Thaddeus pats my back. “Ready, Evren.”
It takes me a moment to remember that’s the name I’m to be called tonight. Nodding, I follow him and dozens of other partygoers away from the caravans and into Valebridge.
Inside the ballroom of the Valebridge castle my jaw drops in awe as we’re greeted by rich swatches of navy and gold. Grizzly bears made of sculpted ice are centered in the large ballroom, surrounded by tables and tables overflowing with delicacies. I bite my tongue, thinking of the townsfolk in Wickersham and even Loxley. Tighter rations have begun now that the cold has started and even more so since the blight, yet here in Valebridge, it’s as if there is an oversupply.
I follow Lord Thaddeus, stopping every so often to greet and shake hands with his acquaintances. I can’t keep focused long enough to remember their names.
My heart races as I scour the room in search of the exits. One on the left, a large archway draped in deep navy where the handmaids seem to be coming and going. Trailing the crowded room, I spot a second, smaller exit. A few servers in masks have come donning trays of various deep liquors. But other than the handful, it’s much less bustling than the other exit.
That’s my escape.
With only Elora in mind, I take a step forward, before I’m tugged back.
“Not yet,” Thaddeus mouths. He has me pulled so close; I can see his eyes searching the room as well. Perhaps for the other Lords and Ladies.
My heart slams before glancing again at the now empty archway. My chance to slip out unnoticed is dwindling and if I don’t?—
“Lord Thaddeus, what a pleasure,” a voice sounds from behind us.
Thaddeus drops his grip from my arm as we turn in unison to the man at our backs. His dark curly hair is wild and unkept. His green eyes blazing and bright even through his navy mask. Black leaves outline the bottom half above his cheekbones, the sides extending to sharp points.
“Your Majesty,” Lord Thaddeus says, confirming that it is King Roman who stands before me.
My half-brother. My stomach twists as the king glances between Thaddeus and I.
Thaddeus bows, tugging at my black shirt as he does. Following suit, I’m grateful for my mask to conceal my disgust. My rage. As we straighten, my jaw remains clenched to keep from saying something. From lunging forward and using that spiked mask against him.
“Allow me to introduce you to my nephew, Evren, heir to the Jade Guild.”
“It’s an honor to be here, Your Majesty,” I manage to say through gritted teeth. I meet Roman’s eye, and beneath his mask, there’s amusement there. A smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Evren,” he says, perfectly cordial. He brings his chalice to his lips, eyeing me over the cup. “Evren,” he repeats. “Familiar. Have you been to Valebridge before?”
My stomach clenches, my mind racing through all of the details Evren told me of his life before we care.
Guard.
Captain.
Hunter.
Does Roman recognize that I’m not Evren?
Thaddeus bumps my arm, soft enough it goes unnoticed by Roman who continues to study me.
“Briefly,” I say. “But I’m afraid it was so long ago I don’t recall much of it.”
His eyes narrow, as if they’re searching for something.
A memory perhaps.
“I’m honored to be here tonight, Your Majesty.” This softens his gaze, and my stomach settles. “It’s a wonder to experience the beauty of a Valebridge ball firsthand.”
“Happy to have you.” He raises his glass before turning his attention toThaddeus.
They talk as old friends, catching up over the change of the seasons. The blight. But it isn’t until I hear one word that my mind clears and my focus sharpens.
“Yes, the Dyrsjel is here,” Roman says casually, holding his chalice of wine between his first two fingers. I hone in on his movements. The slight sway on his feet, the smirk he’s unabashedly wearing now. The hint of pink across his cheeks.
