wounded tone.

Annalise managed to hold back another wave of laughter just as Wendy focused on her new target, brandishing a brush like a sword. “Oh, come now, Beth, it’s like Miranda always says. Beauty is pain and all that.”

“I don’t see why I have to suffer for your birthday celebration,” Lisbeth sniffed.

“Emotional support—OW,” Annalise yelped as Wendy ripped the brush through her hair.

“If you held still and washed your hair in something other than the ocean, this wouldn’t be so painful,” Wendy reprimanded as she dragged the brush through Annalise’s tangles. A few of the maids winced at the sharp, tearing sound.

To distract herself from the nursemaid clearly trying to rip all her hair out, Annalise watched as two of the ladies carefully pulled a shimmering purple gown over Lisbeth’s head. The silk fabric spilled across her sister’s hoop skirt in a violet waterfall that swished with the smallest of her movements. She sat down so the work on her hair could begin. A cluster of orchids sat on Lisbeth’s vanity, all the same, vibrant purple as the gown. Annalise knew the flowers would stand out beautifully in her sister’s chestnut-brown curls.

Wendy ordered Annalise to turn her gaze straight ahead and began twisting her long, dark brown hair into an intricate updo. Her fingers moved so quickly they seemed to blur in the mirror as she stuck pins and pearls into seemingly random places. Annalise just managed to close her eyes before a thick powder-covered brush patted against her face, followed by the quick application of rouge.

After reassuring herself that no more unexpected brushes would be bombarding her face, Annalise opened her eyes. As she stared at the woman in the mirror, she found that she didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was stacked high on her head, in a fashion similar to the ladies in the royal court. Annalise and Lisbeth had always found the style to be gaudy and over-the-top. With the additional pearls, Annalise felt completely ridiculous. The powder turned her already pale face a shade lighter than normal, and her wide, horrified eyes made Annalise think of a corpse rather than a princess.

The artificial blush on her cheeks and her quiet stammering were the only indicators of life otherwise.

“It seems a bit much, don’t you think?” Annalise finally asked as she turned her head from side to side.

“Wait until you see the dress,” Lisbeth muttered from across the room.

Her heart stalled. “What’s wrong with the dress?”

“Oh, enough of that,” Wendy scolded Lisbeth as she helped Annalise to her feet. “It’s a gift from the king himself.”

When Wendy snapped her fingers, two of the maids walked forward with a fabric-covered dress form. Annalise’s jaw dropped as she took in the displayed dress. Rows and rows of light, pink ruffles covered the bottom of the gown in a way that made it puff out like an upside-down tulip. The strapless neckline appeared dangerously low and seemed to be coated with some sort of sparkling dust, not too much but enough to be noticeable. The waist was cinched so tightly that Annalise felt her ribs ache. The mannequin it covered was modeled exactly like her body, which was how Annalise knew this was about to be the most ridiculous, poofy, and restricting dress she had ever worn in her life.

“Oh Goddess,” she managed, unable to look away from the bright pink disaster.

“It’s an original by Oceara’s top designer,” Wendy supplied helpfully. She must have thought Annalise was stunned into silence by awe and not horror. “It’s what all the high ladies are wearing.”

“So? That doesn’t make me dread wearing it any less.” Annalise frowned at the dress. It was overly cheery and trying too hard to seem elegant. She brushed her hands against the rows and rows of pink tulle and furrowed her brow at the glitter coming off.

Faerie dust, she thought, wiping it off on her chemise. How completely expected of them.

It had always been ironic to Annalise how much people hated magical creatures, either killing them or capturing them, and yet there was apparently no problem with using magical products. Faerie dust was one of the rarest magical items to exist, especially now that all the Fae had been killed or fled to the other side of the realm. Contrary to popular belief, faerie dust couldn’t make people fly or restore their youth or any of the other outlandish rumors surrounding the fine powder.

