Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-five
“He’s decided to make a day of it,” Orda said the next morning as she helped tie me into a dress nearly as stuffy as the one I’d worn to the dance. “Can’t hold a celebration in the market, as they usually might, for the arrival of a royal, so he decided to give her a bit of entertainment.”
“I was told it would only be dinner,” I said, wincing as my ribs practically collapsed. “I’d like to keep my breasts where they are, Orda.”
“I don’t see why not. They’re good ones.” She tied off the strings, then turned me around to look at me. “A woman has assets, why not use them?”
“I don’t need to use my assets.”
“You think the baron’s daughter won’t?”
“I think what she does or doesn’t do isn’t any business of mine.”
She took a step closer, and there was something hard and a little mean in her eyes. “I don’t know her, but she looks like the type to make the prince’s business her business, if you catch my drift, so watch your step. We’ve spent too much time cleaning you up to see you pushed into the mud again.”
Those words echoed in my mind like the footsteps in the dome the night before—and the reminder that I’d be in the mud again when I left the palace, with or without a push from the baron’s daughter.
I was directed to the dining room, which was built much like the game room—although the animal bits were meant for eating, rather than hanging from the walls.
A long trestle table stretched nearly from one end of the room to the other, but places had been set only at one end.
Candles were lit and flowers were placed throughout the room, and a performer with a stringed instrument sat in the corner, smiling blandly as he plucked a soft tune.
I found Wren in a tunic and trousers staring disgruntledly at the table.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“He said I could fight Galen and offered me coin for it. It’s a demonstration for the baron’s daughter. He thought she might enjoy it. And apparently there’s a baron’s daughter.”
I nodded.
“Trustworthy?”
“No. I don’t like her eyes.”
She considered that. “She traveled a long way to see him.”
“Yes, she did. How long would it take to get from the Edgelands to the stronghold with an entourage?”
“If the weather holds, two or three weeks.”
Which meant she’d have had to begin her travels before the prince even arrived, maybe the moment she discovered he’d been Gated. That was…strategic.
Galen and Red were apparently also guests for dinner, as they walked in dressed in very fancy uniforms. Galen and Wren looked at each other and made faces of disgust.
“You must be Wren,” Red said, and offered a hand. They shook. “The prince tells me you have quite a way with a windblade.”
“I’ve learned a few things.”
The prince walked in. He wore black, this time a military-style coat over dark pants and boots that made him look like a young and wicked general.
“You just sighed,” Wren murmured.
I took the coward’s way out. “I also kissed him last night,” I admitted, and walked toward the royals before she could respond. Odds were good she wouldn’t raise a fuss about that in front of them. But she pinched my arm, and I knew I’d hear about it later. Loudly and with verve.
It probably wasn’t an accident that Catalaya waited until we were all assembled before walking into the room. She looked very royal in a gown of pale green and gold, and a gold coronet bearing three raised stars perched in her golden hair.
Her posture and bearing were perfect, her hands clasped together at her waist as she glided across the room, her gaze on the prince and the prince alone—and appreciation flaring in her eyes. She reached the prince and gave him a lovely curtsy. “Your Highness.”
“No need for formalities, Caty. Please meet Galen, my bodyguard, and Red, my training master.”
“Your Ladyship,” they said with sweeping bows.
She gave them perfectly polite smiles, then glanced around. “And Fox, I see.”
“Your Ladyship,” I said with a curtsy.
Her gaze shifted to Wren. “And who is this?”
“Caty,” he said, “meet Wren. An excellent fighter and friend of Fox’s who has also been of great service to the throne.”
“Your Ladyship,” Wren said, and executed a curtsy so perfect that even Talia gave a nod of approval.
“You meet such interesting people,” Catalaya said. Red had said nearly the same thing when we’d met, but he’d sounded amused and curious; Catalaya sounded wary.
“I hear that often,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
There were two seats at the end of the long table. The prince helped Catalaya into one. And when she was seated, he looked up and gave me a warm smile.
“Kissing wasn’t the only thing you did,” Wren whispered as we walked to the table. I ignored her, but I could feel the flush in my cheeks.
Talia directed us to the next seats in line, with Galen and Red across from us. Servants descended, dropping goblets and bowls and platters in front of us. The food looked good; the crockery looked better, including that same silver bowl I’d seen at the party. It was still tempting.
