"Come today to stand before the throne to be presented is one of our own," he said. "She was raised in our land, educated in our land, and will forever be part of our land. Her Presenting today signals acceptance of the traditions and values of Byern. Such a step represents her desire to be part of the everyday improvement of our land. Acceptance of her Selecting requires responsibility and adherence to the foundation of Byern principles."

Cyrene's head swam. She was agreeing to be presented and selected, no matter the consequences. No matter if she was placed in the Third Cla.s.s. This would decide her entire future, and her heart constricted painfully as possibilities flooded her conscious.

"Today, I Present Cyrene Sera Strohm, daughter of Hamidon and Herlana; sister to our own devoted member of the High Order, Reeve; and our trusted Affiliate, Aralyn. We shall begin the Presenting now."

King Edric took a step toward her, and her blue eyes met his. An electric shock shot through her at his nearness. For a moment, while locked in the King's gaze, all she saw was the here and now. There was neither time nor distance between them. It was just a pull as if they would be tethered together from this point on.

King Edric jerked back a step and shook his head, pulling her out of the trance that had come over her. What just happened?

His Adam's apple bobbed as he pulled himself back together. Then, he spoke softly for her ears only, "Cyrene."

She silently cursed and dropped her gaze to the polished floor. What am I doing? She wasn't even supposed to directly look at him yet.

"You may look at me."

Surprised, Cyrene did as commanded. She didn't understand what had pa.s.sed between them, but looking at him made something within her fall into place.

"Miss Strohm, I stand here as your King, willing to select you into a proper position within the Byern community. Are you prepared to do your duty?"

Her lips quirked up into a haughty smirk. "Yes, My King."

King Edric paused, eyeing her mouth. "Do you always wear that smirk?"

She tried to tamp down the expression on her face, but she didn't seem to be able to. "Yes, My King."

His blue-gray eyes narrowed, and her heart thumped. Why can't I keep a lid on my att.i.tude today of all days?

"Every Cla.s.s performs fundamental tasks for the improvement of Byern. Are you aware of the three Cla.s.s tasks?" He returned to the Presenting dialogue.

"The Guardians, Auxiliaries, and Essentials," she said, giving the formal names for the three Cla.s.ses, "perform vital tasks to improve Byern. Guardians keep the system functional. Auxiliaries offer protection. The Essentials see to the daily needs of the many."

"And why are the Cla.s.ses necessary?"

Cyrene responded as if she were reading straight from a script but with more conviction than she had ever felt before, "To maintain peace and prosperity. After Viktor Dremylon freed our people from the Doma overlord, he founded the Cla.s.s system to utilize the benefits of all his citizens."

"Have you any skills necessary for acceptance into one of these three Cla.s.ses?"

Cyrene knew she was supposed to admit that the skills she had learned would be sufficient for any Cla.s.s, that no talents dominated one Cla.s.s over another, yet the words were stuck on her tongue like a lie. She did have talents that would be more useful for the First Cla.s.s, and she couldn't stand before her own King and tell him that she did not, no matter how much training she had been given to say otherwise. Staring up into his face, she felt compelled to offer him the truth even if she knew that she should not.

"Yes, My King."

King Edric c.o.c.ked his head to the side. The silence between them stretched and felt weighted with her indiscretion. She bit her lip, and the stress of the afternoon pressed in on her. Did I just ruin my chance at the First Cla.s.s?

"Well, what are your skills?" King Edric demanded.

"My sister says I can predict the weather."

"As can most witches."

Cyrene looked up at him under her full black lashes. "I don't believe I like your accusation," she murmured in a near whisper, "My King."

"My apologies."

The King of Byern had just apologized to her.

Her breathing was heavy as she forced herself to keep going. "Of course, it's not possible to predict the weather, but I believe I have more determination and will than you might find in a hundred people. I will fight for my kingdom until my last breath." Her voice was hoa.r.s.e with emotion.

"A loyal subject."

"Byern's most loyal subject."

"And as Byern's most loyal subject, you would use this determination and will as instructed?"

"Yes, of course, My King."

"Do you always wear this shade of red? Few wear such a daring color in my court."

Much of her family had said as much. Soft colors were always in fashion, but Cyrene was not soft. She had never cared about how it would look if she wore red until the moment she was standing before the King.

"Do you like it?" she couldn't help asking.

After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, my lady. It seems it is not just your clothing that is daring." He did not seem displeased. "Once you are selected, you will be announced to your Receiver and placed in his or her charge for proper training. Do you accept the circ.u.mstances of your Selecting?"

"However I am fit and however I am able," she breathed. She had never meant the words more than when she was speaking them to King Edric. She felt an electric tug when she delivered the words.

He quickly stepped away, and she wondered if he'd felt it, too.

"You may proceed, Miss Strohm."

Cyrene faced her audience with a million thoughts running through her mind. How did that conversation go so far off course? And why would I give anything to speak to the King one more time?

She pushed her thoughts away from King Edric and continued with her Presenting ceremony.

"The Royal Court of Byern, I have taken the Oath of Acceptance, tying myself to my Selecting, to my Receiver, and to the land. I trust in the decision of the court to utilize my services to the best of their abilities for the people of Byern. I, Cyrene Sera Strohm, daughter of Hamidon and Herlana, fully present myself on the day of my seventeenth birthday to shirk the immaturity of my youth and take on the responsibility of my adulthood."

Cyrene dipped into another low curtsy.

