Chapter Twenty-Eight
Analleia
The press of the weapons against my skin, secured within my clothing, brought me a sense of security and a level of comfort.
No one would know I hid five deadly knives within my silver-studded tulle skirt or had another laced into the corset of the crystal-embedded bodice. No one would even suspect.
Except maybe one.
Richard Wylan Athello, also known of old as Prince Alekvandor and brother to King Zaricor, had yet to make an appearance at the masquerade this evening.
I stared through my elegant blue mask embellished with lace and crystals, an array of feathers protruding from the top of it.
I had scoured the entire ballroom—twice—and dared to venture to secret rooms in the palace I should not have, but found no sign of him.
He was not at the ball tonight yet.
I fisted my hands in frustration. I needed to take care of this now. Tonight. But it wouldn’t do me or the plan any good if I couldn’t find him. Perhaps he was still in his room. If so, maybe I could break into it.
Valeris strode by in his shiny black suit.
I had been avoiding him all night, which hadn’t been difficult once I learned to keep an eye on his bodyguard’s whereabouts.
He left the ballroom, and I found myself following, unsure why.
I told myself I only wanted to know what he and his siblings were up to, and I had time for a brief diversion.
He hadn’t contacted me since I had spied on his sister.
I crept out of the ballroom, staying well behind but keeping him in sight. I frowned when I couldn’t place his bodyguard, Howland. I didn’t understand how he seemed to become invisible when he wanted to, considering his height.
Valeris headed toward the palace gates at a brisk pace, making it difficult to keep my movements nonchalant in my dress.
I decided to move parallel to him, watching him from the corner of my eye.
My curiosity grew when he left the palace grounds without an escort, but no one would recognize him in his mask.
A flash to the right alerted me to the location of his bodyguard, and my eyes narrowed.
That man was always with him, never leaving his side, like he feared the prince was in a constant state of danger and he was the only one capable of saving him.
His devotion went beyond the duties of a bodyguard.
People crowded the streets, some trying to hurry home but most in masks as the festivities extended down to the commoners. Banners and flickering torchlight decorated every street, musicians playing on corners and dancing breaking out everywhere, bodies pushing through the crowds.
The sea of masks threatened to drown me as I tried to stay parallel to Valeris, the costumes disorienting me.
What was he doing down here?
I picked up my pace, searching the bobbing heads to keep track of his black-and-silver mask, but he vanished into the crowd. When I couldn’t locate him, I found his bodyguard. He looked as lost as me. I shook my head.
“A pretty rose for the lady?” A smiling tinker eyed my costume as if deciphering the location of my coin purse.
I smiled warmly at him. “I prefer wildflowers, actually.”
He took on the most befuddled expression that I laughed, then immediately stopped.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed.
I stared at the world around me, basking in the joy radiating from the people. There had been festivals in our kingdom back home. We danced with the commoners as if there were no social class. My father conversed with the farmers as if they were equals. Our people loved my parents.
For a moment, staring out at the Paravellians in all their bliss, I could forget the last five years, the horrors of that awful night, to a time when things were simpler. When I didn’t have to think about tragedies a child should never have to experience.
Silver flashed on the opposite side of the street.
Valeris.
I worked my way through the crowd, trying to keep him in my sight, but I was always falling a little too far behind, never catching up. The press of bodies suffocated me as I pushed through them. Valeris disappeared into an alley ahead and I ducked into it, glad for the reprieve.
But he wasn’t there.
Darkness touched every part of the alleyway, a strong contrast from the life in the street. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, wariness rising within me, and I turned to go.
Someone pushed me up against the stone wall, cold steel pressed against my neck. Fear swarmed through me as I reached for my knife, prepared to fend off my attacker, but I hesitated. Valeris’s emerald-green eyes shone from behind his mask.
“Oh.” He eased up on the pressure of the blade as his voice shifted to indifference. “It’s you.” He sighed as if disappointed. “You can stop following me.”
“You recognized me so easily in a mask?” I asked, his compliment from the night before coming to mind.
