Tariel and Riann said nothing as they briskly walked away, taking a roundabout route back to their boarded-up mansion so that they would not be followed. Calrain was waiting for them in the kitchen, looking quite cheerful, with an impressive amount of food spread out on thecounter.
“I sold a silver cup I found here, and it netted us quite a bit of coin,” he said. “I was able to buy eggs, and some fresh bread, and even some—” He paused, finally seeing their dire faces. “What is it? Did something happen down at thedocks?”
“We were waylaid by two of the royal guard,” Riann said grimly. “They wanted to know why we were enquiring about passage to the Empire, and wanted to take us to their captain for aninterrogation.”
“Riann managed to convince them to let us go by pretending to be a noble with connections,” Tariel said, “but it won’t be long before they figure out it was a ruse, since we gave them a falseaddress.”
“Then Sir Jerrold will know we are in the city for certain,” Calrain said, looking worried. “We need to get out of here before he sniffs out our location. Were you able to find out if any of these ships are leaving for theEmpire?”
“There is only one, belonging to a Maroyan noble named Yarim Itolas,” Tariel said. “But he has been here for months, and no one knows for certain when he plans to leave. The harbor master told us if we do not set sail soon, the passage will ice over, and we will be stuck here untilspring.”
“Then we had best find this Itolas, and quickly,” Calrain said. His eyes lit up, and he broke out into a sudden grin. “Luckily, I think I know just the way to get in touch withhim.”
22
Thankthe gods for Calrain’s resourcefulness,Tariel thought silently as she stepped out of the hired carriage, assisted by the waiting footman. She gazed at the well-lit manor, perched on a cliffside overlooking the sea, where they were about to attend a masquerade ball. Calrain had heard about it while he was at the market, and they had agreed that it was the perfect place to approach Itolas, who was almost certain to bethere.
Tariel smoothed the skirts of the red dress she had altered, pilfered from her unwitting host’s closet. It was a work of art, with filigree patterns embroidered in gold on the bodice and sleeves, and ruffles in the skirt. In fact, it was quite daring for a Fjordland woman, but because it was a masquerade ball, Tariel felt she could get away with it. She and her men had all bought masks the day before, and the red and gold one that covered the upper half of her face matched the rest of her outfitperfectly.
“Are you ready, darling?” Riann drawled, offering her his arm. His mask was midnight with silver embellishments, just like his outfit. Tariel had used her magic to change their features completely so that there was no chance of being recognized, but he was still as handsome asever.
“Yes,” she said, placing a gloved hand on his forearm. She tucked an errant curl over her left ear and walked toward the mansion. Even though she had disguised her dark skin and hair, turning herself into an exact copy of Marilla, she still drew the attention of every man there as they made their way toward the open doubledoors.
“Invitations?” the guard at the door asked. Riann produced the envelope Calrain had given them, and the guard opened the expertly forged letter. “Welcome, Lord and Lady Sansmere.” He inclined his head and allowed them topass.
A servant just inside the door took their coats and waved them on toward the festivities in the ballroom. Though most of the noise came from the ballroom, quite a few guests lounged in other rooms, drinks in their hands as they flirted and giggled with each other. A woman sat in a man’s lap, playing with his hair while she practically pressed her bosom into his face. Tariel imagined that the masks, plus the alcohol, went a long way toward lowering the inhibitions of an otherwise very stoicpeople.
“I think it was a good idea to pose as Marilla and her husband,” Riann said under his breath as they stopped at the refreshments table. “So far, no one has recognizedus.”
Tariel nodded. She had disguised Riann to look like Poltan, the noble who had been so in love with her, and Calrain to look like his cousin. Marilla and her husband had never traveled to the capital, so there was little risk of running into close friends, and if they did happen to run into an acquaintance, they could mimic their mannerisms well enough to pass as the real Lord and LadySansmere.
As they scanned the crowd, making small talk with the guests, Tariel searched for Itolas. It wasn’t hard to find him—his thick, dark hair and swarthy complexion stood out in the crowd, and he wore a splendid glittering gold robe that was quite shocking next to the tamer doublets and trousers the other men at the partywore.
“Rather flamboyant, isn’t he?” Riann murmured as they watched him joke and laugh with the countess who hosted them. The woman seemed charmed, though her husband wasn’t amused at his wife’s fondness for the darkforeigner.
“I think he’s rather handsome,” Tariel said, teasing Riann a bit. From what she could see beyond the mask he wore—a scrap of metal that barely covered the space around his eyes—his face was exotically sculpted, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw dusted with stubble. He turned his head, and Tariel felt a jolt as bold violet eyes met hers. An instant connection formed, making Tariel’s veins sizzle, and she took a step toward him withoutthinking.
“You like him, don’t you?” Riann asked. His voice was without inflection, but Tariel could feel the jealousy stinging along their bond, and she flinched inwardly withguilt.
“As I said, he’s handsome,” she said. The countess said something, and Itolas turned his attention back to her, his white teeth flashing. “I don’t know enough about him to like him, but I should like to find out. Perhaps he would be willing to helpus.”
Riann found her hand and squeezed it. “Just be careful,” hesaid.
She squeezed back, sending a wave of reassurance through the bond. “Iwill.”
They mingled with the other guests while she watched Itolas out of the corner of her eye. Eventually, he took his leave of the countess, and after speaking with a few others, retreated to a corner of the room with a glass of wine. His violet gaze swept the room, sharp withcynicism.
Perhaps the flirtatious foreigner wasn’t as enamored with the Fjordlanders as heappeared.
Surreptitiously, she made her way across the room to lean against a pillar near him. “You look like you’re having a grand time,” she said, allowing a hint of amusement to color her voice as she grabbed a fresh glass of wine from a passing servant. “Is the entertainment not to your liking, myLord?”
Itolas smiled. “Ah. The young woman who stared so boldly at me from across the room.” He raised his glass of wine to her, then took a drink. “The entertainment is…lacking, compared to the great parties and balls I’ve attended in the Empire. This troupe of musicians,” he said, gesturing to the four men playing toward the back of the room, “is quiteunderwhelming.”
Tariel cocked her head—the music sounded fine to her, but she supposed her experience was limited. “Are you merely a critic, or do youplay?”
“I am both,” he said, grinning at her. “If I had brought my kamancheh with me, I would play you a song that would give you chills and make your heart soar higher than the twinklingstars.”
“All at once?” Tariel laughed lightly, but his words charmed her despite herself. There was something inherently romantic about Itolas, and she imagined he was quite thewomanizer.
