4
I t was funny how in a place I used to thrive, all I wanted to do now was hide.
The royal ballroom was as grand as ever, but it was always something special during the winter solstice. Dangling crystals threw iridescent shards of light against the marble walls. Tapestries depicting snow-capped mountains hung between pillars. The dance floor was aglow with thousands of flickering candles speckling the ballroom. Some sat in blown glass orbs, meant to be carried by the dancers as they performed the candle waltz—a dance that only came around during the solstice.
A courtier’s daughter once whispered to me that the candle symbolized hope and new beginnings, a fiery promise that spring will come bearing all things good. The last person you dance with is said to be your true love. I thought it rather romantic as a child, but romance was one of the many things Mother spurned .
I glanced over at Father, whose eyes were nearly as bright as the chandeliers.
“Would you look at that. I haven’t attended a ball in years,” he said as the four of us emerged from a crowd of guests. I wedged myself behind him as more people entered through the archway. King Maximus and the princes still had to be announced, meaning the night had yet to commence.
“It was kind of General Turner to take your place tonight,” Lady Vanessa said, her diamond earrings glittering. “I thought I would have to attend without you.”
“Killian is a generous man. He knew I needed a break from the Royal Guard,” Father said with a chuckle. “And what better time than now? Maddox, stand straight, my boy. You have an impression to make tonight.”
Maddox grunted at my left. At first glance, he looked the part of a perfect gentleman. At my proximity, however, his pout was about as obvious as his bright blue necktie.
He shot me a venomous glare when he caught me looking at him. I rolled my eyes in response.
“Listen to your father, Maddox,” Lady Vanessa said. She reached over to straighten his lapel, but Maddox jerked away.
“I am not a child,” he muttered.
She withdrew her hand, brows furrowing. “Very well then.”
I closed my eyes, hoping there wouldn’t be another family outburst just because my idiotic brother couldn’t keep his temper in check. People were already looking at us, some greeting Father and others blatantly staring at me.
Last summer when Father pronounced me as his daughter and not the late Earl Whittington’s, he received some disapproval for having me out of wedlock. But it seemed that his noble services to the kingdom outweighed his sins. I, however, had nothing to redeem myself.
Many among the guests were Mother’s friends, or rather, noblewomen who befriended her out of fear and desire to advance their own positions. The same women who sang my high praises now looked at me in contempt. My hair was on full display, half piled up with pearl pins and half cascading down my back. Tizzy chose the style for me as I had no preference, but now I wished she had covered my head with a scarf. Anything to hide the glaring fact that I was my mother’s daughter.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Greenwood!” a hearty voice exclaimed.
“Hello, old friend,” Father said warmly to the gray-haired gentleman who approached us. The dark mustache on his upper lip made him instantly recognizable.
Lord Frederick Huntington was one of His Majesty’s most trusted former advisors. He had stepped down to join the Royal Guard as a commander next to Father instead, claiming that regulating royal affairs was far more strenuous than maintaining palace security.
If I recalled correctly, he lorded over some parts of Coriva. Mother didn’t like him. She didn’t like any of Father’s friends.
“When was the last time you attended a ball?” Lord Frederick asked.
“Why, just last month. I was outside armed to the teeth. Didn’t you see me?” Father said, eyes twinkling.
Lord Frederick laughed a deep, bellowing laugh. “I see the cold hasn’t damaged your humor.” He turned his bright gaze to Lady Vanessa, Maddox, and me. If he was surprised by my presence he didn’t show it. “Ah, greetings! A rare family gathering, I see.”
Lady Vanessa inclined her head. “It is the winter solstice, after all. ”
“So it is! Unfortunately, that wasn’t reason enough for my wife and daughter to join me,” he said with a rueful smile. “They insisted on going to the opera to see some new singer or whatnot.”
“Celeste Carr from the Grand Alevine Opera?” Lady Vanessa asked. “She has been making quite a name for herself lately.”
Lord Frederick shrugged. “Ah yes, that’s the one. My Izzy has been talking nonstop about her, though just a month before she was begging me to take her to the palace to see the crown prince. But I suppose young girls enjoy a good show more than anything else!”
“Shame.” Father clapped him on the shoulder, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Say, Frederick, how is the security at Huntington Abbey?”
“Horsefeathers, Greenwood. You’re concerned enough about palace security. Why must you involve yourself with mine?”
