“Because the emperor required it.”
“Is this something he does often?” I ask.
“No.”
“So almost nobody sees him for three years, and suddenly, he reemerges and then decides to throw a ball the night his mistress is poisoned?”
He pauses in front of a staircase, then turns to me. “Yes.”
I scoff. “You’re not going to give me any information, are you?”
He sighs as he descends the staircase. It’s a rare show of frustration that isn’t aimed at me. In fact, I’m not sure I ever saw any indication of annoyance aimed toward the emperor before. My insides twist. This can’t be good.
I grab his arm and he freezes, his attention going to my hand. I drop it quickly. “You have to tell me something. What am I walking into? She was my lady, Marian. And now she’s dead. I don’t know how things work around here.” I swallow, then blurt out something I know I shouldn’t. “I’m scared.”
His brow furrows. “I didn’t know you were afraid of anything from how you so quickly dismiss your safety.”
“I’m more afraid of the emperor than I am the rebels.” My eyes widen and I press my lips together to prevent myself from saying more. That was so stupid. Why can’t I keep my mouth closed around this man? It’s like I just have to hear myself speak around him. Or maybe it’s because I want to hear him speak.
I’ve been here too long. This man killed my brothers. “Forget it. I’m sure everything is fine.” I resume my descent, not looking back at the enforcer.
Footsteps follow at a distance, but I continue beyond the stairs, down a hall, and into another. If I make a wrong turn, he’ll correct me.
“I don’t know why he did this. As far as I know, he’s never called for a ball without notice and a reason to celebrate,” Brevan suddenly says.
I pause. “So I have a right to be concerned?”
“I have no idea.”
I wait until he’s alongside me, then allow him to lead us the rest of the way. Thankfully, I manage to stay silent for the duration.
We stop in front of the closed double doors. A pair of legionnaires opens them for us so we can enter.
The ballroom has been transformed. Every surface is draped with dark green vines. They climb the walls and dangle from the chandeliers. They wind up chair legs and weave around tables laden with delicacies. Even the servants are wearing wreaths of the same vines.
I tiptoe around the plants, afraid to touch anything. They remind me of the vines that overtook the garden I found. And considering Marian was just poisoned, I don’t think this is a coincidence.
People in formal dress mill around, conversing and drinking from crystal goblets. None of them demonstrate any signs of concern. In fact, they’re laughing and smiling and enjoying themselves.
Charlotte waves to me from across the room. I wave back, then look over at Brevan. Even in a room full of courtiers, he stands out. The uniform fits like it was designed for him. The fabric just tight enough over his shoulders and chest to show his impressive physique. His hair is slicked back in the current style, and while I think he looks better with it loose and messy, there’s no denying he pulls this off well. I hate that he’s the most handsome man in the room.
“Go on,” he says. “I’ll be nearby.”
I also hate that I feel better knowing he’s here.
I join my ladies, complimenting each of them on their gowns. Katherine is missing, though. I scan the crowd for her and hope she’s somewhere in the mass of people.
“Princess Sabina,” a male voice says.
I turn and face an older man with a gray beard and thinning gray hair. He’s dressed in black but has a purple handkerchief stuffed into his breast pocket.
He bows. “It’s an honor to meet you. I am Sir Lennox.” He straightens. “I met your father during the Ruby Wars before you were born. He’s a fair and powerful man. You must pass along my well wishes when you next visit.”
“Of course,” I say, inclining my head. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
He gestures to the women standing next to him. One is probably his age. She has silver hair and an elegant face, though she looks like she’s never once smiled in her entire life. The other is younger, probably twelve or thirteen summers. “My wife, Lady Carol, and my daughter, Margaret.”
“Nice to meet you both,” I say.
