“What about the others?” he asks roughly.
“Recovering fine,” says Cygnus.
“That’s good, at least.”
They exchange more words I don’t have context for. Then, after tossing me one more disdainful glance, Cygnus mumbles about being needed elsewhere and drifts away.
When Finn swivels back toward me, his eyes are glistening. “Those aremymen,” he explains in a low voice. “We got ambushed on a mission. I’ve been attending to their families.”
Cold washes down my spine. I feel terrible for every assumption I’ve made about him being off with other women. All this time, I thought he’d been cavorting, but he really hasbeen away on important business—just as his letter said. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He reaches out and seizes my hands. “We shouldn’t talk about it now. But I need to hear everything I’ve missed. You should join us at dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?”My stomach lurches.
“Yes. And I’ll explain more.”
“Where?”
“In the Great Hall. We’re hosting a few guests. You should join us and meet my brothers.” He gives me one of those devilish grins. “And afterward, we can talk more in private.”
Logic and emotion battle within me. I should not get any closer to the royals than absolutely necessary. Proximity invites scrutiny. But the desire to be closer to Finn, physically and emotionally, is overwhelming.
“Tonight,” I agree, breathless.
Finn gives me one more squeeze before gliding back to his soldiers. I feel weightless as I hurry off to tell Daisy. When I pass the Head Healer’s office, I think I catch Cygnus shaking his head.
But I must have imagined it.
I’m grateful when Daisy offers to help me get ready. She picks out a sleek seafoam-green gown with gold trim. The sleeves are gauzy and impractical, hanging nearly to the floor. I’ve never shown so much collar-bone, but she insists the ensemble isfaaabulous.When she reaches for my hair, I’m hesitant to take off my kerchief. To my relief, the concealment charm holds, and Daisy chatters on as usual while arranging my hair in an updo. When she’s done, she drags me to a mirror to admire her work.Though I am exposed with my ears on display, I must admit, I feel beautiful, and I might look it, too.
I’m running late by the time I hurry into the Great Hall and find the party well underway. My pulse thrums as I pause at the threshold, taking it in.
A long table splits the chamber, with fires dancing in the hearths. Dozens of courtiers mill about, sipping sparkling wine or engaged in conversation. I see a mixture of ages and skin tones and shapes, some round and some slim, each more beautifully dressed than the next. I’m flooded with gratitude toward Daisy, as my ensemble feels neither too plain nor ostentatious. With luck, I can blend into the background.
I search the hall for one familiar face and come up empty.
“Lyria, isn’t it?”
“Yes?” I spin at the interruption and come face-to-face with the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen. She might be sixteen or thirty-six; between the makeup and jewels and elaborate coiffure, I can’t be sure. Her dress is pale blue with a fur trim that perfectly sets off her silvery hair.
“I’m Odessa Erik,” she purrs, “princess of Sulnik.” The way her eyes drag up my figure makes me feel like she can see through my clothes.
I squirm. “How did you know my name?”
“I make it a point to know what’s happening at court,” she says, flashing a tight-lipped smile. “Your appointment caused quite the stir. In Sulnik, our Healers are women of the cloth. It’s not consideredproperfor a young lady to work in a hospital. I do admire Verdinae and its liberating customs. So very modern.”
Oh, so it’s like that.
“Feel free to stop by the East Wing sometime.” I return her smirk. “I’d be happy to help with whatever ails you.”
Her smile calcifies, and my Talent flares with the impulse to smack the look right off her beautiful face. Before I have the chance, we’re interrupted by what sounds like a tinkling bell. I look across the room and watch Queen Davina rap her fork against her flute of sparkling wine.
“If you’ll all take your seats,” she says, “I’d like to get dinner started.”
I pick a spot toward the end of the banquet table, as far from Odessa as possible. Another drop-dead-gorgeous woman, this one brunette, takes the one opposite. It doesn’t escape me that the chairs around us remain unfilled. I still haven’t found Finn among the crowd, and when the party settles, it becomes evident that he’s absent.
The possibility creeps over me:What if he’s abandoned me again?
