Alessia snorted, her green eyes bright and venomous. “Why would you want to go there? It’s practically a wasteland—nothing but salt flats and barbaric Northerners as far as the eye can see. They’d eat you alive.” She lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped, one brow raised, as though daring the others to challenge her.
Anabella chewed her lip and looked down at her pastry, but Sofia, the eldest of the group, elbowed her gently in the ribs. “I think you’re brave enough to handle the Northern men, Ana. You’d have them building you fires and knitting you stockings with one flutter of those long lashes. It’s not their fault they’re so uncivilised, you’d soon teach them proper manners.”
Ana beamed, a blush warming her olive skin. Issy gave her an encouraging smile from the opposite side of the table, and Livia nodded enthusiastically, licking butter and pastry crumbs from her long fingers.
“Sofia’s right, they’d be fighting over which one of them got to take you as their bride.”
Ana’s bashfulness turned to horror, her mouth falling open, and a few of the girls laughed. The sound was like claws on slate to Issy. She wouldn’t wish such a thing on her worst enemy, let alone sweet Anabella.
Ilona tossed her honey blonde hair over a tanned shoulder and winked at Alessia, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You definitely wouldn’t find cakes like these in the Silver Isle.” She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “I heard they only eat salted fish and greens.”
Issy suppressed a shudder. Life in the Northern Isle sounded perfectly grim.
Alessia threw her head back and laughed, slopping tea from her cup onto the saucer.
Eliana leaned forward, strands of silky black hair falling around her heart-shaped face. She snatched the half-eatenpastry off Ana’s plate, popping it into her mouth and speaking around it. “And it’s dark there for half of the year. How can they live like that? I’d go spare if I couldn’t see the sun for that long.”
Esmeralda, Eliana’s older sister, narrowed her green eyes and smacked her sister on the arm. “Eli, don’t talk with your mouth full.” But Eli just stuck her tongue out, cheeks full and round, like a beautiful, overgrown rodent.
Issy grinned, a swell of emotion in her chest. These girls were her family—almost as close to her as her actual sister. They spent every day together; practicing, performing, or gossiping at the pasteleria over tea and cakes. Those were the only times they could be themselves—no parents or tutors expecting them to behave like ladies, tutting when they slouched in their chairs or laughed too loud. No potential suitors to impress or foreign dignitaries to charm.
Issy knew she’d had a close call at the theatre the other night, and worry nagged at her in the quiet moments. What if it had been a targeted attack by the Silvers? What if it happened again? She watched Livia, who was laughing raucously at something Adriana had said, her bronze skin flushed with joy and youth. If anything happened to her—if the Silvers, or anyone else, hurt Livia—Issy wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. She’d already lost her mother, she couldn’t bear to lose her sister, too.
With everything going on, she expected her father was looking for any excuse to forbid her and Livia from dancing publicly—or even leaving the palace. She was surprised he hadn’t already called them both into his study to tell them his decision. She could only imagine he remembered the happiness their dancing had brought to their mother before she died and was reluctant to lose this last connection to her. But seeing his daughter attacked on stage by a rogue Silver must have severely dented his resolve.
“I’m sure our father will get to the bottom of why he’s here, and deal with him accordingly.” Issy’s voice was firm and confident, but inside she felt anxiety gnawing at her stomach. She hoped the Northerner would be sent home and she’d never have to think about him again. Not his striking blue eyes, not his strange dusky scent.
Something tugged in her gut, and she pushed it down. Everything would go back to normal once the Silver was gone.
A heavy silence settled over the table as the girls finished their desserts and drained their teacups.
Maya locked eyes with Issy, a crease forming between her arched brows. Widely considered the most beautiful of the girls, at twenty years old Maya had turned down a number of suitors already, with her parents’ approval. With her full lips, smooth, dark brown skin and midnight black curls, she could have had any man in Orovia. In all of the Golden Isle, for that matter. But her mother had set her sights a little higher than the average baron or landowner. She wanted her daughter to marry a prince, and Issy had complete confidence that Maya would one day find her handsome prince and be whisked away to some distant land to live happily ever after.
But, right now, she was looking at Issy with concern in her deep brown eyes, and Issy knew what she was about to ask.
“Why do you think this is happening?” She didn’t need to elaborate, Issy knew what she was referring to.
Gabriella, sitting beside Issy, dropped her voice to a whisper. Her brown eyes shone. “Do you think we’re being punished for something?”
Issy shook her head and placed a hand on Gabi’s arm. “No, of course not. We’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve no idea why this is happening to us. I’m sure it won’t last much longer. My father’s men will find out who or what is responsible and put a stop to it. I know it.”
She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She didn’t even know where to start figuring out the reason for the curse, let alone who had cursed them. It did seem like strange timing that right when the Golden princesses were under a mysterious enchantment, a Silver savage had thrown himself at her on the stage.
Did the Northerner know something about this curse? Was he responsible somehow? She couldn’t quite believe it, but then again, she didn’t believe in coincidences either.
Issy couldn’t talk to her father about her concerns or he’d definitely forbid them from performing publicly, and that would take away the one last piece of normality they had left. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to get them herself.
She shoved the rest of her tart in her mouth and chewed, swallowing hard and washing it down with the dregs of her cold tea. She’d decided. The following morning, before her father woke, she would sneak down to the dungeons and confront the Silver brute. If he knew something, she would soon find out.
Chapter 4
Anders
Anders lay on the hard, wooden cot in his cell, staring at the damp, stone ceiling. Two nights had passed in the dungeons beneath the Gilded Palace and Anders had barely slept a wink. As a soldier, he was used to a hubbub at all hours; the heavy footsteps of the guards on patrol, the banging of drums, the shouts and cannon fire. He could sleep through it all, comforted by the constant toing and froing around him.
The dungeons, on the other hand, were too quiet.
Down here, with only a single guard on duty, and no other prisoners, there was nothing but silence. Broken only by the monotonous dripping of water from somewhere above. To Anders, it was the worst form of torture.
