Reign or Shine

  Reign or Shine

  The Forged Flower Saga

  Book 1

  Coriana Hope

  Reign or Shine: The Forged Flower Saga, Book 1 by Coriana Hope

  Copyright © 2022 Coriana Hope

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  Cover Art: Rebecca Frank

  ISBN: 979-8986181103

  My first book is for my first sibling, my first reader, and my

  first supporter. Thank you, Connor.

  Table of Contents

  Reign or Shine

  Part 1

  Chapter 1. Party Crashing

  Chapter 2. An Experience

  Chapter 3. Pranks and Promises

  Chapter 4. Birds of a Flaming Feather

  Chapter 5. Accidental Slaughter

  Chapter 6. Men Call Him an Intriguer

  Chapter 7. Thuh Sped uv Lite

  Chapter 8. Tree Friend

  Chapter 9. It Starts with S

  Chapter 10. Fifteen

  Part 2

  Chapter 11. The ICUP

  Chapter 12. The Princess Games

  Chapter 13. Rekindled

  Chapter 14. Blood and Ketchup Go Flying

  Chapter 15. I Fail at Failing

  Chapter 16. One Down, Two to Go

  Chapter 17. A Posse of Princes

  Part 3

  Chapter 18. Unwanted Answers

  Chapter 19. Princess Prodigy

  Chapter 20. A Deal with a Devil

  Chapter 21. Modeling Dresses and Other Death-Defying Feats

  Chapter 22. Lying and Dying in Holes

  Part 4

  Chapter 23. Fiends and Fiancés

  Chapter 24. As Flighty as Smoke

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Part 1

  “You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.” Matthew 5:14

  “He who plots evil doing—men call him an intriguer.” Proverbs 24:8

  Chapter 1. Party Crashing

  Once upon a time . . .

  That’s how my story was supposed to start. That’s how SnowWhite (my mother), and all the other royals in every kingdom, everywhere in Clystopia, thought it would start. Everyone except me. I always figured it would start with someone screaming.

  “Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!”

  I twitched, looking up from my hands resting idly on my lap. The maid at my door looked the same as she had the time she walked in on me climbing the canopy on my bed—horrified, scandalized, and repulsed. A black, leggy dot dangled in the doorway in front of her.

  “Relax,” I said, getting off the futon and walking over. “It’s just a spider.”

  ’Tis naught but a spider.

  My last tutor’s nasally turkey gobble of a voice resonated in my head, even though she had finally given up on me and quit three weeks ago. She’d stayed longer than most, though, and since it was summer, my parents hadn’t hired another one. As if I didn’t have enough annoying voices constantly rebuking me out loud. I didn’t need hers popping into my head too.

  I scooped up the little spider, who was hardly more than a speck, and took him across the room to my balcony, releasing him over the railing’s edge. He floated away, free of the confines of the stone castle. It was raining, and I hoped the little guy didn’t drown. Could spiders drown? I didn’t know.

  I returned indoors but left the balcony doors open. I wasn’t supposed to keep them open when it rained, but I liked rain and the fresh breeze that came with it, especially today.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” the maid, Brenna, said. “I am terribly frightened of spiders.”

  No kidding. “Don’t worry about it. Do you have a message for me?” I asked, even though I already knew she did, and what it was.

  “The King and Queen have asked me to escort you to the carriage that awaits in the courtyard. They are preparing to depart for SeaCrest, and wish to arrive well before the parade.”

  I swallowed. I’d been ready to leave for an hour, but I hadn’t wanted to drag myself into the carriage sooner than I had to. I’d begged my parents, Queen SnowWhite and King Orrluxe, to let me skip the birthday parade and garden party that were being held for the neighboring princess. They would represent our kingdom of Agaedith better without me. I would likely end up doing something to embarrass them in front of all the other reigning monarchs and heirs. But my mother insisted I participate because practically every royal family would be attending, and it would reflect poorly on us if the only Clystopian heir that didn’t show up was the one who lived only two miles away.

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes. You can go,” I said. I didn’t need to be escorted. I could find my own way out of the castle, thank you very much.

  “If it is all the same to you, Your Highness, perhaps I can accompany you anyway? The Queen was particularly adamant that I should stay with you.”

  “Fine, I’m coming.” Rolling my eyes, I returned to the balcony and latched the glass doors. Grabbing the pair of pristine white gloves on my cherrywood nightstand, I opened my shoe closet and shoved my feet into a pair of silk slippers. Today was definitely not a high heel day. No day, in fact, was a high heel day. Sticking a random crown from the crown cabinet onto my head, I spared a longing glance toward my bed—and the entrance to the secret passageway hidden beneath it—then strode from the room as Brenna bowed me out.

  I led the way across halls and down staircases of cold gray stone that no amount of lush red carpet, richly colored tapestries, or sparkling gem statues could disguise. The walls seemed to press closer around me every minute. I preferred to travel within the walls, through the multitude of hidden passages that twined through the castle and grounds. My mother didn’t know about them. She was too concerned about dirtying her dresses to scoot through dust and cobwebs. When my dad was a young prince, he’d gone exploring as I did, but he was too regal and kingish to do that anymore.

