Chapter One
I was notcommitting treason. I had no right to be in the family wing of the imperial palace, but wandering away from the ballroom was not an act of treason in and of itself. That I had memorized the route to Prince Dmir’s room showed premeditation, though I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But it wasn’t illegal.
On the other hand, entering his room as bold as I pleased without an invitation was certainly a dangerous approach to take. If he called the guards . . .
If he didn’t . . .
Balance take it. If he had simply attended tonight’s ball, I wouldn’t have needed to sneak into his rooms. No, that wasn’t fair. If my brother hadn’t gambled away a small fortune, there would be no need for me to speak with the prince at all.
I didn’t know what had come over Makev to make such a blunder. He was usually responsible, well aware of how our father reacted to mistakes. He provoked our father on a regular basis, but only with words. And after the last time? He knew better than to take such a risk and give Father an excuse to disown him. Losing money he didn’t have was probably the worst possible offense in Father’s eyes.
Makev had claimed the gin was at fault, saying he hadn’t realized how much he had drunk until the morning after.
At least he had alcohol to blame. I had no one but myself to blame for tonight’s act of foolishness.
My first stroke of good fortune of the evening came in the form of an unlocked door. I turned the knob and entered the prince’s suite.
The sitting room was empty. Of people, at least. It was stuffed to overflowing with books. There were more in the one room than could be found in my entire house. None of my ancestors had put much store in the written word. Prince Dmir clearly did.
A shadow-light hung from the ceiling, the illuminated half of the sphere casting a blueish-white light over the room. More shadow-lights littered the room in stands on tables and hinged frames attached to chairs, but they had all been flipped so that the light halves were hidden. I didn’t need any extra light, though.
With the way my luck was going, the prince wouldn’t be in his suite at all. The unlocked door was the only instance when an obstacle hadn’t been thrown in my path since learning of Makev’s debt. After going through the trouble of securing an invitation to the imperial ball, however, I planned to check every room. I wasn’t about to leave without being thorough, even if the odds were good that the prince was out winning another fortune he didn’t need.
I made my way to the inner door and threw it open.
A single shadow-light on a stand by the bed cast a soft glow over the room and its inhabitant. Prince Dmir looked up and over at the doorway, his eyes wide.
My luck held—finally—and he did not shout for anyone to come drag me away.
“Your Highness.” I curtseyed. The taffeta of my gown rustling was the only sound in the room. I kept my knees bent a moment longer than necessary, but the formal greeting hardly disguised the fact that I had barged into the prince’s bedroom. Nor did it help me ignore the prince’s bare chest, a few drops of water rolling over the smooth skin until they reached the waistband of his loose trousers.
I swallowed. I wasn’t an inexperienced maiden, but I wasn’t far from it, either. Nervous as I was, I still had some expectations for the evening, and Prince Dmir shirtless surpassed them.
The prince dropped the washcloth he had been holding next to the water basin. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?”
I wrenched my gaze back up to his face. No staring at his chest, I admonished myself. Look at the dark stubble along his chin instead. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as dreadful as I had feared. “I am Lady Eleya Poinar. I’m here on behalf of my brother.”
“Your brother?” Prince Dmir grabbed the shirt tossed over the back of a nearby chair and slipped it on.
I watched skin disappear as he hastily buttoned the shirt. I wondered if he’d undo it again if I pointed out he had done the buttons askew. Given what I was here to discuss, I decided not to bother. I forced myself to look up once more. Tonight certainly wouldn’t be as bad as I had anticipated. The prince was hardly some odious old codger—he was barely a year older than I—but knowing it and seeing it so plainly on display were two different things.
Belatedly, I realized he wanted me to explain who my brother was. I needed to focus. “Makev Poinar. I know we haven’t been introduced, but you know Makev. Everyone knows Makev, really. But you played cards with him for a full evening, so you must certainly know him. Unless the gin affected you even worse than him.”
“I barely drank any.”
“Makes sense, what with you winning.”
“Lady Eleya, I know your brother, but that still does not explain your presence in my room.”
“I am here to make a deal with you, Your Highness. I want to resolve Makev”s debt myself.”
“Why can’t Makev pay? The Duke of Smagrav is one of the richest men in the entire empire.”
I heard the prince’s scorn and wondered what my father had done to earn it. I didn’t doubt for a moment he deserved it.
