Terilyn had dedicated her life to Eimarille at the behest of two star gods. Such guidance was unheard of within the secretive sect of worshippers. To that end, Blades were far more willing to give aid to her when needed, even if it went against a current contract.
Eimarille was to be queen of Maricol one day. It was written in the stars, and Blades were ever mindful of what the stars told them.
“Kote promised to keep us apprised of any new information he receives in New Haven. Tomorrow we have the ball, and as much as I would love for you to bring back the traitor’s head, I’d rather you remain by my side,” Eimarille said.
They’d been informed of Wyatt Lehan’s disappearance in Solaria the other week, and Eimarille had melted an entire tea set with starfire in her quiet rage. Terilyn had taken it upon herself to head up the search for the missing inventor while here in Amari. Blades were useful for cutting through so many things.
“And theKlovod?”
Eimarille pursed her lips, thinking about the one person who was responsible for all the puppets she’d gathered in her travels over the years. “You’ll meet with him as planned.”
“As my queen commands.”
Eimarille reached out and tucked a long lock of hair behind Terilyn’s ear, searching her lover’s face. So many courtiers saw the other lady as an impassive shadow, never seeing the mirth that danced in her brown eyes, never knowing truly what she was, only knowing that she was Eimarille’s.
Terilyn grasped her fingers and turned to press a kiss to Eimarille’s palm, lips lingering against her skin. “I’ve missed getting to taste you.”
It’d been weeks since they’d last had time together. Eimarille was determined to rectify that. “Tonight, darling.”
Terilyn smiled, heat burning in her gaze for a brief moment, before she released Eimarille’s hand to go and entertain Lisandro. Eimarille watched them play for a few minutes, finding joy in her son’s laughter and the smile on her lover’s face, before she joined them.
Seven
CARIS
The Dhemlan bloodline’s two motor carriages drove behind the ones that carried the Auclair bloodline into the palace grounds. Normally, being a newer bloodline and low on the social hierarchy, Caris’ family would not be accorded an arrival honor with the duchess. But since she’d been Meleri’s ward for the past several years while attending university, the Dhemlan bloodline was treated to the same sort of respect by virtue of association.
“Promise me you will be on your best behavior,” Portia said as she stared out the window at the attendees making their way into the palace.
“Of course, Mother,” Caris said.
The entirety of Ashion’s noble bloodlines was expected to attend the ball tonight. Caris hadn’t even protested wearing the gown Meleri’s servant had delivered to her family’s small estate for the evening’s festivities. It wasn’t often Crown Princess Eimarille Rourke returned home to Ashion, and her scheduled time here in the capital had been the talk of the city for weeks in the lead-up.
It was inescapable, the palpable excitement in the air as their motor carriage rolled to a gentle stop. Tonight’s ball wastheevent of the season, and if one were to miss it, they surely would be considered socially worthless.
A servant opened their motor carriage door, offering his hand to Caris and then Portia as they exited the vehicle amidst the flashing bulbs of the press cordoned off to the side. Caris discreetly smoothed down the skirt of her ball gown. The rich dark blue tulle of the skirt was pinpricked with gold thread that resembled stars falling down from her waist. The golden detail followed the bones of the corset she wore, and the off-the-shoulder look allowed for the gold-and-sapphire choker she wore, loaned out by the duchess, to show off the line of her throat and clavicles.
Caris’ thick, wavy, shoulder-length hair had been tamed into more defined curls. She wore no headdress or tiara, unlike the duchess, who looked like a queen in the deep green gown and diamond tiara with emeralds she wore. The silver metal cane she carried was topped with a clarion crystal, though she had no magic. Caris wondered if there were any spells attached to the cane, as it wasn’t one she’d ever seen the duchess use before.
“Come along, my dear,” Portia said, touching Caris’ elbow.
She fell into step beside her mother, her father playing escort for Portia. Meleri’s children had joined the duchess in front of the wide steps that led to the palace’s main entrance. Lore and Dureau lacked an escort, while Brielle stood with her husband, their children left at home for the evening.
“Shall we?” Meleri asked, smiling as Caris and her parents approached.
Caris bit the inside of her lip, still angry about how the duchess had treated her the other night. She hadn’t been able to confide in her parents about what she was feeling when she’d stormed inside their small Amari home. Caris had ended up taking out her temper on what devices her father had brought with him from Cosian to work on, setting about repairing them to distract herself until she cooled off.
That tangle of fury and—yes—embarrassment came rushing back as she and her parents joined the Auclairs. Caris averted her gaze as she curtsied to the duchess, hoping the rouge on her cheeks was enough to hide her flush.
In hindsight, perhaps she owed Meleri an apology of sorts, but now wasn’t the place to give one. Besides, Caris still had to figure out a way to talk with her old professor and beg him not to say anything about her magic. That, more than Meleri’s anger, was what made Caris want to bite her nails.
All her life, her parents had told her to hide her magic, and shehad. But lately it felt as if her skin wanted to split over her bones and let the aether flow out of her as if she were a waterfall. It’s why she sneaked veils from the duchess’ secret stores and sometimes took missions she should have passed on to others.
Caris wanted tohelp, and her magic let her, even if she wasn’t supposed to use it.
Her heavy thoughts kept her company up the stairs until Lore glided over and nudged her discreetly with an elbow. “You look far too glum for such a grand party we’re about to join. Cheer up, Caris. I’m sure Nathaniel will be happy to see you.”
“I suppose,” Caris said, some of her anxiety fading away at the thought of getting to dance with Nathaniel.
