Chapter Ten

“Just one dance,” Ophelia keeps repeating softly, as if to encourage herself.

She has been pacing nonstop since we entered the reception hall. Her hands are shaking a little. She keeps putting them on her stomach as if she needs to remind herself to breathe. Erin is already giving her worried looks. But as her guard, her place is in the back.

“It won’t be so bad,” I try to cheer Ophelia up, even though I feel at least as tense as she does.

I don’t belong here. Despite the dress Ophelia lent me, I feel like I don’t fit in, like I’m a brightly colored dot in a mass of gray.

The King’s warning still echoes in my mind. I will not tolerate sin in my palace. If even one of those present knew what I had done… If the king found out…

Instinctively, my eyes are drawn to the tall man in a gray suit and black polished shoes. King Henry is engrossed in a conversation with the parents of Lord Ernest Diligence. He hasn’t noticed his daughter yet, whose attention is being monopolized by an older couple. The gray-haired lady curtsies so low that she almost loses her balance. While the three exchange pleasantries, I let my gaze wander around the room.

It is a contradictory sight—the hall with its shiny tiles and large windows, trying to look festive but not pompous. The guests in their gray suits and dresses, looking as if they’re afraid to stand out from the crowd.

A woman gives Ophelia a disparaging look. The princess has decided to wear a pantsuit tonight. It’s not against the law, but it’s an unusual choice for a woman. I wonder why the king lets her get away with it. He doesn’t strike me as the type of father to be defied.

I borrowed the tulle skirt that Ophelia was wearing when we first met. She would have preferred to put me in a long silk dress, but I was just barely able to prevent that.

Erin comes to stand beside me.

“That’s him, back there,” she says quietly, nodding toward a window at the opposite end of the hall.

Who, I want to ask, but it becomes clear once I follow her gaze.

It’s Lord Ernest Diligence.

He stands a little apart from everyone else. Everything about him seems rigid and he looks lost. If he wasn’t wearing the dark blue sash that distinguishes him as a member of the nobility, he could almost be mistaken for a lanky kitchen boy.

“He’s at least two years younger than Ophelia,” I whisper to Erin.

The guard shrugs.

“The king doesn’t care. All he ever cares about is money and the family bloodline. He’s been patient with Ophelia so far, but one day that will end. Then he’ll force her into a marriage with some rich paragon of virtue. ”

She screws up her face in disgust at the last words.

She sounds sad. I smile warmly at her.

“Today is not that day.”

Doubt flashes in Erin’s eyes. I wonder what it must feel like to like someone so much that the idea of losing them to someone else breaks your heart. Is that what love is?

I’ve never been in love. Back on the farm, there was a boy who used to bring us milk. We sometimes talked, and once he touched my hand. When I grow up, I’m going to marry you, he said to me, and his chest swelled with conviction. The idea that he might really ask scared me. I didn’t want him to touch me again. Back then, I couldn’t imagine ever longing to be close to anyone.

And now? Now there’s Caden.

Caden who keeps creeping back into my thoughts. His hand on my waist, the warmth of his body next to mine as we walk through the East End.

I shake my head, as if that might get rid of my unwanted thoughts. He’s a sin mage. He’s dangerous. And he’s put me in a hopeless position. One, I admit, that I’m partly to blame for. To try and compare this tangle of emotions to what’s going on between Ophelia and Erin is ridiculous. I’m a little confused after everything that’s happened. But who can really blame me?

The murmur of voices abruptly dies down as King Henry steps onto a dais at the head of the hall. All eyes turn to him. Ophelia has finished her conversation with the elderly couple and comes to stand beside me and sighs softly.

“Here comes another one of his speeches. Prepare yourself,” she whispers, rolling her eyes.

The king clears his throat as his gaze glides vigilantly over the crowd. The room’s completely silent. It’s so quiet that I hardly dare to move for fear that my skirt might rustle.

“Loyal citizens of Virtue,” the king begins. “We are gathered here today to remember the path of virtue.”

And here I thought we were here because the king wants to fix up his daughter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell Ophelia’s thinking the same thing.