  Surprisingly, the servants didn’t know about many of the passages either. Or if they did, they rarely used them. I filched snacks from the kitchen or a book from the library anytime I wanted. I escaped the castle when I was grounded or spied on my parents’ royal conferences. The conferences were usually boring, though. I overheard lots of news and gossip from the servants, much of which was about me, my parents, or other royal families in neighboring kingdoms. They complained about us a lot. Technically, I could have them beheaded for that, but the way I saw it, that wouldn’t make them like us more.

  My mother eyed me as I descended the main staircase to the entrance hall. She languished on a gilded bench along the edge of the wall, but her fingers tapped the elbow rest impatiently.

  I looked nothing like her with her hair “as black as ebony,” skin “as white as snow,” lips “as red as blood,” and a facial expression as pathetic as a hurt puppy. I’d inherited my father’s stormy eyes as well as his brown hair and golden skin. Neither of them had passed their personality to me, which was a puzzle I’d yet to solve.

  When our eyes met, SnowWhite rose and called to me by my full name, Chrisithia. I clenched my jaw. She knew I disliked being called that. She did it just to irritate me, since I’d irritated her by arriving ten seconds late. To everyone else, I was Chris.


  As soon as my toes hit the bottom step, SnowWhite commented on my poor choice of footwear. Slippers made of silk should not be worn on rainy days, which I should know by my age. My crown did not match my dress—had I not noticed? And I should have picked out a necklace, because my neck looked ever so bare.

  My jaw stayed clenched. In all other ways, though, I tried to look repentant. If my eyes glazed over or my mouth turned rebelliously downward, she’d notice and be all over me for that next.

  Apparently, my mother had endured a rough childhood. Both her parents died when she was young, so she was left alone with her sister RoseRed and her grandmother. When she grew older and married, she also lost her first husband, and then had to deal with her evil mother-in-law, who was out to kill her. Luckily, my dad, who happened to be a handsome prince, rescued her from a magical slumber by awakening her with a kiss.

  I couldn’t help but think that if I had been her, I would have stolen the stupid mother-in-law’s magic mirror, started a revolution with the dwarves, overthrown the evil queen, and left the prince out of the equation. But maybe that was just me.

  After finishing her rant, SnowWhite floated out the door, her swishing skirts barely fitting through. My father sent me a stern look before trailing after her.

  Already frustrated, I took a deep breath before stepping outside. It looked like the weather would be gray and drizzly for hours. If I didn’t have a stupid parade float to ride around in, I would have gone for a walk in the orchard. Sloshing through puddles of muddy water until my dress was waterlogged and my skin more wrinkly than a dried apricot was fun, and it was an excellent way to aggravate my parents. I hoped the parade would be canceled due to everyone complaining about ruining their hair.

  I turned my face up to the crystalline droplets, but a black umbrella popped up over my head, blocking them. I frowned, turning to see who was preventing my small mutiny: the butler. He was far too proactive for my liking.

  Huffing, I walked briskly toward the waiting carriage so that he had to hurry after with the umbrella to keep me from being soaked. Instead of following the path, I cut across the grass. My silk slippers felt like sponges on my feet, squishing through the greenery.

  One of the carriage horses snorted as I came up.

  “Hi, Stormy!” I greeted the black horse with a friendly scratch on the mane before the butler could advise me against it. Stormy’s stall was next to the stall of my own horse, Snowy. My white gloves turned wet and hairy, but my perfectly pristine mother would be irritated, so I didn’t mind.

  Ignoring the butler’s arm held out to assist me into the carriage, I leaped inside nimbly. My father followed, leading my mother by the arm. They’d fallen behind me when I took the grassy shortcut. The two of them seated themselves across from me, still holding each other’s hands. SnowWhite brushed her voluminous amounts of clothing out of her way. Unfortunately, that meant they were now in my way. Flailing underneath a sea of my mother’s skirt train, ribbons, and cloak, I gasped for air.

  “Help!” I squeaked. They ignored me. I doubted they would even care if I met my end through skirt suffocation.

  Disentangling myself with some difficulty, I hung halfway out the window to get some space and escape the heavy scent of my mother’s apple cinnamon perfume.

  The ride was over quickly, but unfortunately the rain finished even faster. By the time we reached Castle SeaCrest, sleepy sunlight streamed over the sandy beaches and made the sea sparkle like freshly cut diamonds from Agaedith’s dwarf mines. I scented a salty tang in the air much nicer than any perfume. Even the smell of rotting seaweed was an improvement.

  Though I was used to living surrounded by thick deciduous trees, I liked the openness of the ocean. I enjoyed the expansive view and feel of the wind, and I wondered what would happen if I stowed away on a ship and set out on an adventure, leaving all royal foolishness behind. The sea was a place for dreaming. It amazed me that only two miles away, the sandy soil gave way to rich loam that allowed the familiar woods and apple trees to grow around Castle Agaedith. Some folks believed that a powerful but benevolent sorcerer had cast a climate spell over the beachside kingdom because he wanted somewhere warm to retire, but no one knew for sure how or why the environment changed so suddenly.

