Chapter Twenty-One. In Which the Prince Stages the Performance of a Lifetime （and His Companions Are Unimpressed）
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In Which the Prince Stages the Performance of a Lifetime (and His Companions Are Unimpressed)
Risa swallowed the words and bile. Pressed the heel of her palm into her chest and pounded, forcing everything down.
Javi noticed. His hand paused on Amina’s back, and concern briefly flashed across his features.
“Are you going to be sick, too?” He caught himself and glanced back at the princess, who groaned and shrugged him away. “Amina already hurled.”
Amina was half sprawled over the bin, hood thrown back, both hands gripping the rim with white knuckles.
“I wouldn’t do anything so obscene as hurl,” she corrected.
“I was sick.” She slid off the bin as she mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “of you two,” but Risa couldn’t be sure.
The hub where the second airship had docked was the largest structure Risa had ever been in—floating or otherwise.
Steel rafters made up the skeleton of the domed station, and paneled windows ran across the ceiling and walls, allowing endless sky to serve as a backdrop to the airships docked inside.
Wrought-iron lamps, unlit in the day, hung from the rafters, while intricately carved pillars supported the architectural marvel.
Two arched gateways, each sporting their own hanging ticker, were stationed at the end of the hub.
The streams of people had divided themselves into two lines.
Javi pointed at the longer line snaking out of the archway on the left. That ticker read EVERYONE ELSE in bold black letters.
“I think that’s us.”
The shorter line beneath the CIRILIANS ticker had a variety of patrons: men in crisp suits much like the man who had made his opinion on tourists well known; women in carefully pressed and pleated trousers and skirts; people in matching linen ensembles that had not a speck of dirt to be seen.
The line that held “everyone else” was made up of individuals wearing similar clothes, only theirs were covered in a fine layer of dust.
Risa, Javi, and Amina did not look like the kind of people to be found in the Business District.
Not in their billowing clothes borrowed from a giant, and their cape and ruanas that proved quite useful in the cold air thousands of feet high.
The only one among them that looked remotely like they belonged was Brunie, and that was only because he was a cat.
They stood behind two men deep in discussion about something very serious. One man gesticulated wildly while the other nodded, stroking his curled mustache in thought. At some point, the impassioned man argued something Risa couldn’t make out.
“Oh, that’s a great line. Put it in the pitch,” said his mustachioed companion.
“Pardon,” Amina said, popping up between the two men. “Are you here to sell something?”
“Of course,” said the passionate man, tugging at the intricate cravat at his throat, the pink color matching his rouged cheeks. “Everyone knows the best engineers are holed up in this city. If we can just get an audience with the Regent, I’m sure we’ll get investments.”
“Here,” said the companion, handing Amina a pamphlet.
Amina took one look at the sheet and rolled her eyes. “The adjustable bosom.”
Risa reached for the brochure, curiosity piqued, but Javi snatched it out of Amina’s grip and ripped it into tiny shreds. He shouldered past Risa without sparing her a look—a shame, since she was glaring at him so well—to speak with the men.
“Are you saying that everyone in this line has some kind of invention and the Regent will see them if it’s good enough?”
“Yes. Why else would we be in the Business District?” the man with the cravat said.
The mustachioed gentleman shrugged. “That’s the rumor, at least. It’s not like anyone knows anything about what goes on up here.”
Javi nodded. “Right.”
He leaned away from the two men, who continued working on their adjustable-bosom pitch. Javi stroked his chin with one hand and Brunie’s flicking tail with the other, eyes transfixed on the tiled floor beneath his feet.
“What are you thinking?” Amina asked, voice low—unlike the men in front of them, who did not adjust their volume as they spoke about women like Risa, who would be perfect if not for their bosom-less affliction.
“If the Regent meets with inventors … let them meet with the greatest inventors since the airship engineers.”
Risa did not like the way his lips curled into his most mischievous smile. His eyes sparkled bright with unrestrained glee.
“And we’re those inventors?” she confirmed as he went behind her and began to root around in her rucksack.
She held her breath and protests as he handed her the childhood book she’d brought from home (“Did you ever read the sequel?” he asked, but hardly waited for her answer); then Brunhilda’s magical pouch, where she’d stuffed his circlet; and finally the rolled-up wanted poster he’d grabbed from Mustache and stowed in her pack without her knowing.
