I take a sip of my drink and concentrate on keeping my face blank. I shouldn’t take this to heart. It is not personal. It is simply the way people are.
But I can’t deny it stings. I thought Blake was nice, and I have no idea what I have ever done to him to piss him off.
He edges closer to me, and his hand brushes over mine. Reflexively, I take the piece of paper he passes me and I hide it in my palm.
“This was one last favour to an old friend,” he whispers. He takes a sip of his drink, looking for all the world like the king of nonchalant. “I am done with the Resistance. Please don’t ask me to do anything else, not even to send a return message.”
With that, he strides back out onto the dance floor and disappears into the crowd.
The piece of paper feels as if it is burning my hand. Not with sorcery. With guilt and fear and the weight of expectations.
Blake believes I am with the Resistance? Blake himself was with the Resistance?
I gulp down the last of my juice. I need something stronger. Far stronger.
I find a pocket in my robes and shove the note in. Blake is mistaken, but surely whoever sent him is not? They have to know I’m a nothing and a nobody.
This secret message is not for me. It has to be for my husband.
I turn to the table and pick up a goblet of mead. I lift it straight to my lips and drink deeply. The sweet taste has a bite to it, and it helps clear my mind.
Why have I been trusted with being a messenger? It is a risky move. Nobody knows where my loyalties lie, because I don’t even know where my loyalties lie. I haven’t had time to figure that out.
Are people assuming Selwyn has told me things? Or has there been some sort of mixup and it is not only Blake who thinks I’m with the Resistance?
Is this some sort of test?
If so, how the hell do I pass?
Chapter twenty-seven
Ican’t breathe. The air is too tight and too pressing. All the dancers on the dance floor are swirling and twirling and making me dizzy.
The piece of paper in my pocket is heavier than lead. Its presence is burning brighter than a spotlight, blazing out of my robes and showing everyone that I have it.
I know it is all in my imagination, but it feels real enough to be terrifying. My pulse is racing. I’m sweating. Even my knees are shaking.
If only Loki were here. She is only a puppy, but having her by my side is so comforting. In the future I am going to take her with me everywhere I go.
In the meantime, I have to get out of here. Before I fall apart completely.
Selwyn is still surrounded by a horde. Which actually is a good thing because seeing him right now is the last thing I need. He’d know immediately that something was wrong, and I’d blurt out something about him being a traitor.
I glance longingly at the door. It should be fine to leave. Selwyn only invited me at the very last minute, so presumably my attendance is not essential.
As I fret, a servant approaches the drinks table beside me and begins replenishing it.
I look back over at the door. It is open now, and the dark hallway beyond it looks so inviting.
“When Prince Selwyn is free, please tell him that I have returned to our rooms to check on my puppy,” I blurt to the servant, causing the poor young man to startle.
I hurry away before he has a chance to respond to my request. It takes mere seconds to escape the ballroom, and as the quiet of the hallway settles over me, I can finally breathe.
I’m going to be back in my rooms and snuggling Loki in no time at all. My feet pick up the pace until I’m practically running.
I turn a corner, and the sound of voices reaches me. I slow to a sedate walk before anyone catches me acting crazy. There is a huddle of three people up ahead, and I have to walk past them. If I walk calmly, they might not notice me.
My heart races as I get closer. I keep my eyes firmly straight ahead, but I can still see that it is a man and a woman who have a third person crowded up against a shallow alcove.
