I could not even enjoy my brief moment of calm, plagued as I was by my spinning mind. I shoved down the memories. The faces of those I had killed. The fingers I had taken in punishment. The money I had stolen for an absurdly wealthy man. I pushed them down until the voices were quiet, until I was choking on them.
I laced my mask of resolve.
“You’re alright,” I reminded myself. “It is forthem. You will do this forthem.”
The erratic beat of my heart slowed as I pictured my family. My mother and sister, safe and together and so far from me.
Chapter four
Harkin
The palace was alight with a thousand chandeliers. Softly swaying crystals threw rainbows of delicate light through the ballroom, bouncing off the brightly polished floor and catching on fine jewels worn around the necks of the guests.
The merriment was well underway. Lords and ladies danced and drank and gorged themselves on a meal fit for kings. Guards and servants hovered, ever attentive.
A sickly sweet scent filled the air, sticky with the heat of sweating bodies and spilled liquor.
The Acsillan Palace was alive with Rázuri mágik—with the Goddesses mágik.
I felt it in the comfortable blanket of warmth which wrapped around us, protecting us from the crisp autumn night. I saw it in the flowers that bloomed despite the season and in the waterfall that spilled noiselessly down one wall, its spray never reaching the guests.
Symbols of the Three Goddesses decorated the hall in glittering gold and sparkling silver. Offerings lay bare on the table, and prayers swelled on the lips of the revelers.
A dance ensued as the orchestra swelled, and the room became a sea of silks and tulle, its current swaying like a ceaseless torrent.
The princess was led into the fray by a young lord in a velvet coat. Her dress was pulled in by the symphonic tide, silver skirt glittering luminously against the soft pastels and deep jewel tones of the other gowns.
She was sunlight sapped of its warmth.
I watched them for a beat. I could not remember the last time I had danced, just for the fun of it. Without it being part of some scheme or expectation. I felt a sudden sense of nostalgia for the days when I danced in the kitchen with my sister, when I twirled my mother before the firelight.
But this was not the time to consider the loss my choices had dealt.
I was but a vine upon the wall, keeping a close eye out for the royals. My fine but unremarkable clothing, tidy dark hair, and unbothered expression allowed me to blend in on the outskirts of the festivities.
My mirthless brown eyes scanned the room, shadowed in the low light.
I lifted a drink from a passing tray as I maneuvered through the space. My fingers caught the servant by the wrist, pressing hard against the bounds of my mágik as I slipped past her defenses with ease. When the numbness—the willingness—had settled over her emotions, I asked, “Where is Prince Claudian?”
The servant stared on, blank eyed, and I eased up ever so slightly.
“Claudian,” I repeated.
“Prince Claudian has just arrived,” she replied in a smooth monotone, and I knew she would not remember this conversation. My hold on her mind had burrowed deep.
I released her with a short nod.
The prince strode across the ballroom with resonant steps, impossibly audible in the deafening keen of the ballroom. He drew the princess into another spinning, dipping, flawless waltz.
I sidled closer, focus singular.
A nobleman stumbled into me, reeking of liquor and splashing the remainder of his goblet down my black coat.
At the growing look of upset on the nobleman’s face, I smoothly slipped on one of my many masks. With a twitch of my finger, I flexed my mágik once more, and a wave of calm rolled over the man before me. “Apologies, My Lord. That was my fault entirely. Please accept this fresh drink as penance for my mistake.”
He huffed, reaching for the proffered glass that I held between us. He left without further hassle, and I turned my gaze back to the royals, annoyed at the interruption.
Claudian spun the princess dramatically, letting go of her outstretched hand with a flourish. She stumbled, heel catching in the smallest groove in the marble. The princess went sprawling across the ballroom floor, and the entire party fell silent.