“The path is what keeps us from evil,” the King continues in a dignified voice. “Never again must we let sin enter our hearts. Our ancestors did, and they bitterly regretted it in the end. We look back on a sad past. During the riots, many lives were lost. And it is only because of our discipline and self-control that we managed to put down those insurrections.”

“He’s always so overdramatic,” Ophelia complains quietly.

An elderly gentleman turns around and gives the princess a reproachful look. I don’t think he heard what she said, but it’s bad enough that she opened her mouth during the king’s speech. It’s disrespectful, even if she is his daughter. I wish Ophelia would just keep quiet and stop drawing attention to us.

My foster mother talked about the riots sometimes. She was a young woman then—some forty years ago. At the time, Virtue was still called London and sin was a constant companion of the people. No one thought anything of it when people kissed in the open or an angry child shouted at its mother. There were restaurants where gluttony was practiced and gambling halls where greed was a daily business.

Then sin mages all over the world revealed themselves after having lived in secret for a long time. Of course they were greeted with suspicion, but for a while it seemed that peaceful coexistence was possible.

But then everything changed.

No one knows who cast the first stone. Maybe a few sin mages got carried away. Perhaps the humans distrust was too great after all. There were deaths on both sides, and the riots started. Violence reigned in the streets; shops were looted, victims of sin magic as well as dead sin mages thrown into the Thames. No one was safe anymore.

It took new laws and the suppression of all sin for the humans to regain control. The sin mages were pushed back to the East End. The riots were stopped, but the fear remained. And what was once London became Virtue.

All this was long before my time, but the pictures in books and old newspapers, the eyewitness accounts, and especially the stories told to me by my foster mother are burned into my memory. As the king speaks, all of it is playing in my mind.

King Henry clenches his hand into a fist and shakes it. As the speech progresses, his voice swells and the crowd hangs onto his every word.

“Loyal citizens, we must not think ourselves safe. Outside the borders of Virtue, war still rages. A war that can only be won when we stop all sin. When we play by the rules and see to it that others do the same. Only together are we strong. For a sinless Virtue!”

Applause erupts. I join in.

“For a sinless Virtue!” some repeat.

Someone shouts, “Hear, hear!”

Ophelia does not clap. Her gaze is fixed on Lord Ernest Diligence, who nods as he applauds eagerly.

“What a dweeb,” she says.

I’m not sure what to make of the speech. By and large, I agree with the king, even if I have broken rule after rule in recent days. We can only protect ourselves from the sin mages if we walk the path of virtue. Ophelia’s attitude about all this seems dangerous to me. First the croissant, then the innuendos between Erin and her, and now she’s making fun of the King’s speech. Who would have thought that the princess, of all people, would stab her own father in the back?

After the king’s speech, drinks are served. The water is infused with herbs that are supposed to be good for your health. I think it’s a small concession to the taste buds of the guests, even if no one here would ever publicly admit it.

Ophelia empties a glass in hasty gulps and then rushes across the room toward Lord Ernest Diligence, who seems downright intimidated by her demeanor. Since I can hardly follow the princess around like a puppy, I stand somewhat lost at the fringe of the crowd. The first guests have started to dance. I watch them curiously.

I’ve never attended a ball. It’s something that only the upper echelons of society do. It looks strange to me how the dancers move in step and twist and turn, all with their arms folded behind their backs. Some of them are so focused it’s almost comical.

One of the women makes a wrong move and grazes the arm of her dance partner. It’s only a brief touch, but I feel like I’m experiencing it firsthand. A strange warmth creeps along my skin.

By now Lord Ernest Diligence and Ophelia have also stepped onto the dance floor, but unlike Erin, who is standing at the edge with her hands balled into fists, I pay them no attention. Something pulls me toward the couple, who are out of step with the music.

The woman has beautiful hazel eyes. She gives the man dancing with her a small, conspiratorial smile. Again, their arms graze. Now I’m almost certain it’s intentional.

They want to touch each other.

A tingling spreads through my body—a tension that becomes more tangible with every breath. The woman licks her lips furtively, swallows. The man takes a step closer to her. I do the same, only realizing I’ve stepped on the dance floor when Ophelia turns to me and gives me a confused look.

