Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
EVIE
A glittering golden corridor greeted us.
The floors shined like a mirror, the ceiling was embossed with statues and butterflies, and a sweet jasmine scent floated from every small hallway spidering away from the main path, each with its own web of rooms and corridors.
A sparkling labyrinth, nothing more and definitely nothing less.
“This is just Zavoya’s wing in the palace?” I asked, my voice echoing back on an endless loop.
“ One of her wings,” was all Leesa said. She kept clenching and unclenching her fists.
I wasn’t the only one on a mission today–she had her own task and I didn’t envy her one bit.
We reached the huge double doors at the end, crafted from wrought gold and stained glass so thick and vivid, I could only see shadows beyond it.
I stared as the seconds ticked by.
“It should have opened by now,” Leesa whispered.
That wasn’t a good omen. “Should we knock or…?”
The doors opened, a fresh wave of jasmine washing over us. The corridor had been cold, lifeless luxury, created more to intimidate than to be welcoming.
But this room–atrium?–was a warm nest.
It was a garden teeming with life, away from the guards and the silence of Phoenix Peak.
No line was straight here, from the winding white walls–which gave the entire space a feel of a cocoon–to the oval stained windows, and the endless couches curving around the trees and shrubs that sprung up from the floor. There were butterflies and birds flying between them, for gods’ sake.
Everything moved slowly in this timeless garden, including the people who glittered and laughed, strolling around without a care in the world. Women in emerald dresses and men with sapphire robes ate ruby sugars, lounged underneath the purple flowers of the empress trees, and gathered around tables to watch games of cards and tallys, cheering their preferred champions.
People drew and danced and frolicked and it felt so inviting.
A trap.
Like any good snare, it hid its lead well–but not well enough for my trained gaze.
I noticed the whispered gossip behind peacock fans and the narrowed eyes when someone laughed too loudly.
A viper’s den parading as a nest.
I squared my shoulders and made my entrance in all my golden glory. As expected, all eyes turned my way, sizing me up; I hated how they lingered on my crown. Unexpectedly , everyone smiled. Even the few Sages present deigned a small smirk. They were easy to spot–they wore their pointed hats inside as well. Wouldn’t want anyone mistaking them for common folk, now would they?
All the grins were cold and calculated, though. I met them all with that same detached smirk I was beginning to use too often.
Time to shine, eyes open, and nerves in check.
We hadn’t come here for tea.
We were on the hunt.
Find the weak spot.
Use it.
Leesa and I shared a quick nod just as one of the most bejeweled women stepped forward, batting her red eyelashes, which clearly had too many fur hairs glued in them.
“Lady Valesya, owns half the garment district,” Leesa whispered.
“Your Highness, such a surprise,” Lady Valesya tinkled in a tone that was clearly rehearsed.
Her icy blue eyes scanned me, lingering on my hairpin ravenously. Greed was plain to observe, easy to use.
She wasn’t a good target, though. Her status at court was obviously secure enough that she would approach me first. If greed was indeed her poison, the advisors would always have more gold than I could ever count.
“And such an entrance,” she went on. “I see you finally favor Blood Brotherhood silks. They have a certain elegant quality that’s hard to find in other lands, don’t they?”
Translation: Blood Brotherhood clothes were better than my lousy Protectorate garbs–which she hadn’t even seen to compare.
Leesa had trained me for such an exchange.
“Talking at court is like a sport,” Leesa had warned me. “Parry, don’t attack unless you absolutely have to.”
“No, it’s like going into battle, but harder,” Adara had grumbled. “Blocking a sword coming straight for your head is one thing, fighting with words and smiles is despicable. But necessary among that lot. They’ll test you. Do not let them walk all over you. Make them believe you hold their fates in your royal hand, but don’t make an enemy of them. Yet.”
“Yes, this dress was bought from your shops, I understand. You have exquisite taste,” I said. “Though I imagine elegant fabrics are a hard sell during war–at least if you don’t have a constant demand from the court and everyone in the royal family.”
Even Adara would have approved of that veiled threat, even if the words left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Quite astute, Your Highness.” Lady Valesya inclined her head, smile widening until the edges of her lips twitched. “We are grateful for the royal support, even in these trying times.”
It was obvious she’d never experienced a trying time in her life, but I nodded all the same, already searching for the next target–which happened to be someone named Lord Valenthir, a brewery owner past his prime, who had too much of a wandering eye, according to Leesa’s rushed whisper.
“Your Highness, such a sight for sore eyes,” he said, breath reeking of the amber liquid he swished in his glass. I didn’t like or appreciate the way his rheumy eyes fixated on my chest. “I imagine you’re worried sick with The Dragon gone. Having your husband off to war can get quite lonely.”
“Not at all, Lord Valenthir. I spend my days training.” I flicked my switchblade open for added emphasis, raising my wrist to show off the bracelet. “ A gift from my h-husband–” I said, choking a bit on the word. “–to make sure I’m always protected against unwanted attention.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as Valenthir scurried away, wobbling as he went to pour himself another glass. He couldn’t help us, either. A sleazy drunk in court was a Clan liability, but not a true weakness.
I huffed an impatient sigh. Mingling was definitely not my forte, and I still had to speak to the queen, who sat at the back of the enormous room.