“Well, yes, but Makev isn’t the Duke of Smagrav, yet. He does not have access to those funds. And it would be unfortunate if Father learned Makev had lost so much money in a gaming hell.” Unfortunate was an understatement.
“But you can pay his debt?”
“Well, I can’t pay it with money. Father doesn’t allow me access to his fortune any more than Makev.” I swallowed, but it was easier to say the next words than I had expected. Seeing the prince half naked had given curiosity the upper-hand over nervousness. Though perhaps curiosity wasn’t the best description of the feeling sending warmth through my blood. “I am willing to negotiate terms to pay off the debt some other way.”
Prince Dmir didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“I’ll be honest, Your Highness.” I was always honest, actually, but he didn’t know that. “I am desperate enough to agree to pretty much anything. Please, name your terms.”
“No.”
Maybe he didn’t understand what I was offering—or didn’t believe I’d really make the offer. No point in being missish about saying the words, all things considered. I crossed my arms. “I’m saying I’ll sleep with you—as often as you deem necessary to pay the debt in full.”
Given the sum Makev had lost, the prince could demand quite a lot. I didn’t know how much a single night should be valued at, but even if he wanted more than seemed reasonable, I wouldn’t balk. I figured so long as he wasn’t cruel—and nothing I had heard about Prince Dmir implied he was—after the first time, what did it matter? If that’s what it took to protect my brother, then fine.
“I understood you, Lady Eleya. My answer is still no.”
“Listen, I know I’m not the most beautiful—”
“Stop.” He held up his hands as if to ward me off. “It’s forgiven. Your brother’s debt is forgiven. There.”
I frowned. “I know how much he lost. No one would just forgive a debt of that size. I’m not going to walk away so that you can come after him tomorrow.”
“I will sign a contract saying it is forgiven, if that is what you require.”
I wanted to help my brother, but I didn’t want the prince’s pity either. “No. I said I would pay it off, and I will. I just can’t pay it off in coin. If I’m too repulsive for your taste, fine, but I am not leaving until we reach an agreement.”
“I didn’t say you were repulsive.”
“I am practically throwing myself at you, but you would rather lose three thousand crowns than sleep with me. I can read between the lines.”
“I’d rather lose three thousand crowns I don’t even have than take advantage of you that way.”
I threw up my hands. “But I don’t have any other way to pay off the debt!”
“Then walk away. Consider the debt paid in full.”
“Debts don’t work like that, Your Highness. I will not walk away with the scales unbalanced between us.” My voice rose, desperation getting the better of me.
I had imagined so many outcomes to this evening. Meeting the prince—well, seeing him half-naked—had given me hope that resolving Makev’s debt might become something I enjoyed. But even in my worst-case scenarios, I hadn’t imagined Prince Dmir might refuse me completely. I couldn’t accept his offer to wipe out the debt, Balance take it. I fully admitted that pride meant I didn’t want his pity, but that wasn’t the reason I refused to walk away. Debts always end up being paid, one way or another. I’d rather pay this one on my terms.
My hands became fists at my sides. My fingernails dug into my palms. “You must let me work off the debt.”
The prince crossed his arms. “Are you afraid I’ll go back on my word? Is that why you won’t walk away?”
“It has nothing to do with your honor.” I knew he was telling the truth about forgiving the debt. But that wasn’t the point. My voice rose, frustration getting the better of me. “It has to do with Balance. Surely you understand the importance, Your Highness. Refuse my offer if you must, but don’t leave this debt weighing on me. Pretending it doesn’t exist won’t solve the problem.”
“And what will?” Dmir’s eyes were wide.
“Repaying the debt! There must be a way I can do so without repulsing you.”
“I’ll hire you as my secretary!” The prince was nearly shouting now, matching my volume.
The shock on his own face after the words spilled out was enough to make me stop and think before replying. I didn’t have the qualifications to be a secretary. I could read, of course. I even spoke several languages, including Ancient Koreini, but secretaries knew things. My best friend, Ketira, would have made an excellent secretary. She was scholarly enough—or she had been until her recent fervor to find a husband had taken over. But no one had ever lumped me in among the ranks of bluestockings. The position would be a sham, a way to placate me.
