The Orphan Queen

We mingled with the other guests until the music began, then took our partners in the lines of dancers. I still didn’t feel as confident in my dancing as I’d have liked, but this time I knew more of the steps and kept up with my partner, a count from another region of the kingdom.

 

He rambled on about his control of sheep farmers and wheat mills, and I responded where appropriate, but my mind kept wandering. A tree, maybe, or a rooftop. Somewhere dark and dangerous. In my mind, my partner was a boy in all black, and our music was the clashing of blades. Our dance was leaping and cutting and pulling the other back to their feet.

 

After the first dance ended, Tobiah helped his mother and father stand and the room fell quiet.

 

“Thank you all for joining me tonight.” Terrell’s voice wasn’t quite feeble, but he was certainly struggling to make himself heard. Several people in the back of the room shifted forward, and others began repeating his speech for those who couldn’t hear. “There are so many people to be grateful to: firstly, my wife, Francesca, and my son, Tobiah. I wish I could say they are my life, but as a king, that hasn’t always been true. There have been so many times when my wife and son have come second, or third, or worse. Nevertheless, they’ve stood by me, and now my son prepares for his marriage and eventual reign as king. As a father—and as a king—I couldn’t be prouder.”

 

Francesca and Tobiah gave Terrell warm smiles, and the audience clapped politely. The applause didn’t last long; the king continued, and everyone had to strain to hear again, if they were interested at all.

 

I spent the remainder of his speech observing the guests. There were many I didn’t recognize. Perhaps I’d be able to pry James from Tobiah’s side and receive a bit more of his gossip.

 

The speeches went on. Tobiah and his mother each spoke, droning about how much they loved and appreciated Terrell, what a great king he was, and how hard he worked to serve the people of the Indigo Kingdom.

 

The crowd grew restless and, from across the room, I caught James’s eye. He quirked a smile and subtly scratched his ear with his smallest finger. At the rude implication, I hid a chuckle under a fake cough. The bodyguard’s smile widened.

 

Melanie elbowed me. “Stop it.”

 

I signaled for James to dance with me once the speeches were over. His eyebrows lifted, but he nodded.

 

From beside his father, Prince Tobiah frowned in my direction.

 

At last the speeches were finished and the music began. I tried to catch James’s eye again as dancers began pairing off, but Tobiah had him cornered. Melanie had already accepted someone’s invitation to dance, so I wandered alone toward the terrace. The glass doors were closed against the night chill, and it was too bright inside to see anything outside, but I pretended I was studying the stars, while really watching the reflections of dancers behind me.

 

“Your Highness. My lord,” I said as they appeared on either side of me. Tobiah offered a glass of wine, which I accepted. “Thank you.”

 

“I must caution you about venturing outside,” said the prince. “It’s cold, and you’ve been ill.”

 

“But Lady Julianna was wise enough to bring a shawl and gloves. We won’t keep her long.” James pushed open one of the large doors, and a gust of wind made all the candles flicker, but we were all three outside a moment later.

 

The terrace faced west, toward the wraithland. The odd scoop of the Midvale Ridge stood silhouetted in the night sky.

 

I walked ahead of the boys, past the glass tables and cushioned chairs, hardly realizing I was moving. I held my shawl closed with one hand, and rested my wineglass on the twisted iron railing.

 

What had I done in that desolate place? I couldn’t have brought the wraith to life; my magic didn’t work like that. The life it gave objects wasn’t true life. It was just . . . temporary animation. A temporary compulsion for otherwise inanimate objects to do my bidding.

 

But I couldn’t deny that something had happened, and it was different. Dangerous. The wraith knew my name.

 

“Do you think of it often, my lady?” James asked.

 

“Too often.” I turned my back to the wraithland. The boys stood side by side, identical in their postures, and so similar in features that they might be mistaken for brothers. They were silhouetted by the brilliant lights shining through the terrace doors, through which I could see the sway and swell of dancers in glittery gowns and perfect black tailcoats. Around the door, mirrors hung on every opaque surface, reflecting starlight.

 

Out of habit, I shifted out of the way of the mirrors. The boys were already standing where they wouldn’t reflect.

 

“Is there something you wished to discuss?” I sipped my wine, hoping the alcohol would warm me.

 

“Go ahead, James.” The prince broke his stance to move toward the railing behind me.

 

Having him where I couldn’t see him made me wary. I adjusted my position so the prince filled the corner of my vision while I focused on James. “My lord?”

 

James’s shoulders dropped. “I feel it’s only fair to warn you. There’s been some concern regarding your residency documents.”

 

My heart stumbled. “Excuse me?”

 

The lieutenant nodded. “It seems a warehouse in Greenstone was recently robbed. The only items taken were ink and a few pieces of paper—paper with the Liadian watermark.”

 

I caught a glimpse of Melanie dancing inside. Her gown swirled, and the black lengths of her hair gleamed in the illumination. “Someone believes our documents are forged?” My voice was hoarse.

 

“No.” James shifted his weight. “Well, not yet. The police will search the warehouse for clues, while our records-keepers and secretaries make further inquiries into your past. They’ll also begin verifying your documentation against others. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but I wouldn’t want anyone to catch you off guard.”

 

As if I hadn’t been caught off guard already. My documents were flawless; I’d gone over them and added the final details myself. But who would have known about the warehouse in Greenstone?

 

Black Knife.

 

Unease and disappointment tightened in my stomach. “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and sipped my wine. “What prompted this inquiry, if I may ask?”

 

James began. “Lady Ch—”

 

Tobiah cut him off with a lifted hand. He’d been staring westward so thoroughly I hadn’t realized he’d even been aware of the conversation. “I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to say. Regardless of the outcome, you’ll hear your accuser’s concerns when this is all over. For now, it’s probably best to keep the peace.”

 

When the prince turned away again, James mouthed, “Chey Chuter.”

 

Of course. That day in the ladies’ solar, when she’d counseled me about using my perceived unimportance, Chey hadn’t been offering advice. She’d been warning me that she knew I wasn’t who I claimed, and I’d been too foolish to understand it. She’d been playing games with me the whole time.

 

It didn’t matter. I’d figure out a way to call off the inquiry and reestablish my place here. We’d succeeded in our goals thus far, but I wanted to know more about their plans to stop the wraith. Having seen the wraithland firsthand, I might actually be able to help.

 

But first, I had to figure out how to tell them that the wraith was alive.

 

Alive. Aware. In pursuit.

 

“You’re shivering, my lady. I’m afraid we’ve kept you outside too long; I’d hate to undo all the recovery you’ve made from your illness.” James offered his arm, and the heat of his body warmed me. “Shall we go back inside? I believe you owe me a dance, and then one for Tobiah. He got jealous earlier.”

 

“James.” The prince’s tone was light. Friendly. Something shared with only his cousin.

 

“I’d be honored to dance with both of you, as long as Lady Meredith doesn’t mind.” I offered the prince my free arm, though I still held my wineglass with that hand. He took it from me and placed all our glasses on a table. After the smallest hesitation, he hooked his arm with mine.

 

Two boys at my sides: one as warm and genuine as a summer day, and the other as cold and deceptive as winter night.

 

James grinned at me. “What a scandal we’ll cause.”

 

“It wouldn’t be a ball if someone didn’t take it upon themselves to be wildly inappropriate.” I put on a smug smile and we strode back into the ballroom.

 

 

 

 

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