Chapter 24
CHAPTER
Twenty-Four
The Spanish Hall, grand in its own right, with its high stuccoed ceiling, large arched windows and golden chandeliers, had been transformed into a frosted vignette.
Shimmering white-silver stars were scattered on the parquet flooring like ripples across an enchanted lake.
Snowdrops bloomed in an intricate display over the walls, each flower bearing a waxen dew-drop of candlelight, and waiters dressed as fir trees wandered through the hall, offering branches laden with goblets and bewitching treats.
It couldn’t have been more enchanting if it had been magical.
‘Will you do me the honour?’ Malek held his hand out, smiling as he watched Thea take everything in.
She laid her hand in his, ignoring the guilt snarling in her stomach that she was here, enjoying herself, while the Magic Quarter had been cast into disarray. ‘Of course.’
An orchestra of musicians played a waltz.
Malek led Thea to the centre of the hall, where guests were dancing, their gowns and suits and masks a jewellery box of riches.
One woman’s cream skirts whirled like a dandelion clock.
Another person wore a cloak of feathers.
Thea’s dress echoed the sweet harmonies of the orchestra as Malek’s arm came to rest around her waist, and, with another flash of that wide smile, waltzed her around the hall.
As they danced, Thea noticed a masked gentleman on the far side of the ballroom, staring at her hard enough to make her pinken beneath her mask.
He was dressed smartly in black, with silver buttons that shone like icing.
Even amidst such a crowd, his wardrobe, his height, his presence, were striking. A star in a room of clouds. Jasper.
Each time Malek whirled her around, Thea’s eyes clashed against Jasper’s.
He watched her over the rim of his glass, in a way that made Thea conscious of the way she moved, of Malek’s hand in the small of her back, of how her gown sang out in joy.
Perhaps it was risky wearing it to a non-magical place but the orchestra covered it nicely.
‘Please excuse me,’ Malek murmured to Thea as the dance wound to a close, nodding to someone over her shoulder she couldn’t see. ‘I shall return shortly.’ He gestured at the nearest waiter, heavily laden with marzipan robins. ‘I suggest you peruse the offerings.’
‘Don’t take too long or that might prove to be dangerous,’ Thea laughed, covering her unease with a smile. Was Jasper here because he knew she’d failed to take an immense price? Had she really torn the Magic Quarter apart by being too soft-hearted for the power she wielded?
With a press of her hand, Malek departed the dancefloor.
Thea went to stand beside one of the windows, watching the dancers couple up as the opening strains to a minuet sounded.
A waiter offered her a caramel bonbon. A second cut in with a branch of ruby-red macarons, as if he was competing for her attention.
She bit into each so as not to disappoint either waiter.
Jasper materialised in front of her. ‘May I have this dance?’ His voice was cut from velvet as rich as his mask and every bit as dark. She didn’t need bonbons or macarons when the words falling from his mouth were silken as chocolate.
‘No.’ She glared at him. ‘You have some nerve asking me after the last time we spoke.’
‘Theodora.’ Jasper’s throat tensed. ‘Forgive me, I couldn’t resist. You are exquisite in gold. A rare gem indeed.’
Thea’s heart-spell thrashed behind her ribs. Jasper’s remark on learning Malek had sent her a gown echoed through her head: You should be in gold, as radiant as the sun.
‘It was you! You sent me this gown.’
Jasper said nothing. No, that was untrue. Though he did not speak aloud, the way in which he regarded her said everything.
‘How dare you? I have no wish to be standing here, wearing your guilt.’
Regret wisped over Jasper’s face. ‘My apologies. I meant it only as a gift.’
‘It was inappropriate.’
With Jasper’s mask concealing half of his face, it drew attention to his mouth, those full lips .
. . Thea’s memories scalded her with the knowledge of how they felt pressed against hers.
How he tasted. Like the winter wind as it cut through the forest. Her cheeks flushed.
Ridiculous, for a woman in her thirties to be blushing like a young girl; she had never felt such awkwardness with Malek.
As if hiding a guilty secret, she cast a glance to where she’d seen him vanish. He was nowhere to be seen.
‘Dance with me,’ Jasper commanded. ‘There are things that I must tell you. I came here tonight for you, Theodora.’
