I dip my fingers into the concoction and gingerly spread a little on to one of my burned shins. The pain recedes almost instantly, the medicine leaching the heat from my skin, leaving behind a glorious cooling sensation. I don’t hesitate before applying the rest of the stuff all over my legs. Then I straighten up, confused.
I haven’t told anyone about what Marina did – not Spinner, not even Flint. Only the Aquatori Heirs and River saw what happened, but neither Kai nor Fjord seem particularly keen to befriend me, and though I met my trainer only this morning he doesn’t strike me as the type to leave secret gifts in any of his students’ rooms. It couldn’t have been Elva, either. Aside from the fact she didn’t know about my burns, she arrived in my rooms after I did.
My thoughts turn to Prince Hal. He surprised me last night, offering to escort me to the feast. Because no matter what impression I might have made during our dance, I’m not exactly everyone’s idea of a desirable companion.
My eyes linger on the pot of medicine. Would it be utter madness to believe he is paying me more attention than he perhaps should?
Madness on his part, maybe, if not on mine.
An hour later I stand with Spinner in a gigantic golden ballroom, trying to ignore the stares.
‘Drink?’ my chaperone asks, as a serf comes darting through the crowd carrying a tray of thin-stemmed glasses.
I shake my head, but Spinner takes two anyway, sipping from each in turn, her large triangular earrings clacking metallically as she tilts her head to the side, admiring herhandiwork. Tonight’s theme – pearls. They hang from my earlobes, are wound round my wrists, threaded through my hair. Even my pale-blue gown is studded with them, the skirts of which brush against my shins as I shift uncomfortably under Spinner’s gaze, yet thanks to the ointment, the pain from my burns is almost entirely gone.
Though I’m grateful to whoever sent the medicine, I suspect that scalding wave is only the start of Marina’s antagonism. It feels personal, somehow. More than that of a competitor, more than loyalty to my cousin. I thought it was about the prince at first, but now I’m not so sure.
I wonder what her next attack will involve. Freezing me to the floor? Pushing me into the pool?
It appears I don’t have to wonder for long, however, as she and Ember suddenly emerge from the crowd, walking arm in arm, their faces twisting into gleeful smiles.
‘Oh,Bla-aze,’ my cousin sing-songs.
My heart plummets. Instinctively, I begin to edge behind Spinner, who, to my horror, pats my arm encouragingly and says, ‘I’ll leave you to your friends!’
I watch helplessly as the two of them advance. For a moment I consider darting away, only it seems I still maintain some dignity, for my feet refuse to move. I glance around desperately for Flint, but there’s no sign of him.
Yet just as Ember and Marina reach me, just as I’ve lost all hope of being rescued, someone appears at my side. Someone dressed in a soft golden shirt, his raven hair combed elegantly back from his face. Relief cascades through me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so pleased to see anyone in all my life.
‘Blaze,’ says Prince Hal warmly. ‘Ember. Marina.’
The three of us curtsy in unison, and I experience a brief spark of satisfaction as Ember’s eyes shutter in surprise.
‘How was your first day of training?’ Hal asks, adjusting his cufflinks.
‘I was just about to ask my cousin the same question,’ Ember simpers.
‘Oh, yes,’ Marina chimes in. ‘I must congratulate you, Blaze. Your performance today was …quite something.’
I lower my gaze, my face flooding with heat.
Hal glances sidelong at me. ‘Sounds intriguing.’
Marina smirks. ‘Well, put it this way, it certainly gave us all something to talk about.’
I have nothing to say for myself, and so I stay silent, burning with shame.
Hal, seeming to sense my discomfort, changes the subject. ‘It’s a little gloomy in here, don’t you think?’ He glances around the ballroom, where the flickering candles cast long, undulating shadows across the walls. Then he holds out a hand, the Imperial sun and eye glowing softly on the back of it. ‘Blaze,’ he says, ‘would you do me the honour?’
I blink. ‘What?’
‘I’ll show you.’
Puzzled, I do as he asks. Hal clasps my hand in both his own, and closes his eyes. For a moment, nothing happens.
Then –light.
Pure light emanating from our hands, as though our brandmarks are fusing together, growing brighter and brighter until Hal lets go of me and throws the beams upward, banishing the shadows and bathing the room in a dazzling golden glow.
