SEVEN
I SWALLOWED HARD and reminded myself where I was and when—and who I was pretending to be.
“Watch out,” James called as the opening chords played. “She’s a terrible dancer.”
I forced a chuckle and fell into step with the prince, in time with the tempo. “Your cousin is quite the gossip.” When his expression didn’t change, I urged lightness into my voice. No matter how I felt about him, I needed him to like me—Julianna. “He was just telling me about the time you chewed with your mouth open. I admit, I am horrified.”
“And I am horrified that a lady of your rank cannot dance.” Hints of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Unless James is simply spreading his disgusting lies again. Did he tell you I’m a poor swordsman? Because it isn’t true. He’s jealous, that’s all.”
“I have no idea what to believe at this point.” I let my smile fade and lowered my eyes. This was almost too easy. “Your Highness, I want to thank you again for your hospitality.”
“It’s nothing.” His tone fell bored again. “Were our situations reversed, I know your family would have taken me in as well.”
My family—birth and Ospreys alike—would have been clever enough to spot a spy, but I nodded. “I understand the Indigo Kingdom has been making efforts to mitigate the wraith’s effects.”
“It has. As part of the Wraith Alliance, we have Liadia’s research and construction plans for the barrier, as well as several other kingdoms’ work. Obviously, they’ve not been successful, but they have been educational. We’re confident that something will prove useful.”
Did he believe that? I couldn’t tell.
“Your Highness.” I pressed my lips together, glanced up, and met his eyes as we took slow, steady steps around each other. “I’d like to help. The wraith destroyed my home. I don’t want to see it destroy another.”
“That is incredibly brave of you.”
“I want to see the wraith stopped. I need to help.” The idea of spending more time with Tobiah and the Indigo Order made me need to vomit, actually, but this might be the fastest way to learn whether the Indigo Kingdom was drafting men from Aecor to fight in the wraithland.
And when I took back Aecor, I’d need to know if there was a way to protect my kingdom from the wraith, too.
Tobiah bowed his head. “I’ll see what I can do. Though do keep in mind we all hope you will be able to rest and recover from your journey. I’m sure you’re eager to see this stopped, but your health comes first.”
I made my voice raspy. “At least until the wraith arrives.”
“It won’t happen tomorrow.” He said it like a prince, like someone who’d never known uncertainty. Like he could command tomorrow to be wraith-free.
He’d never known the horror of seeing his people shoved into a courtyard to witness the execution of his blindfolded king and queen. His parents.
He’d never known the fear of the orphanage, with bigger children who stole food and bedding, and beat the younger ones for fun. And minders who didn’t care.
He’d never known hunger in a winter-frozen castle, trapped with other starving children.
The dance ended, and everyone applauded the musicians. I clapped as well, but my thoughts were far away.
“Are you well?” Tobiah studied my face. “You’ve gone pale.”
“It’s warm in here. I’d like to sit, if you don’t mind.”
There were chairs placed all around the ballroom, many with occupants already, but Tobiah led me to a seat under the orchestra’s balcony and helped me settle.
“May I get anything for you?”
Information. Lists. My kingdom.
“No, thank you. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.” Tobiah took the seat next to me and though his tone was all compassion, his posture announced otherwise: he leaned slightly away from me, rather than toward, and his hands rested too stiffly on his knees. He couldn’t wait to get away. “Perhaps it’s too early for you to be out yet. You just arrived, after all.”
I tilted my shoulders toward him, clasped my hands together in earnestness, and repeated the same excuse I’d given James: I refused to be the sad duchess doomed to friendlessness. “I desperately want to know more about the Indigo Kingdom and its people. This is my new home.”
He waited.
“For example”—a cresting-wave sigil caught my eye—“the Houses. I’ve seen them on flags and carriages, and anything else that can be labeled. What do they mean?”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, upsetting the slight curls. “They represent birthplace. Those born in the Indigo Mountains or Valley claim House of the Dragon.”
