Chapter Nine
Valeris
My uncle asked no questions when I approached.
He saw the look on my face and followed me to the highest balcony.
With every step my anger grew, like a furious beast prowling up the stairs.
From the seventh balcony, the dancers below looked like nothing more than ants waltzing across the ballroom floor, and there was no chance of us being heard above the chatter and music below.
“I want her gone,” I growled.
Confusion washed over his face. “What?”
“I said I want her gone.”
“Who?”
I threw my hands up, scanning the crowd even though it wasn’t like I could pick her out from this height. “That Kallistar girl with the white-blond hair. She’s wearing a cream-colored dress.”
The smile she’d flashed as she strode away kept playing in my mind like a nightmare on repeat, her blue eyes taunting me.
“What is this about, Valeris?”
“I was this close to securing an alliance with Haskelle, Uncle.” I shoved my thumb and forefinger in his face, bringing them dangerously close together.
“This close! I had my hand extended to seal the deal, and she pounced on him, spitting out the facts and making him reason within that empty head of his.”
“She stole your alliance?”
“She didn’t steal my alliance,” I seethed. “She completely sabotaged it!”
“Calm down, Valeris—”
“Do not tell me to calm down!”
Only then did I realize I was shaking, fuming like a maniac. I drew in a deep breath, succumbing to my uncle’s advice. He was right. Why had I lost control like that? It would only make the situation worse.
“This is Ezrielle’s or Zandyr’s doing,” I snarled.
“Zandyr watched the entire exchange from the shadow of a pillar. One of them must have hired her to come in and destroy the alliance. They would have known what I was trying to secure as well as the diplomat’s weakness for a pretty face.
She acted innocent and wide-eyed, but I could see the manipulation even though she tried to hide it.
She knew exactly what we were talking about, knew exactly what was going on—and she destroyed it. ”
Uncle Wylan shifted back, gazing over the edge of the balcony to the dancers below as he crossed his arms. “This is not Ezrielle’s or Zandyr’s doing.”
I threw my hands up. “Then who else would it be? If I fail, one of them gets the throne. We both know how disastrous that would be. The Paravellian people deserve better than the king they have, and either one of those two would only make it worse for them.”
He shook his head. “Zandyr would be too proud to hire someone to do his dirty business, and Ezrielle would never trust someone to do something she could accomplish herself—she would have been the one to interrupt you and the diplomat. Moreover, both of them need this alliance. They would not have destroyed it but would have offered him better terms to do business with them instead. It holds no advantage for them to sabotage a treaty they need for themselves.”
“Then who is she working for? Because she’s been trained, and it was far too deliberate to be a coincidence.”
“You look for an enemy in everyone, Valeris, maybe—”
My eyes bore into him. “She knew—and she’s dangerous.”
He watched me as I fumed, curiosity lighting in his eyes. “Are you angry you lost the alliance or angry she beat you?”
My jaw ticked. It unnerved me that she had undermined me so quickly.
“I want her gone,” I said. “Make up a story, accuse her of a crime. I don’t care. Just make sure she’s gone before the start of the second ball.”
I stormed past him, racing down the steps and trying to regain my composure, but it was difficult.
Especially because I knew my uncle was right.
I was angrier about being beat than I was about losing the alliance.
Far angrier. I could find another way to bargain Lord Eyreling into agreement, but I couldn’t have a trickster who could outwit me wandering around the balls, threatening my alliances.
I didn’t need a fourth competitor in the competition for the throne.
A game of chess flashed before my mind, front and center at the second ball five years ago.
I had thought I was going to win, but my opponent had other ideas.
I was fifteen. She was younger. It was humiliating.
My father had scolded me. My peers had laughed at me.
That was the last time I had ever felt like this—and I’d vowed I would never feel like that again.