“My son has recently taken interest in becoming a guard,” Father said, motioning for Maddox to step forward. Maddox looked ready to deny the blatant lie, but to my surprise, he forced a smile and joined Father and Lord Frederick in conversation.
No doubt the rest of the night would go that way for him. I took some pleasure in the fact that Maddox would have to suffer as much as I would.
Lady Vanessa touched my arm. “You look beautiful tonight,” she said, retracting her hand when I met her eye. “Green suits you. ”
The gown she lent me hung much better after it had been tailored to my measurements. Still, I didn’t feel beautiful. Not after Mother claimed I had grown gaunt.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“I suppose we should leave the men to their own devices.” A smile pulled at the edge of her pink lips. “Perhaps you can introduce me to your friends if any are in attendance?”
I glanced at the table behind her, filled with flickering candles in small glass orbs.
Friends. What a novel concept.
“Or perhaps we can take a trip to the refreshments table? A spiced cider will warm us up nicely,” Lady Vanessa said.
I racked my brain for a polite refusal. The truth was, I didn’t want to spend the night with her. Not with the pity and guilt in her eyes.
Before I could think of something to say, Lady Vanessa shook her head. “How silly of me. A young thing like you shouldn’t be chained to her stepmother all night,” she said with a forced laugh. It was the first time she referred to herself as my stepmother. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, which was a relief.
Instead, she stepped back and retrieved a candlelit orb, pushing it into my hands. This one had a blend of snowy blue and periwinkle glass, textured like a honeycomb. The surface felt like ice despite the large flame flickering within.
“Why don’t you find a nice gentleman to dance with? They’ll all be head over heels for you, I’m sure,” Lady Vanessa said with a smile. “I have a few acquaintances to catch up with. We’ll be at the benches if you need me.”
I nodded. With that, she slipped off, the silvery train of her gown disappearing into the rabble .
The ballroom was at full occupancy now, crowd and conversation concentrated at the archway. I made a beeline to a corner between the staircase and the refreshments table, well hidden from view.
A bench waited for me there. I took my seat and leaned against the wall. On the balcony above, the orchestra was tuning their instruments. I always attended public events without Misty, but this time, there was no one to occupy me. I felt her absence sorely.
A rustling sounded within the wall. I tilted my head closer.
I’m starving, Ma, a rodent squeaked.
Have a little patience. The humans will leave eventually.
But I want to eat now .
You just had some parchment.
I’m tired of parchment! I want real food.
We’re mice, child. Everything is real food.
A disgruntled squeak came from the young mouse .
I managed a smile. Mice were far more friendly than the average kitchen maid would think. I spent hours of my childhood listening to them in the corridors of Mother’s estate. They were my only companions before I found Misty.
A myriad of cakes and sandwiches were stacked on the refreshments table. None of the guests had approached yet, thankfully. I picked out a honey-glazed pastry and ran my hand down a hairline crack in the damask wallpaper.
There was a hole the size of a child’s fist at the bottom. The staff had cleverly placed the table over the entrance, though part of it was still accessible.
I broke the pastry into pieces and swept it into the mouse hole. A squeak of delight came from the wall, followed by the pitter-patter of feet. A flash of snowy white paws appeared and disappeared .
“What are you doing?”
I jerked up, narrowly missing the edge of the table.
“Are there mice in there? I love mice.” A girl in a shimmering violet gown hovered over my shoulder. The fabric was eye-catching, shifting to pale green at certain angles. Her hair was braided in neat rows against her scalp, piling into an elaborate chignon on top of her head. It tipped dangerously as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the mouse hole.
“There are.” I hardly knew how to react. I had never done anything so undignified as shove dessert into a wall at a royal ball. And never had I been approached by strangers.
The girl popped back up. She had wide silver eyes and a crescent moon smile. Light from the chandeliers danced over the freckles on her cheeks, shining gold.
A witch.
I didn’t let my surprise show. It seemed that much had changed during the six months I spent in my room.
“Were you going to dance?” she asked, nodding at the glass orb I had abandoned on the bench.
I reached for it, running a finger over the textured surface before blowing out the flame. A wisp of smoke rose from the wick and dissolved.
“No.”
“Oh, shame,” she said with a sigh. “I want to dance. But you’re the only person who would talk to me tonight.”
I blinked slowly. “One does not simply approach someone in a royal ballroom unless they are previously acquainted.”
