"You'll dance with me after the meal," Ry said. It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.

Kira thanked the servant as he placed the food on her plate. With disinterest in the conversation between Ry and Emma, Kira stabbed at her meal and shoveled it in her mouth. Dinner moved by in a blur, leaving behind the carnage of chicken bones and empty bowls. Kira's plate still held food when Ry pulled her to the dance floor. His hand locked with hers, drawing sneers from the young Glades' women and sighs from those who came from the plains and mountains. One hand drifted around her lower back, pulling her in closer. The other locked fingers with her as he led her in a slow dance. The crowd followed their lead, men selecting young women whose blush could illuminate a dark room.

"If I wake up with horse blood on my pillow again because of this—"

Ry's chest shook with his laughter. "Ah yes, the Ta'Gra Ball. Cayleene was proud of herself for that one. Whatever happened to her? She never returned from her Coming of Age dance."

"Knowing her, ankle deep in babies," Kira said.

Ry stepped back, twirling Kira around. Her canary yellow dressed puffed around her as she spun back into his arms. He grinned as he tilted her back, both hands pressing against her back. She laughed as her wild hair fell in her face as she popped back upright. Ry brushed the hair out of her face and over her shoulder.

"I have a proposition for you." He leaned down to press his cheek against hers. The stubble of his facial hair scrubbed against her smooth skin.

"I will not be joining you in the hay."

He laughed. "I never thought you would. You are the one woman I don't dare try to deflower."

"Because you know you couldn't handle me?" She purred, scratching her fingers against the back of his neck.

"More along the lines of, you'd gut me from sternum to navel. And I fear what you would do to a certain part of my anatomy I'm quite fond of."

"That, I would shove down your throat."

Ry shuddered. His lips lifted as his fingers curled around the sterling chain of Kira's necklace. Her necklace was the one remaining piece of her mother Kira had, she never took it off. A silver circle surrounded three interlocking spirals. At the end of each spiral rested an inset jewel. Two of the jewels were missing, empty brass sat in their place, while the third was a perfectly cut, round, ruby.

"As enjoyable as that sounds," Ry said, releasing the chain, "my proposition is this. Now that we are of age in the Kingdoms, certain expectations surround us."

"Really? You don't say." She held a hand to her lips, feigning a gasp.

"Shocking as that is . . ." He spun her around again before pushing his chest against hers. He leaned in closer, again his cheek grazed hers. " . . .we both enjoy our freedom far too much to give it up. Albeit we enjoy it in different ways."

"You'll romp through the hay with anything with breasts and I'd rather pluck feathers off things with breasts."

"Precisely." His breath danced against Kira's ear as he spoke, his voice low to hide from prying ears. "Your aunt may choose to deny you have the blood of a Wilder burning through your veins, but I'm not as foolish. A simple glance around this room tells me as such. Find me one other head with hair that lights as if it stands aflame."

Kira examined the room. Ry was right. No one else had the slightest tint of red in their hair. Fair hair the color of gold floated among the collection of brunettes and ebony colors, but none with the stark red of Kira.

She sighed. "I think I see where this is going."

"No man will be able tame you so long as you don't wish it, as no woman will tame me. We can have a marriage of convenience. You can continue your ways, and I can continue mine."

"And when our families expect me to produce an heir? What then? You're lucky your mother had to remain behind with the little ones and can't see you dancing with me instead of a woman she doesn't loath. Do you think she'd take kindly to me not carrying a grandchild for her?"

His lips grazed her ear when he whispered, "Then I will happily take you and provide such an heir."

"Of course you would. Meanwhile, I become the talk of the village because I have an unfaithful husband. I swear, Ry, I don't know how you don't have a thousand bastards running around already." She pushed him away, turning to leave. He grabbed her wrist, holding her in place, his light russet eyes pleaded with her.

"Think about it, Kira. That's all I ask. It makes sense, and you know it."

"I'll think about it."

He released her hand and she pushed her way through the dancers, heading toward the door. She knew he was right. No man would tame her, she never saw herself as the adoring wife. And Rylanne would never settle for one woman. However, she was also right. The gossip would be directed at her, she wasn't well liked in the Glades. If he found someone else . . .It wouldn't matter if they never consummated the marriage, in the eyes of the people they'd be husband and wife. The thought of giving the village more reason to stare at her made her blood boil.