“It’s not like you’re difficult to pick out in a crowd.”
What was that supposed to mean?
I quirked an eyebrow. “How did you know I was following you?”
One corner of his mouth crept up. “When you’ve been followed every day of your life you get a knack for it.”
He hadn’t moved away, which left him crowding me against the wall.
I pursed my lips, irritated he’d gotten the upper hand.
If I’d had better access to one of my knives, I would have stabbed first and asked questions later.
That wouldn’t have fared well for Valeris—or the questions it would raise about me.
“Did you think I was trying to rob you?” I asked.
“Or kill me.”
“You lost your bodyguard on purpose when you knew someone was following you?”
He shrugged. “He’s good at his job. He’ll catch up soon.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question, considering you’re the one who followed me?”
“Except I asked it first.”
“And you’re forgetting I’m a prince.”
The cold edge of the blade still pressed against my skin, and the heat of his body surrounded me.
“Then what will it be, Prince?” I asked. “Because while we’ve been arguing you seem to have forgotten you’re holding me at knifepoint, which can only be for one of two reasons.”
I leaned forward, tipping my face up till the cold metal dug into my throat and my lips were only a hairsbreadth away from his. He struggled to keep his focus on my eyes.
“Are you going to kiss me or kill me?”
Valeris jerked back like I’d slapped him.
The abrupt absence of his weight sent me stumbling forward, and I peered up at him, a laugh escaping my lips at his reaction.
He was not amused.
Pink tinged the skin above his clenched jaw, and he refused eye contact.
I brushed the dirt from the wall off my shoulders, and he twirled his dagger, slamming it back into its sheath.
I tried to hide my grin. “I didn’t realize—”
“Are you coming?” he cut me off, stalking back to the lively street.
My mouth hung open, confused by his mood swings and surprised he would let me tag along without further question—but I wasn’t about to argue.
I pushed my way through the crowd, keeping my focus trained on his dark red hair.
He led us into a bustling tavern, a wooden sign reading The Echoing Winds swinging above the door.
Guests gathered around the tables, a fiddler in the corner clashing with the musicians in the street playing for the dancers.
Valeris marched up to the counter, sliding several coins to the innkeeper.
“A jug of fresh cider, please.” Valeris dipped his head to me. “And whatever the lady would like.”
The lady?
I blinked, trying to read his expression. “I’ll have the same.”
Valeris peered at me, seeming surprised by my choice.
“No ale?” I asked.
“People in my position have a set of rules we’re expected to follow,” he said. “Number seven—don’t muddle your head in an uncontrollable environment or when the family name is on the line. If you need to outwit someone, keep it clear.”
That same rule didn’t seem to apply to his father, who I had seen drunk more often than not.
I had never tasted alcohol. I had been too young before my kingdom was destroyed, and a majority of the assassins in the tower took a vow of sobriety to never allow it the chance to alter their senses on an important mission or compromise their secrets and identities. A loose tongue was a dangerous tongue.
Desmond held no such sentiments and did as he pleased.
Valeris chose a table at the far wall that offered a clear view of the entire room.
“See, Howland has already found me.”
Howland stood to the right of the door. I hadn’t seen him step in. A dark scowl marred his face as his gaze found us then returned to scanning the tavern.
Everyone wore masks the same as us, identities hidden behind feathers and lace. A barmaid plopped our drinks on the table. I stared at mine for a moment before taking a sip, but Valeris immediately gulped half of his down.
“Why do you come down to this part of the city?” I asked curiously.
He studied me for a moment as if deciding whether or not to answer. His cup landed back on the wood with a thud. “Come and see.”
He pushed his seat back and rose, sauntering over to a table packed with a group of men where he pushed his way onto a stool at the edge. I followed but chose to sit on a nearby bench. Far enough away to not be noticed but close enough to listen.
“Evening, gents.” Valeris slipped into an accent that made him sound as if he was from southern Paravellia. He eased right into their group as if he drank here every night, and the men accepted him without question, drawing him into the conversation as if he were an old friend.