Chapter 63
I’ve never paired sigils and daggers with a dress before, but there’s a first time for everything.
My first random dress choice didn’t work at all as there was nowhere to sheath the blade, and given it’s the first show of goodwill Zara has ever given me, I don’t want to throw it back in her face.
Which is why, when I peer into the wardrobe a second time, it’s with a little more discernment. Thankfully, I find the perfect garment.
The black leather, halter-neck jumpsuit, with a keyhole cutout below my sternum, is the perfect mix between warrior and womanly, and my own knife belt fits perfectly across the hips.
After sheathing various daggers – including Zara’s and my own from Dinah – I paint on my sigils, aware of just how clumsy they look compared to the ones painted by Kyor’s steady hand.
I brush my hair and do a simple plait around my crown, like Llinos sometimes wore, and then I head out, feeling like the shadow of my best friend is walking with me.
The stone here is paler in colour than the grey bricks of Wrohelm, and even though I can hear the music drifting from downstairs, I take my time absorbing it all, from the paintings to the views to the colour of the carpets, imagining Llinos beside me, telling me little facts about each.
Facts she’d almost certainly have learned from Caroline.
Five minutes have passed before I even reach the staircase to the ballroom. Am I delaying speaking to her family? Absolutely. I know what Kyor said about them not blaming me for her death, but how could they not? That wine was meant for me. And I was the one who handed her the glass.
I blame myself, and they should too.
One by one, I take the steps, not sure if I’d rather face them sober or drunk. In the end, though, I know it makes no difference. It will be painful however it happens. As I reach the doors to the ballroom, I feel the music reverberating through the ground.
Aware of the tremble in my hand, which is thankfully absent of the tingle of magic, I step in through the doorway.
The music screeches to an abrupt halt, gasps rattle through the air, and hands fly to mouths at the sight of me.
My throat constricts, and I feel sick as I take in the assembled courtiers, all in their finest gowns, with nothing more than sparkling eyeliner and garish lipstick on their mouths. There is not a painted sigil in sight.
‘By the Gods, Rose,’ Zara speaks into the stunned silence. ‘I can’t believe you’d disrespect the Eastern Isles so much as to turn up to a ball ready to offer violence. That’s unbelievable. But then, what can we expect, letting a slum rat take part in the Retterheld?’
Anger pulses through me and it takes serious restraint on my part not to draw the blade she gave me and throw it into her treacherous, conniving little heart. I curse myself for being an idiot, for believing – even for a second – that she could ever show me a drop of respect.
‘I think it’s bad-ass,’ a young girl announces loudly, breaking the hush of the hall.
I turn to look at her, and my breath catches in my throat. I know without being told who she is. Carys, Llin’s little sister.
‘Absolutely bad-ass,’ Benny agrees loudly as he moves to join me.
A murmur turns into unfettered conversation as people begin talking among themselves. Still, I’m sure my face has never been redder.
‘Okay. This was not what I expected you to be wearing,’ Benny says as he sidles up beside me.
‘Zara.’ The one-word growl is all I need to explain my situation. ‘Is this … should I go back and change? Wash off the sigils?’
‘And give her the satisfaction?’ He snorts.
‘No, don’t worry. I’ve got this.’ He clears his throat and all eyes turn from me to him, every whisper and chatter disappearing.
Huh. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my dearest friend and a most formidable warrior – who, as her face betrays, takes her work rather seriously – Rose Kultavaris. She is, regrettably for our enemies, the reason your earl still breathes this evening.’
Another gasp rolls from the guests. This one has the slightest hint of awe mingled in.
‘Earl?’ I mutter in shock. Sure, I knew Benny was nobility. Rich nobility. But there’s something about the way he said his title that held gravitas.
‘My mother is the Duchess of the Eastern Isles,’ he tells me. ‘Her ruling over the kingdom is—’
‘Second only to King Korvane,’ I finish for him, as the pieces finally slot into place.
‘Speaking of which … looks like you definitely caught someone’s eye with that outfit of yours.’
My eyes are drawn across the room to where Kyor’s standing staring at me, lips apart, as if he’s in shock. As if I’m the most mesmerising thing he’s ever seen. Which is ridiculous, because compared to him, I’m nothing.