  Along the coastline, servants prepared parade floats, making last minute adjustments and helping royals with costume details. Our carriage stopped beside a float decorated with realistic-looking apple trees heavy with ripe red fruit. The driver opened the door, and my parents stepped out. When I tried to follow them, the driver slammed the door in my face. Okay, then. I would stay there.

  The carriage lurched again, taking me to a separate float. It had apple trees as well, but the boughs were covered in pink and white flowers. The driver finally let me get out, but as soon as I did, I was attacked.

  The float designers and their assistants dragged me behind a screen and grappled with my hair until I felt as if I had none left. One maid peeled my waterlogged slippers off my feet and held them between one finger and a thumb, her lips curling in disgust. Another maid shoved a pair of pastel pink kitten heels on me. Then they undressed me to my corset and petticoats and tossed a pink, floor-length dress stitched with real, freshly picked flowers over my head.

  Even the flowers were pink! That worst of colors stalked me everywhere. Since I was a princess, it was a difficult hue to escape. I would have drowned in pink gowns, decorations, and accessories by that point if I hadn’t thrown a fit when I was four and trashed all my possessions of that color. Since then, any new pink items given to me were immediately regifted or shoved into the recesses of my closet.

  But what could I do—insist I be allowed to wear the dress I’d arrived in? Even though I was a royal, I had very little control when it came to my wardrobe—or my diet, hobbies, lessons, responsibilities, or schedule, for that matter.

  A bell sounded, and the servants ushered me onto the float and then abandoned me. It was too late to take drastic measures. I would have to settle for the thin pink garment and hope the flowers didn’t decide to wilt off me, leaving my clothing full of holes. Who had designed such a dress anyway?

  A band started up, playing an unfamiliar romantic tune with violins and a harp. It created a questionable ambiance for a parade. Presumably, there would be lots of people shouting and clapping. A more spirited song would have set the atmosphere better.

  Though the floats ahead of me had already moved away, following a path along the coast, I wasn’t prepared when the ground beneath my feet took off without me. After nearly falling over and flashing a crowd of onlookers in the process, I managed to grab a tree branch above my head. It cracked, but held long enough for me to regain my balance.

  Whoops! I considered what to do with the broken branch. Taking a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I tossed it to the side. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen the assistant who was still standing there.

  “Sorry!” I called as it bonked him on the head. Oh yes—the parade was off to a great start.

  After the brief excitement was over, though, it became monotonous. I turned to the left. Hey, people! I waved and smiled. I turned to the right. More people! I smiled and waved. I refrained from picking my wedgie because everyone was watching. And so on. But that was okay with me. I didn’t mind boring. I could entertain myself quite easily.

  Being in a parade was great for people-watching. Since everyone was in a crowd, no one thought anyone could be watching them. Most commoners wore darker colors that didn’t stain easily, like green, brown, gray, or black. The shopkeepers stood out because of their blue and purple attire. They had more money to spend on clothes than the fishermen and fruit gatherers, and more reason to look nice. But overall, the SeaCrest economy seemed like it was adequately supporting its citizens, since very few people looked murderously at the parade participants or stroked their hoes and harpoons with longing.

  Poverty wasn’t unheard of, though. I saw a child dressed in a white
sack with flour printed on the front. His sister had one that said potato. Three women wore hats decorated with dyed seagull feathers in an attempt to look exotic, and their jewelry was made of shells and sea glass. Instead of a toy, a toddler sucked on a piece of seaweed. Sandals woven from palm fronds weren’t an uncommon replacement for shoes, and many people’s skin looked withered like raisins from years of exposure to constant sunlight.

  I kicked off my heels. Three rubies formed a glistening cluster at each of the toes. Were they real? I didn’t know. I tore all six off anyway and tossed them toward the children in food-sack clothing. Then I threw the shoes, too, because I wanted to be rid of them. They were heels, and they were pink.

  Deciding that I couldn’t see enough beneath the fake trees, I climbed to the top of the artificial canopy and looked out over the line in front of me. Most princes and princesses stood on the same float as their parents, but not all. Princess Coralla, the birthday girl, led the parade. She waved from the bow of a magnificent ship, complete with a mast, sails, and rowers. Laomi, one of Coralla’s close friends, stood high in an open tower, her long jet-black braid tumbling down and coiling at the base. Her black and gold dress was a stark contrast to the pastel colors most other princesses wore, but she thrust her chin upward with utter confidence.

  Smiling and waving a few floats down were my twin cousins, SunGold and StarSilver. If my aunt had given birth to only one child, I would have been named StarSilver. Instead, while sulking about having the name for her baby “stolen” from her, SnowWhite named me after the first random plant she saw after I was born—forsythia. That’s how I ended up bearing such a flowery, monstrous mouthful of a name.

  One of the coolest floats was a green and gold dragon spouting orange flames. The prince who rode it sat proudly in front of the wings. It was difficult to recognize him from the back, but I thought it might be Lanovan, Laomi’s twin brother.