I knew I was in trouble the minute I stepped into the room.

The first indication was when I approached the door to the Great Hall. The footman flung the door open dramatically and announced, “Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Jennica Allayne Kenetria Denyah of Calia.” What a mouthful. My formal title included the names of my two grandmothers and one of our ancestors—Allayne the Clever, who had saved the kingdom of Calia with her quick thinking against the Djinn of Krean. It was customary for royal children to have at least one name honoring an ancient ancestor, with the thought that the qualities that made that ruler so revered would be passed on to the namesake. While I loved hearing the legends surrounding Allayne the Clever, I doubted I would ever be called upon to save the kingdom like she did.

And why introduce me like that, when the only others dining were my parents?

Except it wasn’t just the three of us. There was another man present, who, along with my parents, stood when I entered. That was my second clue.

My father and mother were arrayed in their formal finery as well. In addition, my father, King Hendon of Calia, was positively dripping with the royal jewels. It was a constant source of amusement to the courtiers and the servants (or so Taryn told me) that the king liked to wear more jewelry than his wife, Queen Melandria. My mother only ever wore her simple gold wedding band; she hated fussing with other pieces of jewelry, and barely tolerated wearing her crown for official functions. In contrast, my father adored showing off his wealth and position. His fingers boasted a myriad of rings, and he often wore at least one, but usually several, gaudy adornments around his neck. Tonight I could see a deep red ruby at his throat, ostentatious even for him.

Once I reached the table, my father introduced me to the newcomer. “This is Prince Anders, of the kingdom of Rothschan. Prince Anders, may I present my daughter, Jennica.”

Prince Anders bowed over my hand, placing a delicate kiss on it. “You’re lovelier than I could have imagined, Princess,” he said. “You look beautiful in that dress. Of course, red is my favorite color.” The prince himself was resplendent in a deep red and gray tunic—the colors of Rothschan. Now my father’s insistence on choosing my dinner dress made sense.

Rothschan, to the west, was where my father was from. He didn’t talk much about his life before coming to Calia; all I knew was that his parents had died when he was young and he served for several years as a squire to a renowned knight who was stern, but fair. Shortly after my father was knighted, his master died in battle, and the newly knighted Sir Hendon left Rothschan to find his fortune.

“Thank you,” I stammered, unsure of how I should react. I looked at my parents. My father had a smug look on his face. My mother, however, looked worried.

Sign number three.

“No need for such formality,” my father declared. I gave him a dirty look, considering I was the one who had been forced into formality for this surprise meeting. My father handily ignored me and swept his arm across the table. “Shall we dine?”

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We all sat. My father was in his usual spot at the head of the table. My mother was in her usual spot on the king’s left. I, however, had been unseated. Prince Anders was at the king’s right, which was my normal place at the table. It moved me down one seat and put the prince in between me and my father. The seating arrangement ensured that I would have to talk to the prince during the majority of the meal. I could still converse with my parents, but it would be potentially considered rude, since they weren’t directly next to or across from me and I would have to talk over our guest’s head to address them.

Clever, father. Very clever.

The first course appeared before us. I picked at the food on my plate, my appetite gone.

Putting my fork and knife down, I stared straight ahead, my eyes alighting on the swords hanging on the walls. Like the paintings, these also represented the rich history of Calia. Many of the swords had belonged to former kings and queens, with the Sword of the First King in a place of honor by the throne. It was mostly used for ceremonial purposes, although we hadn’t had a knighting or anything like that in a few years.

Prince Anders ate a few bites of his dinner, then sat back and looked at me squarely with piercing blue eyes.

“So, Princess, tell me of yourself,” Prince Anders said, pushing his blond hair back from his face.

“What would you like to know?” I asked, a bit shyly. He really was handsome, the kind of man Taryn and my other ladies-in-waiting would giggle about when they thought they were out of my earshot.

“Anything,” he said. “How do you fill your days? My two younger sisters are accomplished at dancing and embroidery.”

“I learn those things as well,” I said. “But my favorite thing is magic study. My tutor says I’m quite proficient at it.”

Prince Anders made a choking sound. I thought he was trying to stifle a laugh, and I relaxed, thinking I had found a kindred spirit. Over the table, my father glared at me and shook his head ever so slightly. I looked again at the prince. He wasn’t laughing. In fact, his gentle face had turned stormy.

“As Rothschan is a land of military might, not magic, we do not trust something so illogical and esoteric,” Prince Anders declared. “I understand Calians are born with this ‘gift’—if it could even be thought of as such. Personally, I don’t think anything so unnatural could be a good thing. It is abhorrent, and not an acceptable thing for a princess to learn.”

I gasped at the insult. My father rushed in to smooth things over.

“I completely agree, Prince Anders,” he said. “After twenty years in this kingdom, it’s refreshing to hear such truth spoken. I’ve often despaired at being a good ruler when my heart disagrees with something the people consider inherent to their happiness. But you are right. It is a disgusting, unbecoming custom here in Calia. That is why Jennica will no longer be studying such things. I have already dismissed her magic tutor. I will have her magic books burned tonight.”

I gasped again, this time at Father. Studying magic was the one thing, of all my lessons, that I actually enjoyed and excelled in. While my father wasn’t indulgent of me, he had never interfered in most aspects of my upbringing.

Until now.

“But, Father, why—”

My father cut me off. “A girl—no, a woman—of nineteen hardly needs something as repulsive as magic. It’s about time you represented your station well.”

“But—”

“Don’t fret,” Prince Anders interrupted smoothly. “When you’re my wife, you won’t need such frivolities to amuse yourself.”

“What?” I recoiled from the prince. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s all set,” my father informed me. “It will be a perfect political alliance.”

“Rothschan looks forward to uniting with Calia,” Prince Anders said, inclining his head toward my father.

My mother’s eyes flashed between worried and sad.

“I can’t believe this!” I cried. “No one told me any of this! When is this to happen?” I looked at my father, who had that smug look from earlier back on his face.

But instead of my father, it was the oily voice of Prince Anders that answered me.

“Soon, Princess. In one month’s time, you shall be my bride.”