Should I approach her again? It’s difficult to tell how today went. She laughed at the end, but maybe it’s all a ploy, pretending she doesn’t know who I am. Maybe Sinora gave her the same mission Father gave me. A chance to rout out secrets and discover exactly who’s making what move, and where, and when. It’s possible.
The Princess tilts her head now, whispering to her brother. They’re a matching pair—dark-haired with the hint of Southern features, glittering in their fancy clothes.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Lieutenant.” The voice has a suspiciously familiar serpent quality, and I turn to find Ambassador Havis. “You don’t seem very useful in a place like this,” he adds, as if it’s up for debate.
“You’re right,” I say. I take the plate of glazed-something from Cyar’s hands—Cyar making a little noise of annoyance—and hand it to Havis. “I’m the youngest. I believe I’m here to smile and serve the food.”
Havis doesn’t smile at my joke, nor does he accept my offer. There’s nothing pleasant between us, and that hasn’t changed since Norvenne. He stares hard, and I just wait, because I think he thrives on watching people squirm, and unfortunately for him, I’ve got a lifetime of experience with that type. Eventually, his eyes drift to the royal table, to the Princess, and I follow.
She’s glaring a black storm of fury at me.
I almost take a step back from it, my stomach doing a giant leap into oblivion. She knows who I am. Of course she knows, because she’s Sinora’s daughter, and now I’ll never get her to speak with me, or even look at me, and it’s goodbye to Cyar’s twenty-millimeter cannons. Goodbye to serving together. He’ll be pushed into the hell of battle and I won’t even be there to cover his wing.
I feel sick.
Unaware of my impending horror, Havis mutters, “Watch yourself,” and brushes past.
I wait a moment, steeling myself, then hazard a glance back to the Princess.
Thank God and everything holy! Her furious gaze has followed Havis—not for me, after all. Her eyes return, softer, more hesitant, studying me from head to toe. We’ve been instructed to show up in full dress uniform. Polished with leather gloves on. I never feel entirely like me in it, which I guess is fitting for tonight. Did I tell her it was three planes or four? Five? Need to keep my story straight.
She motions me to come.
Me? I check to see who else is around, but we’ve put ourselves in a corner, our normal strategy for these kinds of parties, and there’s no one except Cyar. This must be what it’s like in the gunsight of an enemy plane. Time to act, whether you’re ready or not.
She waves again, an encouraging impatience to the gesture.
“That’s for me, isn’t it?” I ask Cyar.
“Certainly isn’t for me.” He snatches his plate of food back. “Get yourself off the runway, Lieutenant.”
He’s right. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the sky looks like beyond the runway, if there’s a storm of vintage weapons brewing. But since Father’s only ten feet away, encircled by a captive audience and certainly keeping an eye on me, I’d better act.
I straighten my shoulders and walk for Sinora’s table.
“Good evening, Lieutenant,” the Princess says when I arrive, chin raised.
“Good evening,” I say, suddenly wondering if I need to bow or not.
“I hope you’ll sit with us for the evening.”
Yes, this feels like a trap somehow. There’s a flicker of polite anxiety on her face, the way Kalt looks when Arrin and Father are going at it in public, and why else would she invite me here? I try to think of a way around the offer, but she beats me to it.
“I told my mother about your apology and she was happy to have you join us tonight. The entire misunderstanding is forgotten, all that business with the aeroplane. It’s fine now.” She smiles again.
If only it were that simple.
The Prince, standing nearby, appears less forgiving.
“You want me to sit with you?” I clarify, looking at him.
She clasps her hands. “Only if you’d like to, of course.”
“I’m sure the Lieutenant would be happy to honour us with his presence,” Havis contributes, swooping to her side with a relishing grin. He sounds far too enthusiastic about it.
She darkens again, that little storm breaking through the politeness, and steps away from him. “You don’t have to, Lieutenant. We’d understand if you have other obligations.”
I really can’t tell if she wants me to stay or go.
“I suppose…” I glance over my shoulder at Father’s table, but he’s working his crowd. Uninterested in my predicament. “I suppose, yes. Why not?”
“Wonderful. Take that seat there,” Havis says. “I’ll request another glass of wine and—”
“First, my mother wishes to meet you, Lieutenant,” the Princess interjects, and my pulse picks up hard. I’m in the gunsight now. There’s a shadow on my wings, no going back.
We walk for the head of the long, narrow table, my thoughts bolting in a hundred directions, and the Princess stays at my side, heady jasmine filling my nose. Sinora greets us with an inclined head. She’s dressed in gold, seated like a lounging cat beside one of her lords.
I bow to her. It hurts my bones.
“Ah, Lieutenant,” she says. “I heard a rumour today about you and one of my aeroplanes.” Her red lips purse with what might be amusement.
I force a smile. “Only a bit of fun, Your Majesty.”
“Fun? I didn’t know the young men of Savient were allowed that indulgence.”
“Only when we’re certain not to be caught.” I nod towards Father, then lower my voice. “So please don’t tell on me.”
She chuckles, sharp lines appearing around her eyes and mouth. “Your secret is safe with me.” Then she regards me, taking her time. I’m sure she sees all of Mother in my face, lit like a spotlight in the dark, maybe even a trace of Father. “You seem familiar, Lieutenant. I can’t put my finger on it, but you remind me of someone I once knew.”
My blood prickles hot. “I hear that a lot, Your Majesty.”
“Oh?” Her lids are lined in black, feline. There’s a question in her eyes, like perhaps I’ll admit the truth to her.
I manage a laugh. “No, not really.”
She stares, her face changing from surprise, and then she laughs as well, loudly, though no one else at this table besides Havis would ever get the joke. “Be welcome here,” she says with a sweep of her hand, jewels on every finger.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
I turn and nearly run into the Princess. Forgot she was standing behind me. Her face is upturned to mine, eyes wide and velvet, relief there, like I’ve passed a test.
“Lieutenant,” Sinora calls, “perhaps you’re unaware, but it’s customary to bow when departing my presence as well.”
She’s making me do it again. She’s reminding me of my place, and all of me burns with hatred as I oblige.
The Princess escorts me back to our seats, putting me at an empty spot between two lords, and a fresh glass of red wine awaits. She sits beside her brother, across from me, and Havis lounges on her other side, flicking a steak knife against his plate.
“We’re delighted you decided to join us,” she says once I’m seated.
“Yes, thrilled,” the Prince echoes, sounding rather the opposite. “We’re eager to learn more of your exploits, Lieutenant…?”
“Athan Erelis.”
“Mm.” The Prince sips at his wine, analyzing me.
“Athan,” the Princess repeats under her breath.
Servants set steaming plates before us. “Lamb in mint sauce,” they announce, but the Princess gets her own little creation. All greens and potatoes.
“You don’t eat meat?” I ask.
She gives a delicate shrug. “No creature should die for me to live.”
Apparently she doesn’t see the irony of that, surrounded as we are by all this indulgent grandeur, but I let it be. I try to search for any guilt or nerves or angle to her face, but she only smiles, looking mostly pleased with me. Curious and waiting. At my hand, my wine taunts like a viper. The fear is illogical, since this entire visit is perched on the illusion of alliance, and harming one of us, even a rookie officer, would only unleash a nightmare of diplomacy.
Still …
The Princess gestures at my glass. “It’s the best wine we have in Etania. My favourite.” Her lips part with pretty expectation. “It’s very sweet. You’ll like it.”