My stomach sinks.
I clear my throat. “I thought we would be leaving this morning. After everything that happened—”
“Leave?” He laughs, slapping his thigh. “Jessop’s tit, girl, why would we leave? You need to get yourself washed and dressed. Then get some food in that belly of yours.” He grins wider. "You need to start practicing for your performance tonight.”
I blink at him, certain I must have misheard. “Performance? Whatever do you mean?”
“That’s right.” He nods. “The show must go on, Isla. More than ever, in fact.”
I stare at him, feeling shocked and yet…I should have expected this.
“Master Roland, surely after what happened, it would be best to—?”
“Best to what?” His eyes narrow. “Best to waste the opportunity of a lifetime?”
My mouth goes dry. “Why would this be an opportunity? Staying is risky.”
“Isla, my dear girl.” He steps closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. “The tickets for the next two nights’ shows were sold out within an hour of the sun rising. It’s like the old days, girl. We’ve had to add an extra two performances to keep up with demand. We might even need to add more. People are coming from all over the court just to seeyou. The fair maiden with the beautiful voice.”
No.
My pulse thumps. “Why would they want to see me?”
“Why would they not want to? Some are saying that you brought back a Lost King with your ethereal voice. That you broke an evil spell. They can’t wait to hear it for themselves. To seeyoufor themselves.” His grin is so wide it looks like his face might split. “Turns out that what I thought was terrible luck, a disaster for the troupe, has turned out to be the biggest payday we’ve ever had! We must make the most of this.”
I can barely breathe. Every performance will be scrutinized.
They’ll figure it out. They’ll see through me.
“That’s wonderful,” I lie, forcing a smile.
“I knew you’d be pleased.” Master Roland claps his hands together. “Now, get yourself cleaned up and fed. I want you practicing within the hour. We can’t afford any mistakes tonight. Not with this many eyes on us.” His expression turns serious. “You need to deliver, Isla. We can’t have them leave disappointed. It wouldn’t do at all.”
I nod. “Of course, Master. I won’t let you down.”
“That’s my girl.” He pats my shoulder once, then strides away, already shouting orders at someone across the camp.
Kakara help me.
What am I going to do now?
I duck back into my tent and grab the bucket I keep for washing. I fill it from the water barrels near the edge of camp, keeping my head down as I move.
I should flee, but the thought of trying to make it on my own out in the deadlands leaves me cold.
The water is cold when I pour it over my head, but I welcome the shock of it. It clears some of the fog from my mind. I scrub my face, my neck, my arms, trying to wash away the memory of Captain Corvius’s shadows wrapping around me. It was awful. I scrub some more, using ash to clean my teeth. I’ll chew on some mint leaves after breakfast.
I hurry back to my tent and change into hose and a loose tunic that allows for movement. My fingers fumble with the laces.
I emerge from my tent and head toward the cook fires. The smell of porridge and bread drifts on the air. My stomach growls despite my anxiety.
I’ve barely made it halfway when someone calls me.
“Isla!” Lyre says as she rushes toward me. “Are you alright? We were worried sick.”
“I’m fine. They questioned me and then let me go. No harm done.”
“Kakara be thanked.” She touches her hand to her heart. Then she bites on her lip for a few moments. “Is it true?" She grabs my arm. “Did you really see him? The Shadowfae King?” she whispers the last.
