AUTHOR NOTE

Hi there! This is the prequel to Shadow Weaver from the point of view of Prince Jakut the year before he met Mirra. Many of you have had questions that weren't fully answered by the end of Shadow Weaver. They will be answered here.

You might have noticed this is "Ruby Prince" and not "Red Prince". I will eventually be making the change in Shadow Weaver but all you need to know for now is the Ruby Court is the Red Court. Ruby Palace = Red Palace etc.

I'll usually be posting updates on Fridays. For those of you who have been waiting for a sequel to Shadow Weaver, I hope this will help fill the hole.

RUBY PRINCE is dedicated to all my SHADOW WEAVER fans who inspire me even when it seems all hope to write another word is lost. I love you guys xx

P.S. UK spelling and grammar. ALL feedback welcome, especially grammar and spelling pointers and anything that needs clarifying or more explanation... Thanks!

CHAPTER 1

All the way up the great terraces of the hillside, white flags fluttered from sticks and roofs of the city's ochre tinted houses. My father's people mourned the loss of the stillborn Princess as though she were their own. I gazed down the valley, the snap and rustle of drapes filling my ears like a fleet of ships' sails, and wondered if the Carucans had mourned my mother and sister in the same way, thirteen years ago. I was four at the time, but I had no memory of a ceremony.

Queen Usas, unlike my mother, did not succumb to the bloody exploits of an unsuccessful childbirth. Of course she did not. She was Tmán, raised a warrior and skilled in combat and battle strategy. I imagined that within hours of her ordeal, her maids cleaned and washed her and she joined my father in the council assembly, ready to discuss politics and trade.

From my balcony, I could see the red sun rolling on the horizon. Men and women left the toil of their terraces and wound up the hillside. Soldiers guarded the palace entrance, forming two lines around the ceremonial square which opened to the city only for the festivals of the seasons and special ceremonies.

My half-sister's body lay wrapped in white and raised on a pyre. Each time my eyes fell on the tiny form, a lump formed in my throat. The circle of light surrounding her had grown deep in the last hour and grew deeper as mourners added their candles. My father and Usas were seated on their stone thrones overlooking the pyre. Their white robes drifted around their feet and occasionally I glimpsed a hand or an arm. It was the most I had seen of either of them in over two weeks. But the time had come. My presence, though not desired, was expected. I could put off joining them no longer. I straightened the silk sash around my waist, adjusted my sword and donning my most impenetrable expression strode out of my chambers.

I wove through the exotic royal gardens -- spiky plants, bright red and purple blooms that grew ferociously and had to be cut back daily - to the grassy expanse of the enormous square. Soldiers guarding the perimeter of the royal gardens and palace moved aside. Captain Resnit marched forwards to escort me across the wooden bridge which arched over the throng, linking the gardens with the pyre, the thrones and the noble's seats. I dodged his approach, launching into the crowds, avoiding his glare but more importantly, the probing eyes of the court.

The white sea of mourners who'd already lain their candles, waited in subdued respect. But whispers of my approach quickly slithered through them. In moments they had pulled back like a stage curtain. Linx, my sparring partner elbowed his way from the segregated seating area towards me. His lithe, muscular figure moved with confidence. A genuine smile lightened my lips as I took in a new scar across his chin. The messy stitching made me think he must have sabotaged the healer on purpose. My friend was obsessed with ridding himself of his pretty boy face, admired and sought after by both sexes of all ages. He slapped me on the shoulder, pulling me against him in affection.

'Brother,' he said, 'I missed you at training. I don't know how you've stayed cooped up for so long. You will be too fat and lazy for the tournament.' We had been in royal military training program together since we were eight. At the end of the summer, those of seventeen years and older could put themselves forward for the King's grand tournament. Pitted against young nobles from forts and cities across the Kingdom, only the top five would be accepted into the army's elite core. I had wanted nothing else for years. I had spent the last four days in a small southern quarter of town, acquainting myself with the less noble street fighting arts we were not taught at court.

'It is good to see you Linx.'

'And where is the mysterious girl who has been detaining you?'

I smiled tightly. Even Linx believed the rumour.

'She is indisposed,' I said.

He grinned and then perhaps remembering we were at my sister's funeral, frowned. I moved toward the candle lit passage that led to the inner circle of light beneath my sister's pyre. The captain caught up with me.

'You might not care for your own security, your highness,' he snapped at my back, 'but I am assigned to protect you. If you do that to me again, I will inform your father.'

He was not talking about my giving him the slip just now. The fury in his eyes told me he knew: I had not been sequestered in my chambers for days, on the pretence of mourning my stillborn sister while making the most of resting in bed with some mistress I had scraped up from nowhere. He knew I had absconded the palace without a guard. No doubt his anger was in part because he had no idea how I had gotten out without anyone noticing. Or where I had been.

I stepped forward, laid the wick of my candle against the burning dish of flame at the entrance to the inner circle, and arced around the pyre in the slow, ceremonial walk, to place my offering. Then I turned and bowed to my father and his wife, one hand on my sword, one on my heart in our people's sign of respect. Perhaps they were too far away, because for once, I could not feel the burn of their eyes upon me. I glanced up. Shock cracked my hardened mask and left a metallic taste in my mouth. My father was looking in my direction but his gaze was glazed as though he did not see me. My step-mother's narrow face was pale, her eyes swollen and red. I looked down again quickly. Their grief shattered my hard-trained indifference. It hurt more than any dismissal of my father, any slight, any jibe about the weak stock of my mother's Rudashean blood-line. It made them human.

I walked unsteadily towards the sequestered area behind the thrones, where forty or fifty nobles awaited the ceremony. Eyes locked forward as the Rhag priests took their places, north, south, east and west of the pyre, I did not let my gaze fall on anyone else until the song of light had been sung, the pyre lit, and I was getting ready to make a swift departure.

The moment I raised my head, my eyes fell on a girl I'd never seen before, though she was around my age and stood with two others I recognised from the royal court. At the same moment, her gaze swept my father's throne, landing on me with intent as an arrow to a target. Her dark hair parted straight down either side of a perfectly oval face. Her large lips, creamy skin and nose were flawless, but it was her turquoise eyes that made me catch my breath. They were exquisite. And as stunning as they were, they were equally cold and removed. About her, ladies snivelled and dabbed tears with handkerchiefs, but she did not twitch a muscle. Her blank expression met mine. A shiver ran up my spine. It had been my goal to appear impenetrable, but seeing such a mirror I knew it would be better to be thought weak, selfish, or gloating over my sister's death. Anything but such hard indifference.

'Lady Calmi,' Linx whispered in my ear, his gaze also trained on the girl. 'You might remember me mentioning her several weeks ago,' he added with an edge of sarcasm.

A vague memory of Linx arriving at training practice with stories of a stunning young woman moving into the palace, skimmed through my mind. For several days, he'd schemed on ways to use his pretty face and uncontested charm to seduce her, and then abruptly, I heard nothing more. I had barely registered when he stopped speaking of her. I'd just been relieved by his silence.

'If you ever agreed to spend time at the court,' Linx continued, 'you would have been introduced some time ago. But I can assure you, brother, it is nothing to fret over. She is untouchable. '

I tore my eyes from her penetrating look and settled them on the pyre flames, now licking ferociously towards the golden red sky. Voluntarily, I allowed some of the strain and anxiety I bore, ripple into my muscles and posture. I would not leave early, after all. I cared not if the gossips claimed I was gloating. I no longer hoped to insult my father or ruffle his pride. My sister's soul was departing and I wished only to show her respect.