Sometimes, when the setting sun hits the farmlands of Covigo just right, it looks like a vast, rippling ocean. The swaying crops are waves. The hum of insects is actually the perpetual sound of the water, moving with the wind and the tides. That bank of trees is the cresting tail of a whale. That hill, far in the distance, is an island.

That's what Rosa tells herself, at least.

She images that her balcony is a boat- that she's leaning against the bow of a grand ship that pirates from almost two centuries ago used to sail- and that the salty sea brine is whipping her in the face. She clutches tightly to the balcony rail, closing her eyes. For a moment, she can taste it. She can feel it. She's there, really there, on the water.

"Will you miss this place?"

Rosa starts, hands jerking away from the rail. Her heart thuds in her chest; she clutches the skin above it, catching her breath right before it runs away from her.

She curtsies, head still spinning. "My apologies, Your Majesty. I didn't know you were behind me."

King Miguel holds up a hand. He's dressed plainly, in a pair of loose-fitting trousers and a button-up shirt, looking more like a young nobleman than a king. "Don't be so formal with me, Rosalinda." He gestures to the rail. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Rosa gulps. "Not at all."

He gives her a small smile and moves to stand beside her at the balcony. He leans over it, back hunching slightly, looking out over the crops that stretch as far as the eye can see.

"I hope I didn't startle you too badly," he says after a while.

"I'm fine, Your Majesty."

"Rosalinda," he prompts.

Her cheeks heat. "What would you like me to call you?"

His green eyes twinkle. "Miguel will do."

"Miguel." She says it quietly to herself, even if it doesn't taste right on her tongue. "Were you hoping for a moment to yourself?"

His head tilts up to savour the breeze. "I was looking for you."

"Why?"

"I thought we might speak."

Her inquiry is soft. "Speak of what?"

"Anything," he replies. "You're... scared of me, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

"I'm not sure if I believe that. You avoid me at mealtimes. Your sisters make more conversation than you do." He leans in, peering at her like she's a curious insect that he might have to step on. "You're not selectively mute, are you?"

She takes a step back. "I'm sorry."

He observes her for a quiet moment before coming closer. The breeze ruffles his clothes and hair. When Rosa takes in a sharp breath, she gets a lungful of his scent: soap and mint. He smells as mild as he looks at first glance.

But Rosa knows better. She can't forget the hunger in his gaze.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he tells her. "I'm not an old lech. I won't force you to do anything you don't want. This..." He pulls at his collar, smiling like a schoolboy. "This arrangement terrifies me, too."

Rosa stares up at him. She's seen portraits of his mother, the late Queen Letizia. The gentle curve of his brow is hers, along with those twinkling green eyes. "Why did you propose it?" she asks.

"Should I put it simply for you?"

She nods.

"The crown is bankrupt."

"Pardon me, Your Ma... Miguel?"

"My father sucked it dry. He spent twenty years squabbling with the Vesennan Empire, and war is expensive, as you must know. Reparations cost money. So do technology and industry." He shrugs. "He left me with close to nothing when he passed."

"I'm sorry," she tells him.

He quirks an eyebrow. "For my situation?"

Rosa nods again. King Miguel laughs at her.

"Don't be. You're going to help me change it all."

"Because my family has money?"

"More than any other House in Edeiros. Agriculture is the one industry that will never cease to be profitable, after all. Your father knows that better than anyone."

"I knew that father signed me off to marry you for some reason or other, but I didn't think..." She trails off, staring at the king. Maybe her father's done her a favour. So many girls her age are married off to old noblemen, the third son of a third son, for nothing more than pumping out children until the end of their days. Love and unconditional devotion doesn't exist for girls like her, but fortune does.

King Miguel inclines his head. "You've figured out why he did it."

Rosa manages a small smile. "Better to be married to a young king than an old Duke."

He observes her for a beat. Then he remarks, "You're just as lovely as Mateo said you'd be."

She swallows and stares forward at her makeshift sea, trying to hide the heat in her cheeks.

"To answer your earlier question," she says, imagining herself on that hill- the island, that is- and looking out at an endless ocean, "I will certainly miss this place."

He follows her gaze. "Yes," he agrees. "I can see why you would. These fields almost look like an ocean from here."

Her lips spread into a grin. "That's how I've always seen it!" she exclaims.