I supposed that wasn’t any worse than becoming the prince’s mistress in order to pay off the debt. It would even the scales, at least a little. On the other hand, Makev was more likely to notice my comings and goings during the day. He didn’t know about my plan to resolve his debt, and I’d rather it stayed that way. If he discovered what I was up to, he’d probably inform Father himself about the debt in order to pay it off. The risk of Father disowning him over losing the money was too great.
“I accept, but on one condition.”
Prince Dmir’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I don’t want you to publicize my new position. I can’t be seen as your new secretary.”
“You can’t . . . be seen?” The prince gaped at me. “You barged into my room in the middle of the night proposing to become my mistress, but you’re worried about people seeing you as my secretary?”
“It’s hardly the middle of the night.” There were at least a hundred people in the palace ballroom as we spoke, none of whom would think of retiring for hours yet. “That’s beside the point, though. If people find out I’m your mistress, they won’t wonder why. I mean, they might wonder why you would pick me, of all people, but they won’t wonder about my motivations.”
“Lady Eleya, you are the daughter of a duke. Why would you be any man’s mistress? Wouldn’t you expect a gentleman to offer you marriage instead?”
“You are a prince, not a mere gentleman.”
“I’m the younger, more boring prince.”
“And the only one within reach at present. Not that I’d ever consider an affair with Prince Kivan—he’s engaged, after all.”
“So, you do expect marriage.”
“What? No. It has nothing to do with the possibility of me marrying him. I wouldn’t do that to Princess Josyn. She has the right to expect fidelity from her fiancé.”
“I’m fairly certain she knows better than to expect that of Kivan.”
She probably did. The Lyran princess was no fool, and she would know how to interpret the crown prince’s surprise decision to tour Plumei’s overseas colonies months before she reached her majority. They had been engaged since childhood, but Prince Kivan fled before his mother could insist on their wedding.
“That’s not the point. I won’t be the woman tempting her fiancé to stray.” I frowned. “Why are we talking about me becoming your brother’s mistress?”
Dmir threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“Well, anyway, my point remains. People will wonder if I am suddenly working as your secretary. I don’t want to invite such scrutiny.”
“I won’t tell anyone, Lady Eleya.”
“Then we have a deal.”
“Where are youoff to this morning?” Makev yawned as he shuffled past me to the sideboard.
“The palace.” I paused on my way out of the room and went back to pour Makev a cup of tea. Maybe the kind gesture would be enough to keep him from asking any more questions.
No such luck.
“The palace? What business do you have there?”
“I forgot something last night at the ball.”
What I had forgotten was to ask Prince Dmir where or when he wanted me to start my new job as his secretary. He probably hoped I’d give up. He’d learn better soon. Lady Eleya Sonita Poinar did not give up.
It didn’t occur to Makev to wonder what I might have forgotten, or why I didn’t send a servant to fetch it. He took everything I said at face value. It always amused me that it was easier to deceive him, the one person who knew about my inability to lie, than anyone else.
I had told Makev about the korengal I had cast in order to sense lies within minutes of successfully wording the spell-prayer. It had taken months of research, experiments, and obliquely questioning Ketira (whose understanding of Ancient Koreini far surpassed mine) to craft a korengal the Watcher deemed Balanced enough to grant.
After being fooled by Nikolo Durenyi’s lies, I had considered the time and effort well spent.
At barely nineteen, I had thought myself so wise when I met Nikolo. When he claimed to have no interest in my family’s fortune, I had believed him. Not because I thought he was in love with me—I hadn’t fallen for any of the men clearly flattering me in hopes of getting their hands on a large dowry—but because Nikolo had never spoken of a future or deep feelings. I had believed his motivations to be honest, if not pure.
Then he approached my father in secret and claimed to have gotten me pregnant. Liaisons only raised brows among a certain set, but pregnancy? Among the nobility, pregnancy had to happen within the confines of a marriage. Which was why I had made sure I wouldn’t get pregnant while I was with Nikolo.
In the end, everything worked out for the best. Once his plan fell apart, Nikolo spread the word about how meager my dowry was. Two years later, and the fortune-hunters still never sought me out. I hadn’t known how effective Nikolo’s gossip would be at scaring them away at the time, though. I had developed the korengal that allowed me to detect lies so that I would never make such a mistake again.
After scores of unsuccessful attempts, I had shared my triumph with Makev immediately. I could no longer lie, and I needed to test the new ability I had received in exchange. Of course, I hadn’t told him how much wriggle room I had left myself. I could only sense outright lies, not prevarications or misdirections. To Balance that sense, I could not speak an outright lie, but I could prevaricate and misdirect with the best of them.