People already glared because of her red hair. Only Wilders had red hair within the eight kingdoms. They were nomadic people, traveling the kingdoms with no home to call their own. Many hunters saw it as a nuisance the way they'd set up their camps outside the villages to trade. Their presence scared off the game, or they, themselves, hunted for it to trade. Farmers dreaded their arrival since it meant less money for their own crops. Wilders brought theirs to sell and often sold it cheaper.

Emma's brother, Kira's father, left the Glades for his own Coming of Age ceremony and didn't return for several years. When he had, he returned with a Wilder, carrying his child. They stayed for a month before vanishing again. Emma thought they were dead until Kira's mother showed up with an infant in hand. She begged Emma to care for Kira until the day she returned for her.

Her mother never returned.

Kira sighed, wandering through the winding stone halls of the castle, trying to find the exit for some fresh air. Guests of the Coming of Age dance stumbled past her in drunken embraces. One couple leaned against a pillar, unleashing moans and grunts. The woman's legs wrapped around the man, her skirts pushed up to make way for him. Hands hungrily clamped down on her thighs as the man devoured her face. Kira frowned, turning away from the public display and found another hall to search.

"It's arranged. I am betrothed the Princess." A man's voice boomed in Kira's head as loud as if he stood beside her. "My marriage shall make way for my reign over Morag. None can stop that."

She looked around. None of the servants in the hall paused at the sound of the voice. Her brow furrowed as she moved closer to the wooden door masking the voice. Kira pressed one ear to the cold stone of the wall. Her fingers trailed the grain of the wooden door as she closed her eyes. Gossip made Kira queasy, gossip about the Royal family even more, but something deep inside her told her to listen.

Magic spilled from her fingers, seeping through the wood as if it were cloth. Behind her eyelids she saw the wood ripple and fade to display the small chamber behind it.

Her power followed the veins of the black marble as it swirled through the room, touching every object until it revealed itself in her sight. A single bed stood against the wall, curtains tied to the four mahogany posts hung in billowing puffs. Silk sheets spread undisturbed over the mattress. A cloaked figure stood in front of a mirror hanging on the wall opposite from the bed. Kira barely saw the corners of what should've been the reflective surface. Instead, the mirror filled with gray clouds, swirling in a violent storm.

"Do they suspect your intentions?" Kira's senses searched for the origin of the second voice, the one with a deep throated gurgle and a hiss to the s'. But nobody else was in the room.

"No. They still think magic is extinct and Calandria is but a legend." A hand reached out from the cloak. White skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, a flame ignited in the palm. "The fools won't know what hit them until it's over. Once Morag is mine, access to the gates of Calandria shall be ours."

"And the Guardians? You're certain they're gone?"

"I killed the final one yesterday and took his power. I am confident the seal can be broken this time."

Kira's knees buckled, she struggled to maintain the connection. Sounds of crashing waves swirled through her ears as the cloaked figure twisted its head; the fire from his palm did nothing to illuminate the shadows surrounding his face.

"Someone is listening." The cloaked figure closed its fist around the flame. The cloud swirling within the mirror vanished, returning the reflective surface, as the figure turned its back to the mirror. Reflecting in the mirror was an empty room.

The contents of Kira's stomach threatened to free itself from their acidic tomb. She tried to open her eyes, but they refused to cooperate. The sight of the room faded to darkness. Colors pirouetted in the shadows of her eyelids, erupting in fishers and threatening to burn her retinas. Dizziness swept through her mind, she yanked her hand from the door and stumbled away, her eyes finally opened. From the other side of the wall, Kira heard the footsteps echoing as if walking in an empty room made of metal.

Her heart raced, she forced her body into action. Weak legs carried her, threatening to give out with every step. Servants cursed when she bumped in to them, making some drop the items they carried. One hallway turned into another, merging like one lengthy tunnel.She didn't know where she was going; she knew only that she had to get away from that room. Above all, she had to get away from the cloaked figure and the voice. When she exploded through the castle doors into the courtyard outside,her legs gave out on her, sending her tumbling down the stone stairs.