"I was fascinated by the ocean when I was your age. It was always right outside my window, but my brother never let me near it." He shrugs. "He thought I was too fragile. I tried to prove him wrong one day by swimming out into the deep water. I almost drowned."

Rosa corrects her gleeful expression from earlier in favour of something somber. "That's awful."

The king chuckles. "Don't look so serious. I learned my lesson."

Rosa's smile returns. "Have you ever been out on the water since?"

"Many times." He turns to her. "Would you want to come with me someday?"

"Yes! Would you really?" She suddenly remembers all of her etiquette lessons; if her mother were here, she'd get her ears boxed for sure. "That would be ever so kind of you. Would it be possible for you to take me to an island?"

"An island?" he asks. "Why an island?"

"When I visited Migos nine years ago for your nephew's birthday party, I saw the ocean. It was..." She searches for the right word, frowning, but she doesn't think there is one. "It was something," she decides to say. "The starlight was hitting the waves just right. The water was sparkling. I've never seen something so beautiful before. I knew that somewhere in that water was an island. To be on an island, surrounded by water..." She sighs. "That would be wonderful."

King Miguel looks over her for a moment before turning away again. "Have you heard of The Immortal Calls?"

"My governess used to read it to me."

"Then you know about the legend of the island in the sea."

"So does every child in Oritias."

"What do you remember of the book?"

She squints at the horizon, trying to recall the story. "A prince had heard of the island. He..." She squints harder. "He knew that braving all of its dangers and reaching the center would grant him immortality, so he assembled a group of men to accompany him. The problem was, he wanted immortality for all the wrong reasons. He wanted to rule forever."

"And then?" inquires the king.

Rosa gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I remember the rest."

He waves her apology off. "I do. So. The prince who wanted immortality for all the wrong reasons," he says, "reached the island with his ragtag band of mercenaries, serfs, and sailors. He'd promised them all a drink from the wellspring of immortal life, but one of the serfs he'd taken with him overheard the prince telling his squire about his plan to slaughter all of his hired hands. As the legend of the island goes, after all, you trade life to get life." The king looks out at the fields like he's picturing the same thing that Rosa has for so many years. "When they reached the center of the island, the serf revealed the prince's secret plans of murder. After the men tore the prince and his squire to pieces, they tore at each other for a chance at immortality. The serf saw their greed and their corruption and hid, disgusted by what he saw. But in the end, they all ended up killing each other."

"What happened to the serf?"

"He rose and saw the ground, soaked in so much blood. He couldn't help himself; he was as drawn to immortality as the rest of them. He drank from the spring and became immortal, and he swore never to be corrupted. He swore to bring vengeance down on any man who dared to raise himself above others. He swore to remain above it all. Even now, he lives, returning to the island with people to sacrifice to his cause. He seeks the heart of a being not entirely human. Once he has it, he will truly be immortal. He'll never have to return to the island- that place of bloodshed- ever again. He will become humanity's eternal adjudicator."

Rosa grips the rail, leaning back on her heels. "I don't think I'd want to live forever," she admits. "I'd have to watch everyone die."

"Yes," the king murmurs. When did he get so close? "Watching people die is an awful thing."

Hastened footsteps draw the king and Rosa apart. Rosa's father, Mateo, charges onto the balcony. Sweat drips from his forehead as he grabs her, pressing her face into his warm chest. His arms form a protective cocoon around her body.

"Padre?" she questions.

"Miguel," he begins, ignoring Rosa altogether. "The Head Sentinel sent a telegram." There's a rustling of parchment. "He says that Doña Rufina de Borja is involved in a plot to end this merger."

"Valentine said that?" the king asks. A long pause follows. "Gods. Rosalinda..."

"Padre," Rosa prompts. "What's wrong?"

Mateo de Silva's smile is grim. "We're going to be alright, hija. Don't worry."

"Tell her what the message says, Mateo."

Her father's smile falters. "She's fragile."

The king scoffs. "My brother said the same of me, once. All fragile things must be broken."

"Not my daughter."

"But padre-"

"She has a right to know."

"I can't."

"I'm ordering you, Mateo."

Rosa's father looks to her. There's no trace of a smile on his face anymore. He puts his hands on her shoulders as if to brace her for what's to come.

"Rosa." He sighs her name. "Rufina de Borja is trying to kill you."