“Happy birthday, Sophia. May salt protect you and the goddess bless you,” Eloisa said with a smile that seemed, for a brief moment, like the old Eloisa.
Sophie smiled back and took the box, then realized she’d have to give it to Cameron so she could open it. He took it happily, and she undid the latch and drew out a long supple roll of dark-brown leather. Memory jolted her, and she glanced up at Cameron. Unless she was mistaken, this was the roll of magical supplies that she had seen at Madame de Montesse’s shop the day of the attack. Had it been meant for her all along? That had to have been the height of irony.
She withdrew the roll and untied it, opening it as far as she could without a surface to lay it on. Sure enough, the silver knives, the gold chain, and the other pouches peeked out at her. She smiled at Eloisa. “Thank you, Your Majesty. This is too kind.”
Eloisa nodded at her and gestured to the empty seats at the table. Sophie tried not to sigh with relief. The first part of the night was done. Now she just had to pull off the Domina’s spectacle and everything would be all right. But first there was dinner to get through.
Dinner took a long time, but with Lord Airlight on one side and Cameron on her other, Sophie didn’t have to speak directly to Eloisa.
The high table was set along the end of the ballroom, perpendicular to the two rows of tables that traversed the edges of the room, so they were all seated on one side, facing the rest of the guests. The position made Sophie feel like she was on display, but it also limited the conversations that could take place. Being out of Eloisa’s direct gaze made things slightly less uncomfortable. So she managed to eat something of each of the myriad courses and make polite small talk with Lord Airlight when he and Cameron weren’t discussing obscure points of military history without any disasters. She waved away the wine, though. She wanted a clear head for what came next. She could have wine later.
Eventually, Eloisa pushed away the last of the dishes—a ginger and honey sorbet—and rose from her chair. “It grows warm in here. We think a turn about the gardens before the dancing would be refreshing.”
That was Sophie’s cue. She rose to follow Eloisa as the queen moved toward one of the doors leading out to the gardens. The court, following along behind them, was chattering curiously, and Sophie wished Cameron were beside her. His solid presence would give her the confidence to actually pull this off.
The queen walked out into the darkened gardens—this part of the arrangements had nearly given the commander apoplexy—and Sophie was well aware just how many Red Guard were stationed out there in the darkness, guarding them all.
Once the court had reassembled behind them, the murmurs turning puzzled at the lack of the usual lighting in the garden, Eloisa turned to Sophie. “Lady Sophia, we thought there would be more light from the moon this evening. This will never do. Perhaps you could lend some assistance in this matter?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She hoped her voice didn’t reveal the extent of her nerves. She stepped forward and raised her hands. One long breath, then another as she focused. Then she sent her power out toward the first of the long double circle of torches ringing the gardens. It flared to life obediently, and as the court started to applaud, she kept her focus, feeling for the next torch, looking for the shimmer of magic that the blessed oil the torches were doused in gave off. To her relief, each one sprang to life in rapid succession until she came full circle and the last one, to the left of the queen, blazed to life.
Unless she was mistaken, she’d lit all of them in less than a minute. More than a hundred torches. She felt a surge of satisfaction, and she turned and curtsied to Eloisa. When the Domina had first told her what she was to do at the ball, Sophie had half suspected the Domina wished her to fail. “I hope you find that to your liking, my queen.”
Eloisa nodded, smiling again. As Sophie rose from the curtsy, she spotted the Domina standing just behind the queen. Where had she come from?
Domina Skey’s expression seemed half respectful, half annoyed. Had Sophie been correct? Had the Domina been hoping Sophie would fail and disgrace herself? Well, if she had, then she had miscalculated. It was done now, and the torches were lit. The court had had their spectacle, and now she was going to try to enjoy her birthday party.
Hours later, Sophie stepped off the dance floor with Cameron and fanned herself with her hands. “I think I need something to drink, my lord,” she said, smiling up at him. “You dance very enthusiastically.”
“That’s the wild northerner in me,” he replied, smiling at her. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.” She had already had several glasses, but with no more public stunts to perform, she would allow herself one more. “I’ll meet you at my parents’ table.”
Cameron bowed and turned on his heel to fetch the drink. Sophie headed in the opposite direction. She had spoken to her parents earlier but not for very long. As she passed by one of the doors that led out to the garden, she caught a hint of a breeze and changed her mind. First a minute to herself in the cool night air, away from the stifling ballroom. Then she would go to her parents.
The garden was definitely cooler than the ballroom. She apparently wasn’t the only one who thought so. The gardens were alive with couples and small groups strolling through the torchlit grounds, laughing and talking quietly. Perhaps she should go back and fetch Cameron. Take a turn through the grounds with him. Stop for a minute or two in some dark spot and indulge herself in kissing her husband.
Smiling at the thought, she turned and went back inside. She wasn’t more than a few feet through the doors when a man stepped into her path.