“Watch your left,” I mutter under my breath as Griggory expertly disarms an opponent with his signature move. The young man looks at his fallen sword with disbelief and concedes the sparring match.

Griggory, captain of the guard, may be the best swordsman in my father’s staff, but he is predictable. If the new one had paid attention to the previous sparring match, he would’ve noticed the small flinch the captain took when stepping back, like his foot pained him. My guess would be a pebble in the shoe.

I see Griggory take off his shoe and fish out a small pebble before I turn away. Maybe a little smug, I turn and begin to get ready. The tea on my nightstand is a shade too dark, but I don’t mind as I add a splash of milk and carry it to the vanity. Louisa has been a bit distracted lately, likely due to her frequent trips to the stables and a stable boy Peder, so I forgive her lapse in steeping time. I’m glad someone has the freedom to fall in love.

I shouldn’t complain. The confinement to the tower is meant for my safety, after all. What with King Verzol’s troops nearing the border and the troll wars before that, we have not had a moment of peace in decades. Even before my mother’s death my father, King Wesley, had strict curfews I and my brothers had to follow. I used to race Stella, my horse, with them from the early hours of daylight until we were chased back into the grounds by Griggory to begin our studies.

Now that Anders has left to marry princess Sophie in Culdona, my list of visitors grows thin. Not that it was ever lengthy to begin with. After all, playing in a castle tower tends to lose its excitement once become an adult. Much before that, really.

My unruly hair refuses the comb before I give up and begin braiding. Frustrated, with my hair and my life, I groan and brace my head on the table as my stepmother, Queen Aura, breezes in.

“You’re not dressed yet? Hurry, Lisbeth, your father is waiting,” she says as she bustles into the closet and pulls out a dress for me. “Louisa!”

Queen Aura makes no further comment as she leaves the room, as quickly as she arrived. I don’t blink at the interruption, or the speed with which I am abandoned yet again. Aura is not one for heart to hearts.

Louisa brings me the dress her highness selected, lilac and silk and form-fitting and altogether overdressed for a dinner with any menial lord.

“No, let’s do this one,” I say, grabbing my favorite pale blue dress from the closet. Simple and comfortable, but surprisingly elegant, it is the only company-appropriate clothing I would choose to replace my typical blouse and riding pants ensemble.

Louisa gives me a look and walks into the bedroom with the lilac dress. With no expectation to win this argument when it risks only her, I obediently follow and she helps me into the dress.

“What is this about?” I ask. Louisa might not have my stepmother’s ear, but the servants are always the first to know things. Especially the things they are not supposed to know.

Looking anywhere but into my eyes, Louisa gives a noncommittal noise. Oh, she definitely knows something.

I wait, looking at her expectantly as I step into my heels. Finally, as she evaluates my appearance and brushes off an invisible spec of lint and smooths an invisible wrinkle in the skirt, she looks up.

“Prince Reywin is here to finalize his marriage contract,” Louisa says hesitantly, “To you.”

Stunned, I cannot speak as she holds the door open for me. Prince Reywin, son to King Verzol, is one of the most hated men in the continent. By all accounts he is handsome, cruel, and entirely too used to getting everything he wants. A docile, naive princess trapped in a tower seems exactly the type of woman he would want to marry.

I am not my father’s bargaining chip in his most recent power play-turned-war. I am not a damsel in distress waiting to be saved from her tower. In fact, I decide, as I follow her down the stairs and out of my tower, I plan to save myself. Tonight.