3 Works in The Alliance Trilogy - E. Jade Lomax
On his fifteenth birthday the crown prince was told a prophecy, or maybe more of a curse: "your son will steal your throne, your nation will become prosperous and fair, but not under your leadership"
28 Nov 2016
The water is still, composed; Lia is always envious. She startles when Marie takes a step away from her and says, “You danced with every last man at the ball. How about one last one for me?”
Lia laughs, confused. “Marie, you’re not a nobleman.”
“No,” she says, “But I still deserve a good-bye.”
They dance on the wide green-grey flagstones, a slow three step. Marie leads. Over the eastern palace wall, the sun begins to rise on Lia’s wedding day.
There is little more to that story: Marie drops her hand. There are dresses and hair and face painting; wicked little jokes to make the hours bearable (Marie is her maid of honor, because of course); an aisle; a ring; a kiss; a Courtly cheer.
There is a lot more to that story: Dereck is Crown Prince of Neria, but the thing that puts the biggest light in his eyes seems to be the way Lia looks over her shoulder at him, as they move to the dance room, and smiles an invitation.
There is more: the way Marie looks at her, cheery and happy for her and proud, like she means it, and she does, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t go back to her room, that night, and do all that drinking she hadn’t done the night before.
She never forgets the day she tries on the armour.
It’s too big. Of course it is. She bets she looks like a child playing dress-up. And it’s far from comfortable; she’s worn layers upon layers of useless fabric in some of her fancy dresses, but this weighs her down in a different way.
And yet. The heaviness and discomfort should make her feel ill at ease, she thinks. That would be the normal reaction.
Sasha swallows, her throat tight. She’s never been very good at normal.
And she’s never felt more at home in her life.