“Yes.” He unrolled the parchment and rerolled it the other way, ensuring his face was hidden.
He waved the roll in the air and strolled toward the booth, ignoring shouts that rose from those in line.
“Excuse me, I request a meeting with the Regent! We have invented a new and improved airship, and we’re willing to sell it! ”
Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to look at them. Javi stood apart from the crowd, arms crossed, smug, infuriating grin in place.
Amina pulled at Javi’s ruana. “Did you. Forget. That airships. Run on. Magic?” she muttered, eyes darting back and forth across the crowd.
“No,” he said and, impossibly, managed to look more smug. Risa wanted to wring his neck. “We have a witch right here.”
He and Amina both turned to look at her.
“Oh no,” she said, backing away. “Absolutely not.”
“And we have a witch to prove it!” Javi declared loudly for the crowd, gesturing at her. “Beauty and brains.”
“She’s a witch?” shouted the man who’d given Amina the pamphlet. “She’s going to turn me into a newt!”
Uniformed officers in suits of bright green appeared from behind the booths and surrounded them. One grabbed Risa by the arm, while two others did the same to Amina and Javi.
Another detached from the group and gave Risa a once-over. “What’s all this, then?”
Well, Javi did make all that ruckus. Might as well use it to their advantage. “We’re here to see the Regent. We have created an alternative airship model. We’re going off the assumption that the Regent does not prefer competition to promote a healthy capitalist society.”
The uniformed officer’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “The Regent abhors capitalism.” She gestured at the other officers. “Take them to interrogation. We’ll determine if your supposed invention is good enough to warrant an audience with the Regent.”
Javi’s plan got them out of the hub faster, but it did not seem to convince a horde of officers that he and Amina were, in fact, teenage engineers with a witch in tow.
Which meant they were now sitting in a windowless room after being hauled into a tiny airship that buzzed around so fast that Risa was sure her stomach was somewhere in the hub they’d left behind.
Javi still had his poster tucked under his ruana, she still had her pack, and Amina was still equipped with several small weapons.
Apparently, San Cirilo was against the illegal seizing of property, and that included fake blueprints and possible weaponry.
The officer sat behind a steel table, arms crossed over her chest, the name GOMEZ stitched on a pocket.
An onyx band that matched the black sash across the lapel of her shirt held back her tight black braids, though a curtain of them fell over her shoulder when she pressed her hands against the table and leaned ominously forward.
Her tawny skin turned golden under the single orange light hanging from above.
The light flickered neither like candlelight nor gaslight and made a buzzing sound that reminded Risa of a bumblebee ricocheting off the walls.
Gomez narrowed her eyes at them.
“Once again, how do we know this isn’t some ill-advised attempt to steal our own airship blueprints?” she asked, scrutinizing Javi in a way that said she was thoroughly unimpressed by the prince.
He responded by leaning an elbow on the table and offering her a smirk that Risa was sure he believed to be charming but was merely aggravating.
“How could I dream of lying to such a beautiful, intelligent woman such as yourself—”
Gomez put up a hand to stop him. “I prefer women.”
Javi blinked. He sat back and let his shoulders relax. “My charm can’t do much against that, I suppose.” He cast Risa a sidelong glance. “Do you want to give it a try?”
She scowled. So did Gomez.
“You’re leaving me with little choice but to deport you—”
Amina stood, sending her chair crashing behind her. “We don’t need your blueprints. We have ours. As well as our knowledge and our magic. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t know that Madros has had most of Kheadon and the surrounding kingdoms under a spell that has affected San Cirilo and the Regent, too.”
Gomez’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You could be part of General Sur’s plot.”
“We’re not,” Javi said. He jerked his chin at Risa. “She’s a witch, and you know how he hates witches.”
At least, that’s what they assumed. Amina nodded in confirmation.
The woman scoffed. It was clear there was no way to convince her with Javi’s half-baked story, let alone to get her to agree to let them see the Regent. “You’re trying to tell me that two teenagers, a witch, and a cat have managed to invent an airship and—”
“I’m not a witch,” Risa said, glaring at Javi. For the first time in what felt like ages, he met her unflinching gaze and didn’t look away.
“So, three teenagers, no witch—”
“She’s a witch,” Javi interjected, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He raised an eyebrow at her. “And a teenager, I suppose.”