Thea hesitated, then placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her into the minuet.
‘It was ungallant of Malek to abandon you at a ball,’ Jasper commented.
‘I do not need nor want your advice on the matter,’ Thea snapped.
‘I am not your responsibility.’ It mattered not if Jasper danced the way he strode into the apothecary, assured and commanding.
Nor if his arm secured her against him as if they belonged together.
‘And if I am to wed and have a family of my own . . . I’m running out of time.
Malek may be my only option. Besides which—’
Jasper stopped abruptly. The couples surrounding them veered away, flowing on through the ballroom. Jasper stared at Thea. ‘You would wed him?’
‘If he would have me.’ Thea held her chin high, meeting his stare.
A vein pulsed in Jasper’s neck.
‘You do not know me, Jasper,’ Thea said. ‘Knowing my true name, the life I gave up, does not mean that you know me.’
Jasper’s face shuttered. ‘Apparently not.’ He resumed their dance, plunging back into the stream of dancers to continue the minuet.
‘It vexes you, does it not?’ Thea asked softly. ‘That you cannot choose who I spend my time with, that you have no notion of what I might say or do next.’
‘Yes.’ Jasper’s throat moved up and down as he swallowed, a galaxy of meaning contained in that single word.
‘It vexes me.’ His voice was throaty, raw in a way Thea was unused to hearing.
It gave her pause. It was almost as if he .
. . cared. She knew he had admired her: that had been plain from each of their kisses, the way that the tension, the heat had scored deeply through them, sending them crashing into each other’s arms. But this spoke of something more.
His gaze dropped to her neck and caught there, as if he’d become tangled in the necklace she wore.
As if he remembered it, when she herself did not.
‘What was I to you?’ Thea asked.
Jasper reared back, breaking their dance apart. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Before you took my heart and memories, what was I to you? Was I just another customer, or did you know me? Did you . . . care for me?’
Jasper went still. ‘What could I have possibly done to give you the impression that you meant anything to me? Yours was just another deal. One of the hundreds I have forged in Prague alone.’
Thea’s throat thickened. ‘Hundreds?’
Jasper inclined his head.
Thea bent closer to whisper in his ear. ‘If there are hundreds, why are you always paying such close attention to me? Or are you that wealthy, that you have gowns sent to each recipient of your deals?’ She stepped back, surveying those dark blue eyes, shadowed with secrets.
‘What did you come to tell me?’ she asked.
‘Though if it’s the rift cutting through the Magic Quarter, I already know.
It occurred just as we were leaving for the ball. ’
‘The wards have fallen,’ Jasper told her.
‘I came to warn you. Whoever has been threatening you will be able to walk into the Magic Quarter now. Heloise will be able to take whatever she wants. You need to take care. Stay close to Zofka and Talibah until I can figure out a way to reinstate the wards.’
His words sent freezing fog down Thea’s spine. Was this her fault? Did he know? She worried at her lip. And where was Malek? She scanned the ball for him, spotting a familiar figure just as the doors opened and closed again, swallowing him. Where was he going?
‘Thea—’ Jasper began.
‘I’m not Thea,’ she whispered. ‘I never have been. And I don’t need you, nor your warnings.’
Channelling every last shred of a confidence she did not feel, she sauntered off, her gown humming a rousing aria as if she were a budding heroine in an adventure novel.
It was covered by the orchestra so she alone heard, but it boosted her confidence.
Still, she couldn’t resist glancing back.
Jasper had frozen in place, a single hand resting against his heart as if Thea had pierced straight through it with her words.
Her satisfaction eroded. It was chased with frustration; she refused to sympathise with her heart-thief.
Dancers engulfed Jasper as Thea navigated towards the doors Malek had slipped through.
She left the Spanish Hall, her gown hushing to a golden murmur as she searched for Malek.
There. His powdered wig bobbed past a window.
He was in a large courtyard on the other side of the ballroom.
Lifting her skirts, Thea lightly ran outside, chasing his path.
When she emerged in the courtyard, she caught sight of Malek .
. . and Pan Novak. The pair were walking towards each other with purpose, and as Thea ducked out of sight behind a fountain with an ostentatious ice swan, she caught them exchange a folded slip of paper with a brief nod before passing on.