But to Makev, everything was black and white. He’d see me taking on his debt as black. So I didn’t tell him what I had truly forgotten at the palace.
“Hopefully, some other lady didn’t take it by mistake,” Makev said. He sat down to break his fast, and I set off for the palace.
Despite Father’s general stinginess, I had the use of a steam carriage whenever I needed one. He believed in maintaining appearances, and the Duke of Smagrav and his family must have the latest conveniences if anyone were to see them. If no one was about to see us, then the only person’s convenience that mattered was Father’s.
Not taking the carriage was harder than slipping past Makev without letting him know my true purpose. I convinced the servants that I wanted to walk, which was the truth only because walking prevented a driver from accompanying me.
I’d have to think of a better excuse if I wanted to continue meeting the prince without the entire household knowing my whereabouts. And everyone else in Taran, for that matter. The steam carriages were still few and far between, even in the capital of Plumei.
My first priority, however, was learning where to meet the prince to accomplish my duties as a secretary.
The walk from our house to the palace was not long. The cobblestone streets were wide and bright in this section of the city, and it was early enough that few carriages—steam or horse-drawn—passed me by. A breeze made the summer heat bearable, and I found I actually enjoyed the chance to stretch my legs. My excuse of wanting to walk would work a little longer if the activity remained pleasant.
I entered the palace grounds through a garden, allowing me to meander while I waited for someone to come into view. While I admired the dahlias just starting to bloom, a servant exited the palace. I set my course to intercept him.
“Excuse me, is Prince Dmir in residence currently?”
Asking a random servant probably wasn’t any better than announcing myself at the front door, but I had some small hope of keeping my new position as a secretary quiet this way. Explaining that development to my brother would test the limits of my ability to lie.
The servant looked at me with wide eyes. “I couldn’t say, my lady.”
Of course not. He couldn’t even give me a simple yes or no, which meant my korengal powered ability to sense the truth was useless. Either he didn’t know, or he wasn’t at liberty to divulge the whereabouts of the imperial family to random ladies in the palace gardens.
“Well, thank you.”
“Of course, my lady.”
He scurried away, and I waited for another servant to come out, not expecting any better results.
Walking around that garden, it felt like I made up for a month of sitting in steam carriages. The second servant was no more helpful than the first, and the morning was fast slipping away. It had taken an invitation to the imperial ball for me to get face-to-face with the prince the first time for a reason.
I decided to try one more servant before conceding defeat for the day. Not that I’d give up for good. If I had to, I’d knock on the palace doors myself. Hopefully, I could find another way before it came to that.
The next person to enter the grounds was not a servant. Princess Josyn spotted me before I could decide if her attention would be better or worse than knocking on the palace doors.
“Lady Eleya,” she called out, her voice without inflection, as usual. “What a surprise to find you here. Do you often tour the gardens?”
“No, Your Highness, but I’m beginning to think I should. I believe the dahlias will be particularly impressive once they are in full bloom.”
The princess closed the distance between us. “I’m partial to the peonies myself, but they are already done for the season. There’s something to be said for a flower that both looks and smells magnificent.”
“You have a point, Your Highness.”
“Dmir isn’t in the palace this morning,” Josyn told me, her expression never changing. No smugness at knowing my reason for visiting the garden. No delight in surprising me.
Most of the court called her the Ice Princess. Between her gray-blue eyes, and silver-blond hair, the name fit even without taking into account the way she never showed emotion. She was a princess of the neighboring Lyr, not Plumei, but she had been raised to be our next empress. She had lived in Taran for the past seven years. Once Crown Prince Kivan returned from his visit to our overseas colonies, they’d marry, and Josyn would be a princess of Plumei in truth. When the Empress died, Kivan would inherit the throne, but everyone knew Josyn would rule.
I had no idea what she thought of me seeking out her future brother-in-law.
“Did one of the servants mention my questions, or—” I cut myself off just in time. No need to volunteer details.
The princess actually smiled, a slight upward tilt at the corners of her mouth. “Or did I know you had been in his rooms last night?”
I winced.
“Dmir left the palace early this morning,” Princess Josyn told me, as if my presence in the prince’s room the night before meant nothing. Well, if she knew I had gone in, she probably knew I had come out again after too short a time to have done anything.
