The non-heir stiffened. "Ryiah is not lowborn anymore, and even if she were-"
Blayne ignored him and rattled on: "What you need is a good lay, Darren. I've seen how that redhead looks at you. Tell her whatever she needs to hear and the rest will take care of itself. Then you can get back to what's important. Like your role in this kingdom – or have you been training so long as a mage that you forgot you were also a prince?"
Darren's knuckles on the door's handle whitened. "I know my role," he said shortly, "and where my duties lie. I will report to father within the hour."
"Well, see to it that you do," Blayne snapped. "I can't be the only who takes my role seriously. What Father sees in you I will never know."
A moment later Darren shut the door, as soon as he was sure Blayne had left the hall.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that."
I stepped out of the curtain, sick to my stomach. Even without the knowledge I'd been present Blayne had still managed to make me feel worthless. "Tell her whatever she needs to hear and the rest will take care of itself." His words made me realize how close Darren and I had come to fulfilling his twisted prophecy.
This time when the non-heir took a step toward me, I flinched. Darren's shrewd gaze missed nothing.
"You are upset."
"I-I'm not upset," I stammered. "I j-just didn't think things would h-happen s-so fast."
Fury darkened the prince's face. "I would never ask you to do anything you didn't want to, Ryiah. I'm not my brother. I would never try what he and Ella-"
"I-it's not that." I was stuttering and I knew my cheeks were now as red as my scarlet red locks. "But..."
"But you can't stop thinking about what my brother said."
I couldn't look at him.
A hand entered my vision and tipped my face. Darren's eyes met mine and there was a grim smile. "Blayne's wrong," he promised quietly. "I'm in love with you, Ryiah. Nothing is ever going to change that."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With my best impression of nonchalance, I exited the castle's formal ascension chambers and followed the remaining throng of apprentices into the grand ballroom. Everyone was chattering on in excited voices and even the ornate torches seemed to reflect the evening's enthusiasm, flickering wildly along the hall and dancing off the many-colored windowpanes surrounding it. The orchestra was already playing an upbeat march and the heralds were having particular fun announcing the newly graduated mages to the awaiting crowd of nobility.
As we poured into the brightly lit room I found myself scanning the mass for the one apprentice who had been noticeably absent throughout the entire ceremony. For the past week I had barely slept, tossing and turning, dreaming of that moment Darren finally appeared and put all my fears to rest. Five days had never passed as slowly as they had the past week. I was convinced that mountains moved faster than the sun, which appeared almost stagnant and solely there to test my will.
"Ryiah, don't you want to grab something to drink?"
I started, drawn out of my thoughts by the suddenness of my friend's voice.
"Ella," my twin's voice was filled with irony, "can't you see? She's waiting for him."
I glared at Alex. "You don't need to be so cruel."
My brother made a frustrated noise. "You don't need to be so na?ve either, Ryiah."
"Like all those girls you courted before Ella?" I stood my ground. I would not let his doubt get to me. Not tonight. "Darren's not a hopeless flirt like you!"
"Ry – Alex, stop it!" Ella shoved herself between us to glower at my brother. "Alex, your sister is old enough to make decisions for herself. The least you can do is support her."
My brother stared at her incredulously. "Don't pretend to agree with her, El. You told me last night-"
"It don't matter what we think," she interrupted hastily, "this is about Ryiah and Darren. No one else matters."
I never got to catch my brother's reply. At that very moment the royal herald chose to announce the Crown. My heart instantly caught in my throat and my gaze instantly swerved to the room's entrance.
"King Lucius and his royal highness, Prince Blayne."
The king and his eldest son entered, their icy blue eyes casting out a silent chill as they made their way to the front of the room. They bore matching blood red cloaks and tight-fitted brocade that highlighted their health and the golden thread and gems that lined their heavy, chained fastenings. The room had gone silent the moment they made their approach - although it hardly seemed possible from the heavy pounding in my ears.
I watched as they settled into their chairs, and then I waited.
There was an odd moment where everything was still, and then the herald continued:
"Prince Darren, second-in-line to the throne."
I started to push my way to the front, eager to catch a better glimpse-