The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)

As the dance brought us closer, I whispered, “I understand.”


The tension around his mouth relaxed as the music faded. “I knew you would,” he murmured. “Better than anyone, I knew you would.”

“You know me.” My life, my secrets, my faults.

“I know you.” A faint smile pulled at his lips. “Curtsy, Wilhelmina.”

We’d stood a moment too long. I stepped back and dipped into a curtsy, while he bowed, and the guests applauded as though we’d saved the whole world from the wraith right there.

I held up a hand and the noise died. “I’m not going to make a speech tonight. I think we’ve had enough speeches for one day—for the year, perhaps—and we’d all like to see more action.”

A few people cheered.

“Let’s start with dancing and celebration. First thing tomorrow morning, we will face our problems: the Red Militia, the wraith, and the poverty our people have struggled under for so long. Tomorrow, we will begin the process of restoring Aecor.”

More cheers rose up, and I had to call over them: “Thank you! Now please dance.”

Tobiah walked me off the floor. “That was good.”

“No one actually likes speeches.” The music started up again, and everyone was talking and moving to take their positions. “They come for the gossip and food. And to show off their wealth. For me, it’s about the food.”

“Always food with you.”

“Live on the streets a few years and life will be about your next meal, too.” I hesitated when I saw the line of people near the chairs brought in for everyone with “Highness” or “Majesty” attached to their names. Flags were draped over the backs, and mine stood taller than the others, as though there might be confusion about who sat where.

“You’re doing a good job at the showing-off-your-wealth part.”

I frowned and slid the back of my hand along the edge of my cape. “I’m not even sure where these gowns are coming from.”

“You look like a queen.”

I forced a note of teasing into my voice. “And you look like a vigilante.”

He looked at me with complete seriousness. “If that’s what you want me to be.”

Every possible response caught in my chest. Yes? No? I wanted Tobiah to be himself, with or without the mask. But I couldn’t say that, not here, and not in front of all these people. Some conversations were best held in the dark.

I took my chair.

For an hour, we spoke to people, watched the dancing, and ate when food was brought our way. At last, people stopped creeping up to us with questions or requests, and I leaned on the arm of my chair, toward Tobiah.

“I wish I were in the city right now, as Black Knife.”

He let out a soft snort. “Do you remember the night of my engagement ball?”

I remembered Meredith and how stunning she’d been that evening. I remembered the way she’d looked up at Tobiah, her happiness shining through.

Tobiah didn’t comment on my sudden stillness. “Until I danced with you, all I could think about was Black Knife. And then you asked about him. Now I realize what a strange conversation that was. Me, knowing you as the nameless girl. You, knowing me from the One-Night War. Neither of us putting the final pieces together.”

“Nothing has ever been simple between us, has it?”

“I don’t think anything is simple. Ever.” He stood and offered me a hand. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“They’ll notice we’re gone.”

“We’ll be just a few minutes.”

I didn’t take his hand, but stood up and led him to a nearby office. When I turned on the gas lamp, the flare of light revealed only an old desk, a couple of bookcases, and a faded painting of a long-dead king. I closed the door behind us, even though James and Oscar were the only ones standing outside.

“I don’t remember Sandcliff Castle having so many gas lamps.” Tobiah strode to the window and stared out toward the bridge.

“Your uncle had them installed.”

“Ah.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How does it feel to take your throne at last?”

I leaned a hip on the desk and sighed. “I’d like to say important and monumental, but that wouldn’t be the truth.”

“Since when does lying stop you from saying something?” His tone was all teasing.

“Never,” I said. “But I will change. I want to be an honest and fair queen. I used to think my parents were.”

“Perhaps you judge them too harshly? Perhaps they were doing their best.”

“Perhaps.” I pulled myself straight. “But they didn’t even try to find an alternative way to provide the lowcity with clean water, or meet with the Wraith Alliance kingdoms. Perhaps they were doing the best they could, Tobiah, but I want to do better. I must do better.”

“I believe you will.” He faced me, his expression open and honest. “You have the advantage of empathy.”