Only as I smile does his expression flicker, and a grin takes hold of that perfect mouth of his as he strides across to me.
‘Your Royal Highness,’ Benny says formally with a dip of his chin.
‘Lord Benaris,’ Kyor responds just as politely before turning to me. ‘I’m guessing from the glowers that this look of yours is courtesy of our friend from Rowell.’
I huff. ‘I don’t know why I believed a single thing she said to me.’
‘Because you’re trusting and want to think the best of people. And that’s not a bad thing.’
‘Right now, I feel like it is.’
‘You have to give it to her that it’s a bit more inventive than her normal stab-you-or-set-you-on-fire approach,’ Benny counters.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I say. ‘She gave me one of her daggers and everything. I’ll use it when I stab her through her heart.’
He snorts.
‘Well, it’s good to see you up. Any chance you’ve got it in you to meet a couple of people before you get out of here?’
I know exactly who he’s talking about, and the answer is a resounding no. Kyor puts his arm around my waist in a show of support.
‘If you want, I’ll be with you the entire time,’ he says, shooting Benny a look that says there’s no point trying to disagree with him.
I nod, knowing there’s no real way out of this. ‘Okay, I’m ready.’
Both men brace me as we walk further into the room, Kyor holding me steady and helping me ignore all the eyes following my every step.
‘If I tell you they’re staring because you’re beautiful, would you believe me?’ Kyor whispers.
‘No. But I appreciate the effort.’
‘Well, I’m staring because you’re beautiful. How about that?’
Some people are talking now, returning to their conversations, but I can’t help casting another look at Zara.
Her smug smile has been replaced by a scowl.
She’s clearly less than impressed that I’ve overcome this problem so quickly.
Still, I shift my daggers further around my waistband so they’re not quite so visible.
‘Rose,’ Benny says, coming to a stop. ‘This is my grandmother, the Dowager Duchess.’
The woman in front of me is dressed in a dark silver gown that’s almost the exact shade as her hair, the sapphire- and emerald-encased tiara on her head looking almost like a crown. Something tells me this is the type of woman you curtsy to, and so I do, though with just a small bend of my knee.
‘I’m truly very pleased to meet you,’ I say in all honesty.
Her smile tightens slightly as her gaze shifts to Kyor at my side before coming back to me. ‘I hear I should be grateful to you for keeping my grandson alive.’
‘I believe we have both kept each other alive,’ I reply truthfully. ‘I am sure I would not be here without your grandson, and the other islanders, who I also counted among my friends.’
She nods at that, looking pleased. ‘Then you are blessed by the Gods to have found one another. I am extremely proud of all our men and women who answered Etta’s call. Ultimately,’ she says, looking pointedly at Kyor, ‘it is only the Gods that we should answer to.’
Benny grimaces and drops his voice once more to offer an explanation of his grandmother’s acerbic comment. ‘My grandmother’s great-grandfather was the ruler who sought a unification with Morathka,’ Benny tells me. ‘Before then, we were an independent kingdom.’
‘I wasn’t aware that the Eastern Isles were ever independent,’ I say in surprise.
The Dowager sniffs. ‘King Korvane treats truth like an optional accessory – splendid when it suits him, conveniently absent when it doesn’t.’
Tension ripples through the air, yet no matter how uncomfortable I’m starting to feel, Kyor remains completely relaxed.
‘I would happily take back with me any documents or books you feel our records may be missing.’ He smiles. ‘It has been lovely to chat with you again, Dowager. I hope to see you on the mainland soon.’
She sniffs again. ‘A pretty face and tight arse aren’t enough to win me over, young Kyor. You can tell your father that too.’
‘I’m sure my father would be honoured to hear you think he still has a tight arse,’ Kyor replies without missing a beat. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I believe there are some other people Rose has been hoping to speak to. It’s been a pleasure, Dowager.’
Despite herself, I see a flash of amusement cross her face, followed by consternation. I get that all too well. I hated Kyor once upon a time too, but his charm – and other parts of him – won me over.
I offer a fumbled farewell and another curtsy before leaving the Dowager.
‘You know, for someone who insists they’re nothing like their father, you can sure be a prick like him,’ Benny mumbles to Kyor when he catches up with us a moment later.
