Since Esmera was abandoned on a stranger's doorstep as a baby, the only person who has looked out for her is herself.
Until a lark starts visiting her, leaving behind exotic flowers and iridescent pebbles that the internet doesn't recognise.
Esmera...
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Tauram swirled his chopsticks in the sesame yellow sauce as he chewed and swallowed. "Well, you were a very cute baby."
So unexpected was his explanation that Esmera lost her concentration and dropped her dumpling in the pickle bowl. Flecks of oil scattered outwards, but extended only to her plate, thankfully, not Princess Namesha's priceless parsi or Tauram's priceless tablecloth. Her cheeks warmed as she took a moment to regain her grip on her dumpling.
Once it was securely between her chopsticks, she pulled a face at Tauram. "Don't make this weird."
"It's hurtful that you find it weird that I thought you were cute. I would just take the compliment."
Esmera might've thought she offended Tauram if she didn't see the glimmer of mirth in his dark eyes.
He was shameless, and Esmera shouldn't be at all amused by it.
"Tauram." Esmera flattened her mouth against the smile teasing at it. "I know you weren't the one who arranged our marriage."
Esmera didn't know much about being noble or royal, but she did know that for all their privilege, for all the choices their statuses provided them, their lives didn't entirely belong to them.
"Fine, fine. You're right. It wasn't my decision." Solemnity replaced the light-heartedness on Tauram's face. "On the day of your birth, all the psychics in the palace were buzzing with whispers that the queen had been born. Naturally, my parents were bewildered. My mother was the queen, and I was to be king after her. They had no idea who this mysterious new queen was or how she fit into the line of succession. She could be any baby across the kingdom."
He paused, dipping his dumpling in the pickle and raising it to his mouth, interrupting the story that had so enraptured Esmera.
But it was more than a story. It was the tale of them.
Tauram continued speaking once he had swallowed his momo. "My parents summoned their most senior psychic. She told them the prophecy spoke of Lord and Lady Finnaz's daughter." The prince popped another dumpling into his mouth.
Esmera took advantage of the break in the conversation to try the pickle for herself. The spice stung her tongue and sent her eyes watering, but this time, when she closed them, she heard voices more than she tasted flavours.
Apparently, Queen Shirisha fears Esmera might overthrow Prince Tauram after he takes the throne, said a man's voice that was painfully familiar to Esmera even though she couldn't name who it belonged to.
Nonsense. Our beautiful little Esmera? asked a woman. She can only steal hearts, never thrones. Look at her tiny hands, Hudion, and her little cheeks.
This voice Esmera knew on instinct.
She craved the sound so fiercely that she latched onto it with every fibre of her being, every particle of her power.