All it did was create a light, shimmering effect on whatever it was poured on. Annalise’s fingers looked like they’d been dipped in starlight. The effect would only last for a few hours, and come morning, no one would be able to find a trace of the purely aesthetic dust. The only reason her dress was doused in it was to show off her father’s wealth and power.

“My own birthday and I have to spend it trying to impress a man I don’t know or care about,” she muttered before storming away from the dress. “I can’t believe this.”

Wendy and Lisbeth exchanged a glance as Annalise shoved through the balcony doors and stepped outside. While Lisbeth went to check on her sister, Wendy hurriedly dismissed the other ladies with a somber whisper. Annalise rested her forearms on the balcony rail and didn’t react when her sister appeared next to her. The two sisters silently watched the various ships gliding through the smooth waves and the ever-beckoning horizon.

“You alright?” Lisbeth finally asked.

Annalise sighed. “Of course I’m not alright. I’m losing my freedom today. And at every turn, Father and Miranda are reminding me of how quiet, willing, and submissive I should be.” Her hands gripped the rail so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “It’s my life and I don’t even get a say in it. How could I possibly be alright?”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Change the law?” She smiled bitterly. “Convince Father to let me choose my own husband?”

Lisbeth hummed thoughtfully as Annalise let her attention stray back to the sea. Just once, she wanted to be free and explore the realm. One trip completely devoid of the Golden Palace’s walls or her parents’ rules, and that would be enough. Maybe she should be praying that her to-be husband wasn’t as strict as her parents and would let her go on a voyage.

“Who would you choose?”

Her sister’s soft voice jolted her from her thoughts. “What?”

“Who would you choose to marry?” At Annalise’s incredulous stare, she bumped her shoulder teasingly. “Come on. You have to have some idea. You can tell me.” She dropped her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Is it one of the guards?”

“Goddess no,” Annalise laughed before thinking for a moment. Her memory conjured an image of dark curls, whispered late-night conversations, and a smile that shone brighter than the sun. “Fine, if I could pick anyone . . . do you remember Tristan Barry?”

“The orphan boy?” Her eyes widened in shock. “The one who tried to break into the palace?”

“No, he wasn’t trying to break in! He was just . . .” Annalise trailed off as she debated continuing. This was one secret that was just hers. The one aspect of her otherwise carefully controlled life that couldn’t be taken away, at least in her memory.

Did she really want to share it, even with her sister?

“He was just . . .” Lisbeth prompted quietly.

I suppose, after today, it won’t matter what I’ve done in the past or not, Annalise thought. She took a steadying breath.

“Well, he would come to see me. Every night.” Annalise pointed at the iron gate separating the open ocean from the Golden Palace. “There used to be a tree over there that he would use to get over the gate. I would meet him there and wait for him to climb down, and we would talk. He told me about his life, and I told him about mine.”

Lisbeth listened with interest. “What happened to him?”

That was the very same question Annalise had been asking herself for the last eight years. After the night they were spotted, her friend had disappeared from her life entirely. She was afraid to consider the reasons why she might never see him again.

“Left for a better life, I suppose.” Annalise shrugged. “He always talked about running off to sea. Guess he finally did it.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t hide the rueful bitterness in her voice. The pitying frown on her sister’s face only made it worse.

“I’m sorry,” Lisbeth said, genuinely feeling for her sister. “It sounds like you really miss him.”

She did, and she would until the day she died, and Annalise knew none of it would matter.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said instead, attempting to sound unbothered. “It was a long time ago, though, so what can you do?”

Annalise forced herself away from the sea, from freedom, and from wherever Tristan may be. Instead, she looked at the Golden Palace, where Wendy was waiting impatiently by the suffocating pink dress, and at the caged life awaiting her.

With a smile Annalise didn’t feel, she looped her arm through Lisbeth’s and led the way inside.

“No point in delaying the inevitable, I suppose,” she told Lisbeth. “Destiny awaits.”