EMBER
Playing the piano set me so much at ease that I return to the ball without fear. I could credit my conversation with the raven for my change in mood, but I doubt I would have had the gall to flirt with a stranger if I hadn’t released all my trapped fury beforehand. Now all I have to do is evade him, hide from my stepfamily, and try not to hate the rest of the evening.
I catch a glimpse of the raven now and then, and I wonder if he’s looking for me. A small part of me wants to let him find me and spark our conversation back up again, perhaps see who resides beneath that eccentric glamour. But the majority of me is satisfied with what transpired. It’s better not to know. It’s better to disappear before anything like hope or attraction can stir on either end.
Several songs go by, and I get lost in the music once again. Each time I see any hint of either of my stepsisters, I subtly turn course before they notice me. Same goes for Mr. Raven. My stepmother, oddly enough, is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Brother Marus. I can only guess they’ve gone to dine, and good riddance to them both. Of course, my reprieve from Mrs. Coleman is only temporary, for as soon as the ball comes to an end, I’ll be trapped in our cramped cab with her, then back to the Gray Quarter.
After that, this ball will become nothing but a dream. A memory.
I wander toward the dais to get another look at the orchestra, keeping my gaze fixed firmly away from Prince Franco, who had the decency to return to his ball not long ago and now sits slumped on his throne again. I rather enjoyed myself quite well during his brief sojourn, but I’m used to not getting my way.
As I watch the musicians, yearning rises within me again. Despite my time at the piano, it seems I’ll never be sated. Even now, with the feel of piano keys still so fresh on my gloved fingertips, all I want to do is climb up on the dais and claim a seat next to the pianist. I’m so entranced, I nearly miss the familiar head of blonde hair as it enters my periphery. A second too late, I glance to the side and see Clara making a beeline for me. I quickly turn away from the dais but get no more than five steps before her gloved hand grasps my upper arm.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t see me, Ember,” she says as I turn to face her. “Do you think I want to follow you through the entire ballroom?”
I lift my chin, emboldened by the music. “I was only trying to avoid getting in your way. Is that not how you prefer it?”
Clara sneers, an expression so at odds with her elegant glamour. “You are so irritating. I wouldn’t be talking to you at all if Mother hadn’t sent me to find you.”
My stomach drops. “Why does she want to see me?”
“I don’t know,” Clara says with a scoff. “I think we’re leaving.”
“Leaving? But the ball isn’t over.” While I wouldn’t be opposed to an early exit, it’s highly uncharacteristic for my stepmother to leave any social event until everyone of importance has left as well. It can’t be later than ten o’clock.
“Don’t ask me. Ask her.” With that, she walks away, only to whirl around and say, “Come on!”
I dart after my stepsister, and she leads us through the ballroom and out into the hall. There I find Mrs. Coleman and Imogen.
My stepmother releases an irritated sigh as we approach. “It took you long enough. Come along.”
Clara and Imogen flank Mrs. Coleman as she starts down the hall, and I follow a few paces behind. When my stepmother turns down a side corridor, I’m not the only one flashing confused glances her way.
“Mother, where are we going?” Imogen asks. “Why aren’t we heading for the cab?”
Mrs. Coleman’s lips flick into a smug grin. “We aren’t returning to that rusty old cab. We have rooms at the palace for the rest of the season.”
I nearly trip, while Imogen and Clara exchange wide-eyed looks. “How did you do it?” Clara asks.
“When will you girls learn to trust me? You know I have my ways.”
“Mother, rooms at the palace aren’t given out to just anyone,” Imogen says. “Especially not for an entire month. What did you do?”
Mrs. Coleman smiles at her daughter, then slides her gaze to me. Dread sinks my stomach as her expression shifts into something I can’t decipher. “You’ll see.”
* * *
My stepmother leadsus down the hall, up an elaborate staircase, then down a quiet corridor before stopping at a set of doors. She raps once, then smooths her glamoured skirts. Her daughters follow suit, patting their hair and adjusting their gloves. All I can do is fight back the unease that’s been creeping up and down my spine ever since Mrs. Coleman looked at me so strangely. Whatever she’s planned, it can’t be good.
Steps sound from inside the room, and Mrs. Coleman whirls back to me just long enough to hiss, “Take off your mask.”
Too confused to question the demand, I do as I’m told, untying the ribbon that secures the silver mask to my face. As soon as I’m freed from the disguise, the doors swing open to reveal a male figure.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
It’s Brother Marus.
Gone is his mask, giving me a clear look at his face. He appears as young as I first assumed, but there’s no warmth in his dark eyes. And that hateful pin remains firmly on his lapel, making nausea turn in my gut.
