‘What have you done?’ Astrophel thunders, pushing past me to attend his king.
I raise my hands. ‘Nothing, I swear!’
It’s true, in a way. I did nothing. To avoid scandal, my father is already claiming he only sliced his hand on the stone’s sharp facets. But I can’t escape the nagging suspicion I somehow infused the starstone with my anger, my frustration, my fear. I made it injure my father. My splitting head, the taste of death swirling my mouth, it all speaks to my guilt. My curse.
I glance at the shocked faces surrounding me, feel the weight of their mistrustful eyes – one pair more piercing than the others: Blayze’s face is twisted in horror. My body cringes under the judgement of his gaze.
He thinks me a monster.
Well, I know myself one, can already imagine the vicious whispers that will circulate the court, the names they’ll call me. Just as well I’m leaving in the morning.
‘Tis a sign, Radiance. The proper rites must be observed,’ Izarius whispers.
My mother cradles my father’s hand. ‘We should heed the scribe. Not anger the Sisters. Not with our only living child about to leave our sphere of protection. Forgo the handfasting, my lord. Proceed instead with welcoming the Thawlight back to the realm.’
My father looks at her, his jaw tight with pain, and something more than pain. Fear.
At length, he gives a curt wave of his uninjured hand. ‘Light the fuses.’
Astrophel’s face falls as attendants lower torches to the icy ground.
He quickly rearranges his features, disguising his disappointment, but the wilted expression lasts long enough that Blayze and Maris both notice it. They whisper to one another, laugh.
Blayze claps him on the back so hard, Astrophel jolts forwards. ‘Chin up, Peacock. That’s twice she’s jilted you, isn’t it? Third time lucky then, eh?’
‘Unhand me!’
Blayze draws close to Astrophel, thrusts out his jaw, and grins. ‘Make me!’
Stars and Spheres! I’ll have to step in before this night is ruined twice-over. I open my mouth to intervene, but the fire-flowers silence them first.
There’s a loud hissing as fuses ignite and showers of crackling, jewelled light rain down on us. I start and cover my ears, watching until the bursts of colour give way to a thick veil of smoke.
I shudder. The sight of smoke, the stench of burning. It never gets any easier.
Silver speckles my vision again, but it’s not a fire-flower this time – just another whisper.
Beware.
A TASTE AS BITTER AS GOODBYE
LEILANI
WHENWERETURNto the ballroom, roast white peacocks, dressed in their lace-like plumage, fan the length of the tables. I’m shown to my father’s empty place as his injured hand is being tended by the palace healers. At least I’m spared sitting beside Astrophel again – a blessing, as I sorely want to punch my intended in the mouth.
Maris whispers something to Blayze. His lips twitch.
‘Astrophel, it appears your kin are being served for supper,’ Maris simpers, endeavouring to keep a straight face.
‘Best give this course a miss.’ Blayze winks. ‘I assume cannibalismisfrowned upon here?’ He gives a low, throaty chuckle.
No one else is laughing. Everyone looks to Astrophel for a response.
His face falters, but he recovers swiftly. A polished smile turns him, once again, into the picture of unruffled courtly arrogance.
‘You, sir, bring nothing but shame to your lineage. Your own mother must have been embarrassed to whelp such a son. Little wonder your father disowned you, wanted your brother to rule in your stead.’
My ears prick. This is news to me.
