A Fair Account of the Traitors Snow White and Rose Red

The Favored Flower

Kage raises a finger before grabbing the last scone off my plate and devouring it in a single bite. "Mmm, you're absolutely right, Princess," he mumbles. "I trust that you will remember that more than little Albemar's fate rests on the success of tonight's festivities." He licks the honey off his fingers and I decide I hate scones. "It would not do for the favored flower of the Green Guild to disappoint the imperial heir of Sareval—it would not do at all."

For a moment, I contemplate seizing the empty plate and smashing it on top of his shiny new wig. How dare this stupid peacock preach to me about my duty! I've always borne the burden of being the princess of two houses: Albemar's royal Leonesse line through my father and the unofficial "emerald royalty" of the Green Guild's founding family, the Felgardes, through my mother. The Felgarde family founded the Green Guild three centuries ago to unite the Kingdom Isles in trade, but now they've been reduced to little more than figureheads and the guild has become no better than a den of bribe-ridden thieves. To disgrace either would be disastrous. The knowledge that my position compels me to obey this toad roils me with a constant storm of frustration.

But since Prince Faylen isn't here just yet . . . .

On impulse, I grab the kerchief from Kage's breast pocket and scrub the honey stain from my face. Then I crumple the fine scarlet silk into a wad and it shove back into his pocket with a firm pat. "Don't trouble your pretty little head on my account, Prime Minister. But perhaps you should take care to remember that flowers often come with thorns—especially roses."

Kage intends to say something disagreeable, I can tell by the sneer creeping into his lips. But he never gets the chance. The harbor bells ring out below and I whirl around to face the sea. A legion of black sails dot the horizon, great red birds billowing at their center. How did the fleet enter the bay so quickly? So it's true that there are no sea crafts swifter than Sareval's navy!

The massive metal-bound hulls give the ships the appearance of monstrous whales, but they were never meant to be graceful vessels, but strong. Brute enough to survive the corsair fleets and extreme tropic typhoons of the southern waters of the Solarias.

Now that I have seen Sareval's navy fleet with my own eyes, I can well believe Mother's assurance that my marriage to Faylen will seal Albemar's safety forever! If only I could seal my uncertain dread away. I squint as one of the crimson birds seems to detach from the sails and veer towards the balcony.

"Does that foul creature mean to land here?" Kage says incredulously. "What insolence!" He grabs my wrist and pulls me towards the balcony's doors.

I yank my arm free. "Kindly cower by yourself," I snap. Anticipation courses through me; I've never seen a live pyrehawk. The hybrid of phoenix and desert hawk is Sareval's most dreaded weapon and also the most stunning. Each bird possesses flaming feathers that can set an entire nation on fire in an hour and a curved beak that can tear a man's throat out in one plunge. Yet I don't believe this pyrehawk means to slaughter me as it carries a slender bundle in its talons.

I try not to flinch as the heat of the bird hits my face from the downbeat of its wings. Huge golden eyes regard me, and suddenly I lose my crown and kingdom and am reduced to a soft little mouse. The pyrehawk gives a single ear-splitting shriek before dropping the bundle into my hands. Ignoring me completely, it dives straight as an arrow to the harbor below, scattering terrified seagulls in a cinder-streaked path.

I blink away the after-image of embers in my eyes. I can't believe such lethal radiance hovered only inches from my face! It was almost like touching the sun—

I bite back a gasp as a filmy gown unfurls between my hands. I'm expecting something hideously gaudy, but it is actually a rather pleasant green color hemmed in emeralds. But my pleasure sours as Kage grabs a slender scroll that has slipped free from the gown and opens it.

His brow arches. "Ah! The tender games of young love. The Crown Prince of Sareval wishes you a most auspicious birthday and asks that you wear his gift at the betrothal ceremony this evening. It would please him greatly, it seems. You will accept, Princess." His eyes cool.

My fingers dig into the gown and I have to force my hands to relax so that I don't tear the delicate material. One flick of Kage's finger will stop the flow of goods to all Albemar's ports and send my people spiraling into starvation—but I won't let them suffer for my mistakes. For the first time since waking this morning, I find myself relishing that I'm almost done with these weary princess games. The Green Guild's stranglehold on my little kingdom will be broken tonight with a coy green dress and a dance that twines new power into the fraying royal line of Leonesse.

"Of course, Prime Minister." I smile and curtsy deeply as the lowest peasant. Just you wait, old man. When I am Empress . . . I shall make you grand high minister of sewers.

*SONG: "Seeking Loot" by Aaron Spencer