Crown of Thorns

Prologue

Atlantis Palace, Day O

Responsibility is difficult for everyone. Why should I be lucky enough to be an exception to the rule? Responsibility meant taking on the weight of whatever must be taken on, ready or not. Was I ready? I didn't think I'd ever know. At least not with the certainty that I knew my heart was pounding in my chest, as if it would leap out and dive into the ocean outside my window.

I smoothed my dress: a glistening blue fabric that resembled the scales of a fish. As I stood, I struggled to repress the fear that coursed through me.

I'm not ready.

No, I needed to be. I'd been preparing. My parents raised me for this, and it was time. They'd be proud of me. I could make them proud. I needed to. I couldn't bear to disappoint them.

"Are you ready, my lady?" asked Lyolla, a young maid with golden skin and curly black hair. She straightened the gold seashell necklace that rested on my slightly exposed chest.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, finding that my voice carried a strange squeak, like a strangled gull.

"You'll do wonderfully, your majesty," she assured. Her teal eyes sparkled, identical to mine, as well as anyone whose family had spent generations in Atlantis. "Remember the speech you've prepared?"

"I've had it memorized for days." I chuckled as if to ward off the nerves creeping along my neck. Just because I knew the words I'd so lovingly written didn't mean I wouldn't freeze up and forget.

"You'll be perfect," said a new voice, deep and warm.

I turned with a rush of relief upon hearing Cyprian, his blue palace guard's uniform sparkling in the fading light. He'd been my friend since childhood.

Mother had even considered him to be my betrothed, but Father disapproved because Cyprian Marsoine wasn't of noble birth. It might have caused some awkwardness between us had it not become a facet of our relationship. We thought back to it with laughs from time to time, but little more. It was nothing but a fleeting comment Mother had made when she saw how close we were.

"Cyp," I murmured, walking towards him and placing my hand on his shoulder. I was thankful he'd visited me at all, but this was Cyprian. He wouldn't turn his back on me no matter what. "What if I make a mistake? My parents passed away just a year ago... I didn't have enough time to prepare..." The year since their deaths had been a day in my eyes. One blink, and my world was ripped a part. Another blink, and it was up to me to stitch it together. Even if I had another life time, I wouldn't be prepared.

"Circe." Cyprian was one of the only people to call me by my given name rather than your highness. "When Atlantis needed a princess, you were there. Now it needs a queen, and you'll be there just the same."

My lips curved into an easy smile as I met Cyprian's warm gaze. His dark eyes smoldered with pride—pride for me. Cyp was one of the only people in Atlantis with dark eyes. He wasn't from our small island. As a child, his father, a traveling merchant, brought Cyprian and several other sons to the city, making a large sale of rare fruits that didn't grow anywhere near Atlantis.

I could still remember sharing the small red berries with my mother. Cherries, they'd been called. They were a sweet, juicy memory from childhood I clung to. It was also the memory in which Cyprian stumbled into my life.

After being paid a grand sum of money for the cherries, Cyprian's father and brothers had left. Either by accident or intentionally, Cyp had been left behind.

Although I knew Cyprian sometimes questioned why he'd been abandoned, he grew up happy, taken into the palace guard as a child. His story spread through the community, and it became a joint effort to care for the little boy. Cyp was easy to spot: his brown eyes and pale skin made him exotic.