“Ricky.”

I rolled over in bed and glanced through the curtains to see the door open.

“Ricky, the day awaits.” My mother stepped inside. “Ricky, you better be up.”

Sighing, I turned onto my back and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

My mother threw back the curtains at the end of the bed. I blocked my eyes from the light. 

“Noon. The garden party is about to begin. Our guests are returning to the palace.” She eyed me. “Yet, I’m told you haven’t bothered to wake up yet.”

I moved to a seated position and shrugged. “Bad night. I didn’t sleep well, and when I did… sorry.” I held out my hand, and a maid who followed my mother in went to retrieve my robe.

My mother wandered around my room. “I was also informed you went out into the garden during the feast.”

I slipped my arms into the sleeves and did up the front. “I wanted to see what I was missing.”

“Ricky,” she breathed. “One day, a branch is going to break. They told me you fell,” she stated.

“I was a few feet off the ground. Stumbled over my own feet.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Stay out of that tree.”

I simply smiled and went to the bathroom. I could hear my mother talking to the maids. Finishing, I returned and had a bundle of clothes pressed into my chest.

“Let’s hurry,” said my mother. 

Nodding, I took them and slipped behind my changing curtain. “You put the final touches on these as well.”

“We’ve known for a year we’d be the host. I had time to prepare.”

Smiling to myself, I finished dressing and took my seat at the vanity. I slapped my hands on my thighs. “Alright, I’m ready.”

She eyed me with a coy smile. “Are you not old enough to do it yourself?” She picked up a brush.

“You’ll redo it.”

My mother laughed. “Because it’s never up to my standard.”

“What should I expect today?” I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “No one is going to hand me a sword, right?”

“That’s tomorrow.” She put my head where she wanted it. “Stay.”

“Can I hide tomorrow?”

“No,” she stated firmly. “You’ll watch with me in the stands. It’s not like your father participates in the tourney.”

I swallowed hard. “He won’t add me to the roster, right?”

She smiled. “No, Ricky. I mean no offense, but I don’t think watching his son be beaten into the ground by a mortal would help his reputation.”

“Thanks, Mother. A simple no would have been enough.”

“Well, it’s my job to keep you level-headed and realistic. Your gifts lie elsewhere.” 

I flinched when she pulled the braid too tight. “So today we’re going to relax and mingle with the royals? Cena was saying that Father hired performers: musicians and dancers.”

My mother nodded. “It’s a long journey for most to get here. It’s a day to recuperate and talk. They do a lot of talking.” She grabbed my shoulders. “Watch your words.”

“I will.”

She kissed the side of my head. “The mortals will play their games. Be careful.” She put in my earrings for me. “Remember who you are—a Prince of Thaloria, the crown prince.”

“I’ll be alright. If anything, my sparring teachers have taught me how to get up. Over and over, so I’ve gotten good at it.”

She smacked my arm, trying not to smile. “Don’t ruin my hard work.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”

***

Servants opened the doors leading into the garden for us. I escorted my mother outside. People were already wandering about, sipping wine and listening to the soft music.

“You should find your father.” She patted my arm. “I hope by seeing how the mortals treat their sons, he may start treating you better.”

“Hmm…” I took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you about something first? Something that happened last night?”

“Of course.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Alone.”

She raised her hand to signal her handmaids to leave. We continued down the path toward the backside of the garden.

“I don’t believe the story about you falling from the tree,” she said, keeping her gaze forward. “I hate that you climb into the top branches, but you’re not clumsy enough to fall.”

“Well, I don’t know if it makes you feel better to find out I was pushed.”

She stopped and turned sharply. “Who dared to lay their hands on you? Tell me who they are, and I’ll personally sign their death decree.”

I sighed. “I’d love that, but I don’t know. I had never seen them before, but they knew you. They made it sound like he was someone from your past.”

“He? What did he look like?” Her expression hardened.

“It’s hard to know.” I took a deep breath. “First, he appeared as an old man, then a young man.”

She held up her hand and breathed out through her nose. “I don’t need to know more.”

“Who is he?”

