Chapter 1 STEP 1: BE HIS BLOOD SERVANT
CHAPTER ONE
VIOLET
I was whistling again.
My mother's song. The one she hummed every Sunday morning while her fingers worked through my hair. I never learned the words. I just carried the melody without meaning to, and it came out of me now while I crouched between the herb rows, pulling weeds that had absolutely no business growing back this fast.
I yanked one out by the root and tossed it.
"How long am I going to keep doing this," I muttered to myself. I cleared this and in a week's time, they were already back.
I reached for the next one.
"Violet! Violet!"
I stopped and straightened.
Mira came crashing through the gate like something was chasing her, wrapper half-tied, hair all over the place, waving a piece of paper in the air with a grin so wide it looked painful.
I pulled off my gloves and shot her a glare. "Why are you screaming my name like a mad woman?
She stuck her tongue out at me and shoved the paper into my hand giving me this expression that says she already knows what would come out next.
Regardless, I said, "So you're screaming my name because of a notice?" A deep frown settled on my face as I looked at her again. "Do you want to give me a heart attack?"
"Stop nagging." She waved me off. "You're too young for that. Just read the damn thing."
I hissed and looked down.
BY ORDER OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, CROWN PRINCE CASPIAN VAEL OF VALDRIS
The Royal Household hereby invites eligible female candidates to present themselves for the position of Royal Blood Servant to the Crown.
Requirements: Female. Ages eighteen to twenty-five in good health and no criminal record.
Successful candidates will receive full palace accommodation, a monthly stipend of forty gold marks, and full Valdris citizenship upon honourable completion of a three-year term of service.
Candidates must present themselves at the Valdris Selection Hall no later than three weeks from the date of this notice. Late entries will not be considered.
By order of the Crown.
I read it and looked up at Mira. She was standing there with her arms folded, wearing that expressionless face she put on when she had already made up her mind about something.
I dropped the notice on the ground and turned back to my weeding.
"Violet."
I crouched down and got my fingers around the next weed.
"Violet!" Her voice jumped an octave sending shivers down my spine, "You just read it and threw it on the floor. Are you not going to say anything?"
"What is there to say?" I spat out, my eyes flashing in the anger that's beginning to course through my skin — at her disturbing me at a very important work
"What is there to—" She let out a short laugh and spread out her arms vaguely in the air like she couldn't believe for a second that I'd said those words. "This is what we have been waiting for. Three years, Violet. Three fucking years on this farm, and you read it and drop it like it's nothing?"
"It could be a trap." I pulled the weed free. "You know he hasn't stopped looking for us."
"Even if it's a trap." She crouched down to my level and shook me gently. "We're also a trap."
I looked at her for a moment. Then I looked back at the garden. "Come help me finish this so we can talk properly."
She groaned out loud. "I just came back from the market. My feet are dying. Can we not sit inside like normal people?"
"Help me weed, Mira."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
She grumbled something I didn't ask her to repeat and dropped down two rows over.
We worked without talking, just the sound of roots pulling free from soil between us, and the occasional curse from Mira when a stubborn one wouldn't budge.
By the time we went inside and sat at the kitchen table with the notice flat between us, she already had a pen out and was writing in the margins.
We talked until the light outside went grey.
By morning it was settled.
I would go in as Violet Ashan. Tharyn farm girl with a domestic background, no political history, and nothing worth a second look. Get inside the palace, get close to Caspian Vael, and end it.
Mira would come with me as far as the Valdris border and find work near the palace. Close and safe enough to be my outside contact.
We agreed on a code before we slept. Something short and would mean nothing to the wrong person and everything to her.
Her exit point, if it came to that.
They left the next morning before the people in the farm house woke up.
Forty-three women showed up to the Valdris Selection Hall.
I counted them while I waited to register.
The testing ran two days.
Blood compatibility first. A palace physician read my magical signature with instruments I recognized from my mother's old medical texts. I held still and let him work. I was compatible. I had suspected I would be.
Physical assessment next. Health, basic capability, no obvious liabilities. I passed without strain.
Last was the interview. A court official with careful eyes asking careful questions about my background, work history and reasons for applying. I answered everything as Violet Ashan.
He thanked me for my time.
They told us to check the board inside the palace gate first thing in the morning.
It was the first thing I did.
There were six names printed neatly on a single sheet pinned to the board. I scanned from the top.
Mine was third.
I read it once, stepped back, and walked away.
They processed us that afternoon.
Six chairs, six contracts laid out on a long table, a court official at the head of it explaining terms in a flat tone that made it clear he had done this too many times to find it interesting.
I moved through the document at my own pace. They consisted of standard terms, palace conduct, feeding protocols. I skimmed until I found the section I was looking for and slowed down.
The appointed servant agrees to remain in exclusive service to His Royal Highness for a period of no less than three years, during which time said servant shall be considered under the full legal guardianship of the Valdris crown.
Three years.
A small sound left me. The woman sitting next to me glanced over. I picked up the pen and signed my name.
After the contracts came the marks.
A cauldron pot sat at the end of the table, something dark and metallic simmering inside it, and one by one we stepped forward and held out our left wrist. The mark came fast.... a small precise sigil pressed into the inside of the wrist.
I felt the magic settle into my skin like a lock clicking shut.
I pulled my sleeve down and went back to my seat.
The court official went through the terms again. I sat with my hands in my lap and listened to every word.
The prince wasn't there that first week.
I hadn't expected him to be. Blood servant processing was handled by court staff, and I used every hour of that week to study the palace.
On the sixth evening I found paper and a pen in the small desk in the servants' quarters. I sat down and wrote a short letter to Mira.
At the bottom I wrote six letters.
IMNABS.
I folded it, sealed it, walked to the mail box at the end of the corridor, and slipped it through the slot. Then I turned and started back toward the servants' quarters.
I had barely made it halfway down the corridor when someone grabbed my arm.
I turned.
A woman stood beside me, slightly out of breath, her sharp eyes immediately raking over my form.
"Where have you been?" She asked calmly even though her tone had an edge to it. "I have been looking everywhere for you."
"I'm sorry, I was just—"
"You are a blood servant." She cut me off sharply. "That means you stay where we can find you. You don't wander the palace on your own. Do you understand?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
She studied my face for a moment. Then she let out a short breath.
"The prince has sent for you."
I gave a slight nod. "Alright."
I moved to step forward but her grip on my arm tightened and she held me still.
"Listen to me carefully." Her voice dropped lower and her tone shifted to something dangerous. "You'll go into his study office and behave yourself. If you dare they anything stupid with the prince—"
She glared at me with an intensity that screamed hate. "— I will take great pleasure in punishing you.”