“Kaya, is everything all right?”

“Yes,” I reply, but instead of backing away, I just stop.

My legs won’t obey me. I blink in a daze. My skin tingles. Ophelia says something, but her voice seems to come from far away.

What’s happening?

The man and the woman are standing very close together now. Too close. That’s improper.

Someone clears their throat. More and more heads turn in the direction of the dancing couple. Ophelia’s attention shifts from me to them. I wrap my arms around my body, which feels like it’s on fire.

And then the woman wraps her hands around the man’s neck, pressing her body against his. The moan that escapes my throat is lost in the startled gasps of the crowd.

I feel dizzy and close my eyes. Black dots dance behind my eyelids.

Shouting.

“What are you doing?!”

“Have you no decency!”

“Sinners in our midst!”

What’s happening? What’s wrong with me?

I press my hands to my temples and try to breathe deeply, calmly. Maybe I just haven’t had enough to drink. That must be it. I’m feeling faint, now of all times!

The woman lets out a sharp scream. I open my eyes just in time to see her being dragged away from the man by a guard. The man’s hands are forced behind his back, then he is pushed to his knees. The woman sinks to the ground as well. Tears run down her cheeks, but she cries silently as her gaze clings to his.

The king makes his way through the bystanders, who shrink back, looking frightened. He comes to a stop between the two sinners. Rage is written all over his face. Sheer, ice-cold rage that makes my heart beat faster.

Slowly, my dizziness subsides. My thoughts become clear again. The significance of what is happening sinks heavily on my shoulders. The couple has given themselves over to lust, in full view of everyone. And even worse, they did it in front of the king.

His brow is furrowed and he pays no attention to the couple at his feet, as if they’ve already forfeited their lives.

“Please” the woman begs. “Your Majesty, please…”

She holds out her open palms to the king, but the guard standing behind her gives her a violent shove and she falls back to the ground, burying her tear-stained face in her hands.

“This is not good,” Ophelia mutters next to me. “This is not good at all.”

“What will happen to them?” I whisper.

“I don’t know.”

The princess has gone white as a sheet. Erin reaches out a hand to her, but then drops it. Even though all eyes are on the king and the two sinners, this is definitely not the time or place for that. She seems to realize it as well.

“We are a society with rules,” the king’s voice thunders. “Those who fail to abide by them put us all in danger. We must give sin no room in our lives.”

Some men and women nod affirmatively. It all seems so staged. As if this couple were only here to demonstrate what happens to those who don’t obey the law. But the woman’s tears are real. And so is the man’s despair as he keeps shaking his head in disbelief. Why did they do this? Surely they had to know they wouldn’t get away with it.

“I’m going to marry her,” the man blurts out. He draws himself up, and I can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Please, I’ll marry her, and we’ll have children. Then we can forget about what happened here today. We didn’t mean to do it. We didn’t want…”

“It’s done,” the king replies harshly, and the man slumps. “The sin cannot be undone.”

At his signal, the couple is pulled to their feet. The woman stumbles forward toward the hall’s exit. She seems resigned to her fate. But the man braces himself against the guard’s grip.

“What will happen to us now?” he demands in a trembling voice.

I hold my breath. I wonder what the penalty is for such an offense. Imprisonment? Chastisement? Or will they be put in one of those reformatories where sinful behavior is corrected? Perhaps it would be best for the two of them. But whatever happens, they will be tainted for the rest of their lives. For sin is not something that’s easily forgiven in Virtue.

The king lifts his chin a little higher. His forehead has smoothed out, the angry lines have disappeared. Instead, there is now deep contempt in his gaze as he looks at the man. There is a coldness that is unparalleled.

I bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood. I probably shouldn’t feel sorry for the sinners, but I can’t help it. They just wanted to be close to each other.

As the king speaks, the air around him seems to freeze and the woman flinches with every word, as if she’s being whipped.

“I will make an example of you.”

Ophelia closes her eyes in surrender, and I’m sure that can’t be good.

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