“Do you know where he went?”
“No.”
She was telling the truth, Balance take it.
“But I know how to find him.”
“You do? Will you . . . I mean, I’d greatly appreciate it if you would help me find him, Your Highness.”
“Of course.” She smiled once more, the expression subtle yet clear, and led the way down the paths to the palace. “I’m not actually made of ice, you know.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you’d want to help me chase down the prince.”
“On the contrary, it means that I am overjoyed to help you chase him down. I look forward to seeing him caught; he’s too serious for his own good.”
I blushed. “It’s not like that.”
Princess Josyn ushered me inside the palace. “Lady Eleya, you snuck into his bedroom last night.”
“And he wanted nothing to do with me.”
“He asked questions about you this morning.”
I looked at the princess in suspicion. I knew she had told the truth, but I still couldn’t believe it. “He did?”
“I think you made an impression on him last night.”
I laughed. “I guess you could say that. I certainly made sure he noticed me. I suppose it would be odder if he didn’t ask questions about me this morning. Let me guess, the first question was whether I am insane?”
Princess Josyn turned down a corridor lit only by a few shadow-lights up near the ceiling. A servant’s passage. “I believe it had something to do with your suitors, actually.”
I didn’t taste the bitterness of a lie when she spoke, and searched for a way she could be misleading me. “Do you mean he asked after my dowry?”
“Why would he care about your dowry?”
Because it told him exactly how much money I had to my name. It made more sense than him asking about my suitors—which were practically nonexistent, since my dowry was considerably smaller than expected for the daughter of the Duke of Smagrav. A connection to my father was supposed to balance out the paltry sum, but anyone who met His Grace wanted more money, not less, to be related to him.
The princess had a point, though. “I suppose he wouldn’t.”
Dmir would have no interest in securing my measly fortune through marriage. Despite his protestations about taking advantage, I was fairly certain fear of being trapped into a marriage had played the biggest role in making him turn down my original offer. I didn’t blame him for that. No one wanted to marry me after Nikolo trumpeted my pitiful dowry far and wide.
I was too average. Not plain, but not beautiful. My features were all forgettable, from my brown hair that was neither straight nor curly to my hazel eyes. Beyond the physical, I was still just average. Not foolish, but not witty. Not unconnected, but not rich. I was safe enough to have around to fill out a card table or ballroom—not a threat to my host’s daughters, and never one to cause a scandal. In short, I was boring.
I had never before done something as outrageous as I had last night. Maybe I had caught the prince’s attention, but I wouldn’t hold it for long. A handsome man in his early twenties, let alone one who was also an imperial prince, could find plenty of women more alluring than I without even trying.
We exited the servant’s passage, and I recognized the hallway. Prince Dmir’s room was around the next bend. Josyn took me to a door on the right instead.
“Mili,” Josyn called out as soon as she was through the door. “We have a guest.”
Another woman stepped into the sitting room from deeper inside the suite. She was dressed in charcoal gray with a touch of snowy white lace at her throat and cuffs. An apron cinched tight around her waist and a matching cap covered most of her hair. A lady’s maid, though she was to my maid what Princess Josyn was to a flower-seller. Mili no doubt had more power than I did at court, and she was certainly better informed than me.
The princess ignored the look her maid gave her. “Lady Eleya is trying to track down Dmir.”
I gaped. Gone was the Ice Princess. Even the small smiles she had given me in the garden were nothing compared to this. Her entire face was suddenly alight with mischief.
I looked over at Mili and discovered the maid had a similar expression. “Is she now?”
“I thought I should be a good future sister and make sure Dmir didn’t miss her.”
“Very thoughtful of you, Your Highness.”
I considered Mili for a moment. “Are you the reason Her Highness knew I had been in the prince’s rooms?”
The maid chortled. “The prince’s insistence on not keeping a regular valet has more to do with it than anything.”
“But if he doesn’t have a valet around, doesn’t that mean he’s less likely to be watched?”
“But a good valet would be loyal to him and keep any chatter to a minimum. Instead, the servants who tend him will gossip about anything they find interesting.”
“But there weren’t any servants around.”
Mili laughed harder. “Not that you saw. Trust me, there are always servants around.”
“So, which ones saw where Prince Dmir went this morning?”
The princess patted my hand. “That is the important question. Mili will find out.”
The maid sauntered over to the door. “Child’s play.”