She huffed. “Then how is anyone supposed to meet new people?”
“Find a mutual acquaintance and have them introduce you. Those are the rules of society. ”
“Sounds inconvenient.” She crossed her arms, the fabric of her bodice bunching. “No one I came with knows anyone. Not Rowena and certainly not Ma.” The girl straightened. “I know Prince Ash. Maybe he can introduce me.” She shook her head abruptly. “Ah. He’s in Vandil on royal business. I forgot.”
“I see,” I said. How did a chatty, oblivious witch girl know the second prince?
“I have an idea! Can you introduce me? We’re acquaintances, aren’t we?”
I looked heavenward, hoping her mother would find her and lead her away. The last thing I wanted was to spend the next two hours entertaining a prattling teenager.
“You don’t know me. And you wouldn’t want me as an acquaintance,” I said, standing up from my crouch. My right foot had fallen asleep, sending stinging needles up my leg.
“You’re Lady Narcissa. Amarante told me all about you, and we met once. Well, actually, I was invisible then. I’m Elowyn, by the way.”
My eye twitched.
“You helped Amarante and Prince Ash escape the duchess. Amarante said you were really brave during the masquerade ball.”
Of course she did. How spineless of her to not say vicious things behind my back after all I had done to her.
“I wish I was there to see you summon those animals, but I wasn’t allowed to attend,” Elowyn said, kicking the floor with embroidered satin slippers. She shrugged. “Well, I’m making up for lost time now. This is my second ball, you know? I wish I could’ve attended all those fancy dinners with all the others, but Ma said I wasn’t allowed to. Royal business or whatnot.”
I tilted my head. “Royal business? ”
“Oh, you didn’t hear? The princes organized a witch, er, group. I forget the word.”
“Committee?” I supplied.
“Right. Committee. We don’t have many groups in the village. Anyway, you see, the committee is in charge of reporting the comings and goings of witches in Witch Village to the royals. And they help witches who want to move above ground get settled. Rowena told me their first meeting was about licenses needed to open magic shops in Delibera. But you probably already know this since you seem important and—”
“Only in Delibera?” I wanted to shut down the conversation earlier, but it turned out that isolation gave me a thirst for kingdom-wide news, which I was so used to getting before.
“For now. It is the biggest city, after all. But I heard they plan to organize more committees for Olderea’s other regions. Coriva and Vandil and such.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I don’t think the older witches are too happy about the politics and groups. They’re too used to living without authority in Witch Village. They don’t like it.”
“And you do?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Of course! It’s much freer up here, especially in the palace,” Elowyn said, as if she hadn’t just complained about the rules of high society minutes before. “I hope to join the committee when I’m old enough. Traveling and exploring the kingdom—doesn’t that sound great?”
“I don’t like traveling,” I said, once I realized she was going to prattle on about something else. I turned on my heel, hoping she would take the hint and go away.
No such luck.
“Why not?” Elowyn said, trotting to keep up with my strides. “I haven’t traveled much, but it all sounds like great fun. Plus, afterward, you can just appear to all the places you’ve been—but oh, silly me, not everyone can do that, so I suppose I’m just lucky in that regar—“
Thankfully, a blast of regal fanfare interrupted her. The steward’s high voice rang through the ballroom. “His Majesty King Maximus Median and His Highness Crown Prince Bennett Median of Olderea!”
I stopped several feet away from the grand staircase and nearly tripped over Elowyn’s skirt in the process. My cheeks warmed as I righted myself. Elowyn giggled loudly, drawing glances from the group near us.
“What is she doing here?” a noblewoman in lime green whispered to another. Dame Alderidge, I recalled. One of the biggest gossips in Mother’s circle who stuck her bulbous nose in places it had no business in. Her daughter was equally annoying.
I shot Dame Alderidge a glare. She immediately turned her attention back to the figures on the staircase. When the king and crown prince came to the last few steps, I lowered my head. I had yet to know what they thought of me. A part of me prayed I’d be ignorant to that forever.
Raise your head, Narcissa , the phantom voice of Mother echoed from many balls past. Look them in the eye. Make it known you are their equal. Someday, you will surpass them.
I winced, squeezing my eyes shut as my heart pounded wildly against my ribs.
She’s not here, I reminded myself. Nothing is going to happen.
Then, all hell broke loose.