"Miss Strohm, you may return to your anteroom until you are received for Selecting," King Edric announced.

"Thank you," she said before walking back the way she had come.

Soft murmurs sounded all around her, but she couldn't hear anything that was said. Her head was abuzz with her conversation with the King and the pull that made her want to turn around and go back.

A member of the Royal Guard opened the door to her waiting room. She ducked inside and breathed out a huge sigh of relief. She had successfully been presented to the Royal Court.

It was over, yet it had just begun.

Cyrene stumbled toward a divan covered in a mountain of throw pillows and collapsed on top of the heap. Her body sank into the padded plush seat as she crumpled from exhaustion. For so long, she had been antic.i.p.ating her Presenting. She could hardly believe it was over. Her fate was out of her hands now.

She buried her face into the pillows. Her body was shaking from shock. I just spoke to the King of Byern as if he were a common suitor! She didn't care how handsome he was. And he was very handsome. It was not proper to flirt with the King, and it was certainly not proper to reprimand him for his tone, yet she hadn't been able to stop herself.

She felt drawn to him in some inexplicable way. And she was almost positive it had affected him, too. Why else would he have responded to me in such a manner? It hardly fit with her vision of the King of Byern.

Just as her frustration about the Presenting ceremony was about to become unbearable, the far door pried open. Cyrene rushed to the door, expecting to be ushered out of the room by a castle official. Instead, a tall figure walked inside.

"Reeve," she said aghast, "what are you doing here? Aralyn said I'm not supposed to have any visitors."

"I know, Cyrene." Her brother crossed his arms over his chest.

"Then, what are you doing here?" She stomach knotted.

"I came at the request of King Edric to inform you that he needs a longer period of deliberation before your Selecting."

"What?" she nearly shrieked. "Why would he need more time?"

"Your tone, Cyrene."

"It's just you. It's not like he can hear me," she grumbled.

"If King Edric wants more time, then he is perfectly ent.i.tled to it even if it is slightly unconventional."

"Slightly unconventional? Have you ever heard of this happening?"

Reeve sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. "No, I haven't. I don't know what the King could possibly be considering. Do you?"

"No." She shifted on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet.

"What did you and King Edric talk about when you were standing before him?" He narrowed his eyes as if he already knew she had done something wrong.

"Nothing. We went through the questions and the Oath of Acceptance. That's all," she lied, defiantly crossing her arms.

"It took longer than it should have."

"What are you still doing here, Reeve?" She turned away from him and strolled over to the mahogany table. "You've delivered your message."

Reeve cursed under his breath. "What have you done, Cyrene? Don't you know how serious this is?" He strode toward her. "Your life hangs in the balance."

She whirled around. "I am not going to die for bantering with the King."

He hissed through his teeth. "You bantered with him in the middle of your Presenting?"

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Yes. He went off script, and I followed his lead."

"Off script? You think it was right to go off script for something you have been preparing for your entire life? A script every single person of age recites?"

The last thing Cyrene wanted to do was give in to this line of reasoning. Otherwise, she might legitimately have a breakdown right then and there.

"Yes," she finally answered him.

"And you think this has nothing to do with his extended deliberation?"

"It...could."

Reeve paced the room once before looking back at her. "What did you two discuss?"

Cyrene shrugged. "I told him I was a loyal Byern subject, and he commented that he liked my dress, but no one wore red in his court."

"He commented on your dress?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes."

He rubbed his chin. "And that was all?"

She nodded.

"That doesn't sound too damaging," he admitted.

"Are you finished?"

"Cyrene," he said soothingly, "you know I'm just worried about you."

"Well, don't. You have as much control over what happens as I do." As much as she wanted her brother to comfort her, she couldn't let herself show weakness. She still had to get through her Selecting in one piece.

"High Order Strohm," a royal official called into the room, "you are needed at your seat."

Reeve moved to give Cyrene a hug, but she backed away from him. Reeve's face hardened before he exited the room, leaving her all alone once more. Her body heaved. She hated acting like that to Reeve, but she did not want him to know how terrified she was.

After another thirty minutes, the door finally opened once more.

"Miss Strohm, the King has come to a decision. He is ready for you."

Cyrene briskly exited the room and walked across the marble floors. The King had made her wait nearly three times as long as any other presented individual, and she was ready to get this over with. She stalked up the front steps to the platform and nearly forgot to bob her curtsy. At the last second, she politely dipped down.

King Edric gestured for her to stand. "Cyrene Sera Strohm, you have been presented before the Royal Court of Byern and have taken the Oath of Acceptance to fulfill your duties to your land. Under deliberation with Queen Kaliana and Consort Daufina, I have come to a decision regarding your Selection."

Cyrene gulped, nervously wringing her hands in front of her. She glanced left into the pale blue eyes of Queen Kaliana, who looked none too pleased, and then right into the hooded eyes of Consort Daufina, who was practically glowing. Cyrene did not understand either response.

"It has been decided that you will be selected into the Guardian First Cla.s.s."

Cyrene's heart leaped with joy. First Cla.s.s!

The King rose from his throne and walked to Cyrene. "Your Receiver will be Queen Kaliana."

Cyrene's mouth dropped open in utter shock.

"And from this day forth, you shall be known as the Queen's Affiliate."

The applause from the court was deafening as people stood and cheered for their newest Affiliate. The honor was so rare and the position so coveted that no one in the court had antic.i.p.ated it. In two years, only three girls-including Cyrene's sister-had been placed in the position.