“Tell me truly, Niko,” Catalaya said, pivoting toward him. How are you faring in this faraway place?”
“Food’s better than the army’s,” he said, lifting his goblet, “thanks to our very hardworking staff. Everyone, please enjoy yourselves.”
I didn’t need more invitation than that, and sipped the sweetwine. It wasn’t Vhranian, but it was still better than the cheap stuff they served at the inn.
“I’m glad to hear it. Laeith is busy, of course. The work of a prince is never done.”
“There’s certainly enough of it.”
She sipped delicately at her wine, glanced around, and her gaze fell on me. “And where are you from, Fox?”
“The stronghold.”
“And your family?”
“I don’t have family. They died, and I was bonded to pay their debts.”
Her eyes narrowed for an instant—probably considering how she could use that information—then widened in sympathy that looked very real.
“Children carrying the debts of their parents is a cruelty that no one should have to endure. Something could be done about it.” She looked expectantly at the prince.
This woman didn’t care if I was free or not. But this was a performance for the only person in the room whose opinion she cared about.
“It’s something I’ve suggested to the Emperor Eternal,” he said, and sipped his wine.
“Good,” Catalaya said, then looked at me. “It must be very intimidating—being in the palace and surrounded by such luxury.”
I hadn’t expected to like her, and the condescension masked by concern confirmed my first impression. “It’s a very unusual place,” I agreed.
“I owe you a great deal of thanks for saving Niko’s life.” She glanced at him with a soft smile. “How else could we have a future together?”
Something cold settled into my belly, and it wasn’t the wine.
Nik nearly choked on his and held up a hand when Galen jumped up in alarm. “I’m fine. My fault entirely.” He dabbed a napkin at his mouth, then glanced up at me. “My fault entirely,” he said again, and gave me a quick warning nod.
“Have you shared the news with everyone else?” she asked, looking brightly around.
“There’s no news.”
“Of course there is. My parents made an offer to the Emperor Eternal, and Laeith fully supports it.”
“I’ve made clear…”
“That you aren’t ready. I know. That’s only because you don’t understand how beneficial it would be. How happy you and I will be when we’re married. Besides, it’s not really up to you, is it? It’s up to the Emperor Eternal. And your father understands my family’s value to the throne.”
Beneath the table, Wren reached out and squeezed my hand.
I could see Nik’s temper rising, and what looked like a battle between politeness and irritation.
“Caty,” he said firmly, very much The Prince’s tone, and she blinked in what looked like real surprise. Maybe she’d forgotten who he was—or never really knew. “We will discuss this in private, or not at all.”
It took a moment for her to compose herself, but then the smile was back in place. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll discuss it later.”
And the look she gave me was utterly victorious.
I must have eaten, but I didn’t taste the food. I just kept thinking about last night, about our moment in the darkness, and the possibility that he’d be handed over to her.
Maybe he was the thing I needed to steal from the palace.
I couldn’t muster up the fury I wanted to feel.
He may or may not be in line for a betrothal he didn’t want.
Didn’t that mean last night had been a mistake and a betrayal, because he hadn’t even mentioned the possibility to me?
Anger would be better; anger would have burned away the fear that felt like a cold stone in my belly.
Anger that I’d let myself fall too deeply and, as my father had predicted, that royals would hurt us all in the end.
I’d seen the anger in his face, the battle for control. This wasn’t a simple matter. Was anything when it involved gods-damned Lys’Careths?
“I take great pride in my soldiers’ skills,” the prince was saying, “so we thought you might enjoy a demonstration of their prowess with weapons.”
“That sounds exciting,” she said, and touched his hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you with a sword.”
“Excellent,” he said, standing up and neatly slipping his hand from hers. He glanced at Talia. “If you’d escort Catalaya and her companion to the courtyard, I’d like to have a word with Red and Galen.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Talia said.
Catalaya apparently couldn’t think of a reason to stay behind, so she gave us all a pretty nod and let Talia direct her to the doorway. And when she reached it, she looked back to give the prince a blushing smile full of promise.
I drained the rest of my wine, glad I wasn’t the one giving the demonstration. My blade might slip.
Wren and I stood together for a moment as the prince talked to Galen and Red, so that hadn’t been a ploy. Or not entirely. And when they were done, he turned his gaze to me and walked toward us.