My mother lifted her chin, appearing annoyed. “Allseceen, if I could get a hold of him, the fae would already be dead. I’ve grown tired of his tricks, and now he’s starting to play them on my son.”

“He’s a shapeshifter,” I whispered. “I didn’t know fae could do that.”

“They can’t. He bends time.” She met my gaze. “Stay away from him. He’s not a normal fae.” She glanced at the flowers. “His kind are known for their medicine and ways with plants. Very few have the ability to go beyond that. Allseceen is, unfortunately, one that has learned to go beyond. I know him,” she stated. “But I do not like him.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Umm… he kind of tackled me.”

“Tackled you,” she exclaimed. “What would possess him to do such a thing? Threw you out of a tree and then tackled you—the gall.” She scanned the garden. “I doubt he had gone too far. He’s probably lurking nearby.”

“He—he looked at my mark.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

My mother’s eyes grew wide, and she grew still.

“I tried to stop him. I was trying to hide it like you said.”

“It’s fine.” She squeezed my hand. “Did he say anything else?”

“That someone was coming to take me home, and he was unimpressed by the state of my mark. It was undeveloped or something like that. I don’t understand what he meant. It’s just a mark.”

She nodded slowly. “Find your father.” My mother smiled. “I’ll see what I can find out about our unwanted guest.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” She clasped my cheek. “An old acquaintance who struggles to understand that I meant it when I said if I ever saw him again, I’d cut off his head myself.” Patting my face, she grinned. “Nothing serious. I’ll handle it.”

That sounded serious. Nodding, I stepped back. 

“Alright, I’ll leave it to you then.”

I escorted my mother to the palace, where her handmaids were waiting.

“Where is my husband?” she asked one.

“He took some of the guests to see the stables, Your Grace.”

She kissed my cheek. “Good luck.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m great at standing quietly in the corner.”

She scoffed. “Don’t you even think of it. My son will not be a silent bystander.” 

With a wave, she left to join the main party area while I headed for the stables. They were newly built for this occasion since we didn’t have enough space for all the elaborate carriages. 

Voices sounded up ahead. I considered taking another route to delay meeting up with them. They were getting closer to the exit. I glanced at the opening to a side wing and slipped inside. I heard the voices carry on in the other direction. My father was most likely showing off to the mortals, and I had enough know-how to keep my distance.

I stopped at a stall with one of the golden horses. The dust was missing from its nose. I knew it had to be paint; they weren’t actually gold.

“You don’t need all of this.” I ran my hand along his neck. “You’re pretty without it.”

“Alric.”

Flinching, I retracted my hand and turned to the exit. “Good afternoon, Father,” I said awkwardly. 

“Come here.” He waved for me.

I noticed the men gathered behind him. He clasped my shoulder when I was within reach.

“This is my son, Alric. Alric, I’d like to introduce you to King Jaquon of Gildorn.” 

He motioned to a broad man with a bushy, dark brown beard. His strong features matched my mental image of a mortal king. Even with my mother’s added embellishment to my attire, I felt inferior to them in more ways than just physically. I bowed my head slightly. “Your Majesty.”

“The mysterious prince finally appears,” King Jaquon laughed. “Why have you kept him hidden? I was starting to think you had two heads or three eyes.” He grinned.

“No, simply an overprotective mother,” I said with a nervous laugh.

He chuckled. “Yes, Arbela. That woman has a certain fire about her. Oh—” He held out his arm. “This is my son, Lenik.”

A tall, young man who looked like a younger version of his father stepped forward. He had facial hair that was far better kept than that of his father and some of the others. His dark hair came to his shoulders in subtle waves. His eyes were green, which I found didn’t suit his appearance. 

“Lenik is the crown prince of Gildorn,” said my father. 

He nodded to me and extended his hand. The ring on his finger made the man’s title apparent. My father hadn’t even bothered to give me the crown prince’s ring for Thaloria.

I shook it. “It’s good to meet you, Your Grace.”

Lenik chuckled to himself. “Your grace? Don’t we bear the same title?”

“I… Well, I…” I swallowed hard. 

Of course, he had to make this awkward—another first impression ruined by a mortal.