“You’re Dragon.”
He nodded. “And my mother claims Sun, as she was born northeast of here. Chey is House of the Sea, from directly east. House of the Unicorn is to the southeast. My fiancée is House of the Unicorn.” He rested his elbows on his knees and linked his hands together. “It has little to do with family and more to do with the location of one’s birth, similar to the belief in Liadia that the month of one’s birth influences personality. There are stories about those four regions, and how the Houses influence people born under them, but it’s not commonly discussed anymore. It’s more tradition than anything.”
“Oh, my apologies, then. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I don’t mind. Most people view the stories as too magical, though.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, like waiting to see whether I’d break down again. I held my spine straight and my chin firm. “With magic being the source of the wraith, anything related to magic—even legend—is taboo.”
Lady Julianna would be supportive of this. “I understand.” But still inquisitive, perhaps. I dropped my voice. “The Indigo Kingdom has a complete ban on magic?”
He nodded. “To assist in our efforts to stop the wraith.”
“And the people comply?”
Tobiah turned his head, studying me. “Most. They’ve had a hundred years to get used to the ban.”
“But not everyone.”
“Not everyone.” He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “There are some who persist. The Indigo Order finds them.”
“Or Black Knife does.”
He cocked his head. “Has he made a name for himself even in Liadia?”
I bit back a laugh. “No, but I hadn’t even stepped foot in Skyvale before I heard tales. Refugee children pretend to be him.”
“So do some of the nobility.” Tobiah jerked his chin toward a tall, handsome man dancing with three ladies at once. “Notoriety means never being lonely at night.”
I twisted my face into a conspiratorial smile. “It seems to me that kind of notoriety might mean never having time for that sort of company.”
Tobiah chuckled. “As long as it keeps Lord Daniel out of worse trouble.”
After a quiet moment, I said, “I was curious. . . .”
Tension wound up in the prince’s shoulders. When had it left?
“What happens to them? The flashers arrested by the Indigo Order and Black Knife?”
“They don’t use magic anymore.” Tobiah shrugged as though he truly did not care. “That’s what matters.” He pushed himself up and gave a slight bow. “If you’re recovered, my lady, I’d better excuse myself and dance with my fiancée.”
“Of course. Congratulations on your engagement, Your Highness.”
The sullen expression broke for a minuscule smile. Then he turned, bumped into someone, apologized, and made his way through the ballroom.
Alone under the balcony, I studied the dancers as the next song began. Lady Julianna might have been a fool to come out tonight, but it had been a wise move for me. James and Tobiah were wealthy with information. I just had to ask the right questions.
From across the dance floor, Melanie caught my eye, a silent query in her lifted brow. I cast a faint nod and smile, and went back to my observations. Learning dance steps. Who spoke with whom. Who seemed to be the most important members of society. The king and queen were present, though halfway through, Terrell doubled over with a coughing fit, and both Tobiah’s mother and father left early.
A few men here and there asked me to dance. I accepted, gleaning bits of information from them as well, and at last the orchestra played the final song.
Together, Melanie and I stepped outside, pausing to admire the glittering night as carriages pulled up and out of the drive. Couples and families left in groups, laughing or yawning or gazing suggestively at each other.
Before I could start toward our carriage, though, Prince Tobiah stepped in. “My ladies. I’d be honored if you rode back to the palace with me.”
I caught James’s smirk behind Tobiah as I accepted. Soon, we were tucked inside a large carriage with heated stones placed beneath the benches, and heavy wool shawls over our shoulders. A lantern provided a feeble illumination over the blue-and-gold interior, but cast more shadows. The prince and his bodyguard sat across from us, loosening their collars and buttons as the carriage lurched into motion and the candlelight jumped.
“The duchess is returning home with her family,” James explained when he caught me eyeing the prince’s fiancée as she glided by outside with a pair of adults. Her parents, presumably.