“Oh no,” Amina sighed, settling back in her chair. “They’re going to start arguing now.”
“Yes, we are,” Risa confirmed. Her heart stuttered under his gaze, under the magic of Brunhilda’s spell. “Mostly because he’s on my very last nerve.”
“I suppose you’re going to go ahead and do a little spell like the last time, when you turned my hair yellow.”
“I didn’t turn your hair yellow! It was blond.”
The woman shifted uncomfortably and started to stand. “Perhaps this is not the time—”
“I look terrible as a blond! You did it on purpose!”
“Well, maybe I did, because you keep getting us into messes. We could have sold the plans straight to General Sur, but no, you had to insist on an open market!”
The woman stood up and slammed her fists on the table. “Enough! Fine! You win! You can meet with the Regent.” She started for the door. “Curses, teenagers are the worst,” she grumbled before stomping out of the room.
“I almost believed you,” Amina said when the door shut with a click. “You’re both very good at acting like you hate each other.”
Javi slumped into his seat and closed his eyes while Risa sat stock-still, thrumming with unspent energy. The fake argument had set her teeth on edge because she’d meant none of it, and she knew that he knew that, too.
There was something about recognizing herself in someone else.
Seeing her reflection laid bare and finding that what she hated in Javi was something she also found within herself.
Tracing his fault lines to parts of him that revealed he wasn’t the villain she needed him to be. He wasn’t a villain at all.
She couldn’t hate him. She reserved most of her hate for herself, and there was none left to spare.
“It’s not acting,” Risa snapped. At least her voice did not betray her.
Javi understood. Lips curling into an amused smile, he leaned back on the table and placed his chin on the palm of his hand.
“If Risa says so, then it must be true.”
At least now they could go back to the way things were.
Amina looked between the two. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, which did nothing, as it sprang back out of its own volition. Javi followed the movement with hawk eyes that made Risa’s stomach churn.
He catapulted out of his chair and kneeled by the princess, staring intently at her face. “Your curse is gone.”
Amina giggled nervously and looked down, as if that could hide the fact that her face was her own. “What? No. Really? It’s a miracle.”
Risa rolled her eyes. “That was very convincing.”
“Your curse is gone?” He smiled. “Your curse is gone! Wait, how come I didn’t notice?”
Amina gave him a look Risa did not understand and answered, “Because you’re blinded by idiocy.”
Javi shot Risa a glare for some reason—it wasn’t like she called him an idiot—before turning back to the princess with a nod. “I see you two are keeping your own secrets now.” He sighed, then patted Amina’s knee. “You should put your hood back on. An older Cirilian might recognize you.”
Amina pulled her cape back over her face. “Better?” she asked, the lilt in her accent nearly scrubbed clean.
“Yes,” Javi confirmed. “You’ll have to tell me where you got your cloak. The magic in it would be helpful for when I end my betrothal and make my great escape from Madros. I’ll probably have to live the rest of my life in hiding.”
Risa perked up, setting her exasperation with the prince aside. “You said Madros!”
“Huh.” He scratched his head. “I didn’t even hesitate.”
“The curse must not be able to extend so far,” Amina said, eyes wide.
Risa nodded. “That must be why General Sur is so concerned with San Cirilo.”
“Could it only extend by land?” Javi wondered.
“It didn’t really reach us in Barrow or Cairn. Not that the general has to worry about backwater country towns.” Risa licked her lips and felt Javi’s eyes boring a hole into her forehead. “I wonder if other nations got the brunt of it…”
Before they could discuss any further theories, the door opened and Gomez returned, looking surlier.
“You have your audience.”
Javi stretched to his full height and gave her an easy grin. “Wonderful. Where should—”
“Just her,” Gomez said, jerking a thumb at Risa. “The Regent wants to make sure she’s really a witch.”
Risa’s eyes widened.
Shit.
“You can’t do that—” Javi started.
“We can, and we will.”
Amina reached for the daggers strapped to her belt, but the woman raised a finger in warning. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. We have a whole squad of guards just outside this door. Which is, coincidentally, the only way in and out of this room.”
Risa shook her head. “It’s fine,” she told the princess. “I’ll be fine.”
But she wasn’t going to be fine. If she didn’t find a way to break Brunhilda’s spell in the next few minutes, she would die on her way to meet the Regent.