“That’s Lady Isalyth,” Leesa muttered as another woman sauntered our way. She’d been standing to the side, ignored by her pompous peers. Her teeth were eerily white and straight. “She’s Lord Beryn’s niece–and the city’s worst gossip.”
The one who wanted to take over the printing press. The same press which printed lies about me.
My brows rose. Lady Isalyth was older than I’d imagined, on the last end of her forties, and the maroon dress she wore did her no favors; the golden jewels on her cuff had obviously been restitched enough times to warp the fabric. She might have her family’s title, but apparently not the fortune.
She greeted me with a small bow–it was a better show of respect than anyone else at court had paid me.
“Your Highness, an honor to meet you. I heard of your heroics the other night,” she whispered, calculating eyes trained on my face and reactions.
I narrowed my eyes, the smirk not leaving my face.
This Lady Isalyth wanted something–luckily, I did, too.
“Some called it a spectacle,” I said evenly.
“The pamphlet?” Isalyth waved an elegant hand. “A remnant of the old ways. There are better sources out there, if one looks for them.”
She must have been desperate for any scrap of power to test the waters like this.
“As the future king’s wife, I wouldn’t bother with them, anyway,” she went on.
I could do some testing of my own. “Second wife.”
Isalyth didn’t skip a beat. “I was the second born and only daughter of my dear departed parents, who had such high hopes for my brother and focused so much of their attention on him. He was supposed to take over the family business, but I’m the only one left standing, sadly,” Isalyth said, not sounding sad at all. “Apart from my uncle, of course, he might outlive us all. Those daily walks he takes, the only time he leaves the press, must help. Life is strange like that, is it not?”
“Depends on what you mean by strange.”
“Full of surprises.” She ran a hand down her fan, which had a few missing feathers and lowered her voice. “I was surprised to see the prince leaving with you after the wedding, and not the Jewel of the Blood Brotherhood.”
I tensed as the air around us crackled. I didn’t yet know if this was a threat, so I remained silent.
“That little tidbit didn’t make it into the pamphlet, of course.” Isalyth laughed. “Whoever’s in charge of it–a mystery for the ages, really–doesn’t have the best sources within the court, it seems. They weren’t paying enough attention.”
“But you were.”
“I always am.” Her determined gaze locked with mine for the briefest moment, before settling on the people around us, who paid her no mind. “Being ignored has its benefits.”
“A very valuable skill–when used properly.”
“Or when I’m allowed to use it. I need my own sources to be successful, of course.”
I tightened my jaw. Even Leesa fidgeted behind me.
“I suppose it depends on the information you’re looking for,” I said slowly.
“The kind that would make that pamphlet truly old news.” Isalyth shrugged. “One can dream.”
“Some dreams come to fruition. I have a feeling yours might, too,” was all I said before we shared a small nod and parted ways like nothing had happened.
Yet my skin had turned clammy underneath my silks and my heart beat too fast.
“Adara was right.” I loosed a heavy breath as I hurried away. “This is worse than fighting.”
Leesa rushed after me. “Is she–?”
“No.” Isalyth could be useful, but definitely not the weak link, and I’d be a fool to trust the city’s worst gossip. “Keep looking.”
“Not them.” Leesa nodded at two Sages sitting near the back; they seemed caught in a heated, muttered conversation. “Beryn and Doryn. Their loyalty to the advisors is the least of their faults.”
No surprise there. Not even Isalyth liked her uncle, who seemed oddly spritely for his age. He wasn’t dying anytime soon–must have been why she’d risked propositioning me, however veiled. Beryn had also sat as close to the queen’s dais as possible, without attracting attention.
That would complicate my plan.
My feet were killing me, the numbing salve’s effects waning. I grimaced as I scanned the room like a hungry wolf in the dead of winter. I might have seemed like the prey to some of them, but they’d only find claws and fangs. My gaze snagged on a woman no older than me. She was hard to miss, even as she stood awkwardly in the shadows next to a large platter of rainbow sugars. She had thin, sneering lips, and narrowed her eyes at all the people who passed without greeting her. Her hair was too coiffed, her jewels glistened too brightly, and her sparkling dress was irreverently tight. She even wore a tiara, for gods’ sake.
All the money, none of the court manners–or the wisdom to hide that.
When she raised her empty glass and snapped her fingers at her attendant, my smirk grew. “Who’s that?”
“Petrylla. Well, now Lady Petrylla, I suppose. She married the Port Master a few days after your own wedding. It caused quite the scandal.”
Sometimes, the gods threw the dice in just the right way. “Pretend you’re getting me some sugars and talk to her attendant. I’ll distract Beryn.”
As Leesa hurried through the roses bushes, I quickened my steps toward the platform in the back.
Queen Zavoya sat on a fluffy dais, too absorbed in her game of tallys to notice my approach. She threw her arms in the air laughing, as her attendants clapped excitedly around her. The queen had won three games too many since we’d arrived.
This court was truly a perfect trap.
“Your Majesty,” I said warmly and loudly, making a show of bowing just like Leesa had taught me.
Zavoya smiled so warmly at me, I almost felt guilty for what I was about to do.