Chapter Twenty-Seven
Valeris
The fifth, or the masked ball, remained the unofficial favorite of the seven.
The cooks and bakers outdid themselves on the extravagant spreads they prepared, and the decorations rose to another level.
Hidden behind their masks, guests could pretend to be whoever they wanted for the night.
Down in the city townsfolk dressed up, some in fancy costumes and others as characters from well-known tales or folklore.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. The seamstress possessed a nasty habit of overdoing the royal family’s costumes, but she was brilliant at her craft.
The black suit fit me well, the hem barely covering the top of my polished boots.
The collar was a little scratchy with the silver feathers fanning out onto the dark fabric, but everything else was surprisingly comfortable.
While my pants and base shirt were completely dark, my jacket was infused with silver stitching, a swirling design twisting up the arm sleeves and curling down the back.
It flashed in the torchlight. Too much for my taste, but the seamstress wouldn’t have it any other way.
I rubbed black around my eyes until I looked like a raccoon and then picked up my black mask and secured it in place.
It covered the upper half of my face, leaving the bottom part exposed.
Silver crystals swirled across the mask, and feathers outlined the upper edge.
I knew after ten minutes I would want to shred it into a million pieces, but I enjoyed it in the moment.
I strolled out into the hall, ignoring Howland as he fell into step behind me.
He was so constantly there I sometimes forgot about him.
Seven feet tall yet he walked like a ghost. Once I exited the royal apartments he would remain in close range but fade into the background, although he couldn’t exactly blend in.
People knew who he was there to protect.
If someone did try to attack me tonight, he might let them get the first punch.
He was still angry with me. But better than furious—which was what he’d been when he had returned with the pastry I had asked for last night to find my room empty.
Reckless and stupid were two of the many words in his vocabulary he had chosen to use, but I had tuned him out after the first few sentences.
Howland didn’t speak much, but when he saved up his words, he knew how to use them—and I had deserved them.
There was an unspoken rule between us that I would never go anywhere without his presence.
I had obeyed that rule for years until last night. Guilt pricked at me for the betrayal.
“I know you’re too angry to accept an apology right now,” I said over my shoulder. “But I am sorry, Howland.”
He harrumphed.
That was the most I would get out of him for a while. In reality, I was surprised he had graced me with an acknowledgment at all.
Music drifted down the corridor, beckoning excited souls to come bask in its warmth. The lively melody carried with it a deep undertone of mystery.
I worked my way to the main ballroom, stopping at the entrance to take in everything.
Masked guests milled about in elaborate costumes, their designs ranging from simple coverings to small lacy masks, to masks connected to headdresses three feet tall.
I failed to see the reasoning behind that torture.
Nor would I want to be their necks in the morning.
Identifying the attendees was either easy or impossible, but I could pick out many people by their mannerisms alone.
Zandyr was dressed as a burning ember, his suit a mixture of blacks, grays, and smoky oranges, his mask fanned around his face in billowing flames.
Ezrielle wore a thin lace mask, making her hardly in disguise as it hid little of her face.
The spies I had assigned to tail her hadn’t come up with anything substantial yet, but she was playing a bigger hand.
She was a little too good at covering her tracks—or paying off others to cover them for her.
I fixed my eyes on the steelmaster; I wanted to negotiate a better deal with him than Zandyr had.
We needed more weapons for our armory, and at a lower cost. I engaged him in conversation, negotiating him around to the terms of our agreement, promising him we would send our best captains up to his country for training.
He was far too easy to convince, and a smug smile graced my lips as I walked away.
I would have to wait for the next ball to secure the next alliance.
The seventh ball would be when my father announced his new successor.
“Evening, brother.”
Zandyr sauntered up beside me, but I ignored him.
“I believe it’s customary to follow up that greeting with an evening in return,” he added.
I shrugged. “Just practicing for when I’m king one day. Not having to fake meaningless niceties might be my favorite part about wearing the crown.”
“Planning your coronation already, are we?”
“The coronation has been taken care of. It’s the reign I’m more concerned with.”
He turned to me. “And I’m assuming you’ve thought about who you want to rule beside you? You seem to have taken quite an interest in that Kallistar girl. What is it she has to offer you?”
I bristled but tried to keep my demeanor calm. I lifted an eyebrow. “Kallistar girl?”
Zandyr grinned, and I regretted playing dumb.
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten her, the girl I was dancing with at the third ball that you cut in for?
Can’t say she’s easy to forget. You seemed quite taken with her in that dress.
I’ve seen you with your dalliances, not sure how you even managed those with your prudish tendencies, but I can tell this one is different. ”
My throat bobbed. She was nothing more to me than an alliance that happened to have a pretty face.
But I needed to be careful—especially if Zandyr had picked up on our interactions.
I clapped a hand on his shoulder, leaning in. “At least we know one thing for certain—she definitely prefers me over you.”
He clenched his jaw, and I smirked, moving away. One of the servants carried a tray of pastries past me and I threw a longing glance at it. Howland would put a knife through my hand if I reached for one.
I frowned. If Analleia’s friend hadn’t tried to use actual poison on my uncle, it was possible the food was safe, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.
I side-eyed another tray of pastries. It would almost be too easy to assassinate me if someone wanted to.
Anyone who knew anything about me knew I possessed a weak spot for sweets.
I paused.
Did Analleia know that?
My eyes snapped up. I had yet to see her at the ball this evening, but I might not be able to pick her out in the crowd. She had startled me in my room last night, sidestepping my questions, and it was unnerving how she’d managed to sneak in without any of the guards noticing.
I circled my way through the ballroom, venturing into the smaller rooms but not finding any sign of her.
I scowled, confused at my irritation, but it was of no consequence whether or not she was here.
I had somewhere else to be tonight.