‘Really? I thought I was just accepting compliments.’ Kyor smirks back.
Benny leads us to a small room off the ballroom, where a woman and a young girl who need no introduction are waiting. It’s the girl who was brave enough to call me bad-ass in front of the whole court. Llin’s baby sister.
‘This is Rose,’ Benny introduces me softly. ‘Llinos loved her.’
Just having those words spoken aloud makes my throat fill with rocks.
‘Carys.’ My voice trembles as heat burns behind my eyes. A miniature version of Llinos, she looks so much like her sister it’s enough to break my heart all over again. I slip out of Kyor’s grasp and bend down to the child’s height. ‘I’ve heard so much about you. Llinos adored you.’
The young girl nods, suddenly silent, no doubt battling her own tears.
‘You picked such beautiful dresses for Llin to wear.’ I’m not sure why I say such an inane thing, and all it does is rouse images in my mind. Images of Llin dead in a ballgown. Dead because of me. I close my eyes, waiting for whatever punishment, physical or verbal, she’s about to unleash on me.
Instead, I find myself engulfed in an embrace.
‘She wore them?’ Carys asks in a small voice.
‘She did.’ Tears leak down my cheeks as I open my eyes. ‘She wore them all for you.’
‘She was so beautiful.’
The girl’s eyes glaze, and all I can do is nod as I stifle the sobs that want to break free.
‘She was,’ I choke out, ‘the most beautiful person I have ever known, inside and out.’ My hand rises and brushes against Carys’s cheeks. ‘And you look just like her.’
The young girl’s lips tremble, and I’m struck by the overwhelming urge to hold her and never let go. But before I can, a throat clears above me.
There, standing over us, is a woman I have never met, yet I know with my whole heart who she is. ‘Go now, Carys,’ she says. ‘Let the adults talk a moment.’
‘But Mother—’
‘Go!’
A slight huff leaves her pouted lips, but nonetheless Carys goes.
As silence threatens to take hold, I bite my lip, not sure where to start. In the end, I go with the words that have been bursting within me from the moment I knew this moment was coming. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I gulp in breaths as I stand face to face with Llinos’s mother, Morwenna. ‘I am so, so sorry.’
A ghost of a smile graces the older woman’s face as she takes my hand.
‘For what, Rose? You trained with her, fought with her, and you loved her. And she you. And most of all, you returned Caroline to her. To us. Her last days were happy and full of love. She chose to enter the Retterheld, and she knew the cost of doing so. You have nothing to apologise for.’
‘Llinos… she shouldn’t have … she wasn’t meant …’
She opens her arms and pulls me into her chest. ‘She loved you dearly. I know that much. She wrote, smuggled a letter all this way, asking if we’d be able to help you secure a home afterwards, for you and your sister.’
‘She did?’ I break away from the embrace to see only a warm smile gracing Morwenna’s face.
‘She did. The offer is not rescinded because Llinos is no longer with us. She loved you as a sister, and as such I will love you as my own. As she would have wished.’
Tears pour down my cheeks unchecked as her generosity breaks my heart anew.
The way she rocks me as she holds me, brushing her hand against the back of my head … it has been years since I’ve been held in such a manner. Held as a mother holds her own.
‘It was my drink,’ I say brokenly when I can finally manage words between the sobs.
‘I know. And you killed him for it,’ Morwenna says fiercely. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple. ‘Thank you for loving my daughter – for avenging my daughter – when we were not there to do that for her.’
Any words I hope for choke in my lungs as I push myself away, striking the tears from my cheeks in a smudge of blue. Rather than letting me go entirely, Morwenna steps back, allowing Kyor to take her place. To take my weight.
‘We’ll see each other again,’ Morwenna says firmly. ‘And if you don’t find yourself a place in Korvane’s court’—her eyes flick to Kyor—‘then I will help you find one here.’
‘I’m sorry, My Lord,’ Kyor says to Benny without a hint of mockery, ‘but I believe I should take Rose back to our room. It’s been a lot, and she was not long ago at death’s door.’
Benny nods. ‘Look after her,’ he tells Kyor solemnly. ‘She may have Wrohelm rings, but she’s one of us, too.’