Eltekon's topiaries were taller and more elaborate than those in the undergarden. Lily's favorite, a flock of sheep, grazed just past the latticed entrance. Three years ago, one of the gardeners had imported a shrub with purple-black leaves and crafted a herding dragon to overlook the flock. Real woollies had no purple coloring, but, then, real sheep weren't green, either.
As diverting as the hedges were, and despite Holic's comments and questions, Lily couldn't keep her mind off the noise in the maze. Of course they weren't alone in the gardens, but she kept hearing boots scuffing and leaves rustling nearby, as if they were being followed. Although more open, the topiary garden offered almost as much privacy as the maze, with tableaux set up and separated by thick, flowering bushes and evergreens. Someone was interested in their scene.
Paranoid, she looked back. Eben's gaze met hers briefly, and then slid over her shoulder. His jaw clenched.
Her head whipped forward, and she gritted her teeth. Runson had found them. No wonder she'd heard noises; he'd been searching the maze again and then followed her here. At least Prince Tharius hadn't somehow escaped.
“Lord Runson,” Hazel said.
Unless he wanted to be rude, Holic couldn't pass on the narrow path with a princess on each arm. Lily wanted to plow Runson down right now. He was in the way in more ways than he knew.
Runson stood his ground. “Princess Hazel, what a pleasure.” Eyes wide in fake surprise, he bowed and then addressed Lily. “Might I speak with you a moment, Your Highness?”
She didn't need this.
Holic looked from Lily to Runson to Hazel, and back again. He studied Eben's face and posture. “I'm sorry, Lord . . . ?”
“Runson,” Hazel said in a flat tone. Shockingly, she didn't offer any further introductions.
“Lord Runson.” Holic smiled. “Could you be more specific? There are three highnesses here, you see.”
Runson's smile vanished.
Lily looked at her feet, lips pressed tightly together, cheeks tight with suppressed laughter. She heard a whisper of a cough behind her. She'd have to bite her tongue if Eben laughed.
Runson shifted but didn't back down. “I would like to have a moment to speak with you, Princess Lily, if you would be so kind.”
Holic ignored Runson right back. “Lily—”
Runson sent a sharp look in Holic’s direction.
“Do you wish to speak with this man?” Holic asked.
She shook her head.
“Well, then, we'll be on our way. Good day, sir.”
Holic's stare should have been enough to speed Runson along, but his feet stayed stubbornly planted. He addressed Lily as if she'd not responded to Holic's question. “You know I'm going to have my way in this. It's now or later, Your Highness.”
Holic's friendly tone grew strained. “Sir, do I need to ask our guard to escort you from the gardens?”
Runson scoffed, but he sobered when Eben stepped forward. They all knew, and probably even Holic guessed, how much Eben would love to escort Runson from anywhere.
He gave Lily a small bow. “Until later, Your Highness.” His boots clicked a quick retreat on the stones.
She doubted that would be the last of him, and now he had her at a greater disadvantage. If she found herself alone with him again, she couldn't divert his proposal, short of giving in to her desire to hit him in the mouth. Not even Riva would condone that. She would have to answer him with a head shake and hope he got the message.
She stepped away from Holic. This outing was over—she needed to get out of sight.
“We should be going.” Hazel patted Holic's arm and let go. “Thank you for . . . everything.” Her smile said she meant it, and Holic beamed in return.
Hazel hesitated, and that told Lily more than any words. Lily couldn't ensure anyone's happiness, but she would do what she could. Taking Hazel's hand, she placed it back on Holic's arm and pointed towards the wildflower garden, giving them both a nudge.
“Lily, I can't—”
Lily waved her arms around like Melantha did to ward off something she didn't want to hear.
“I think your sister wants to avoid abandoning the foreign prince. It seems you're to be her replacement.” His smile got bigger, if that was possible. She'd guessed correctly, then, at least on his part.
“But . . .”
And probably on Hazel's part, too, judging by the silence coming from her open mouth. Hazel might be aghast at being attracted to someone who wasn't an heir, but she couldn't deny it. This would give her an excuse to spend time with Holic and not feel she was abandoning her life goal.
“Shall we?” Holic took a step in the direction Lily had indicated. “It's an order from your crown princess, so we'd better listen. Don't you think? And someone needs to explain what that was all about.”
Hazel frowned, but a smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help herself, and Lily was glad for her. Lily nudged them again, and they strolled off, neither one of them looking back.
Lily headed for the opposite end of the topiary garden, away from where Runson had disappeared, although he could be anywhere by now. He could be lurking on the other side of the bushes. But she wasn't alone, so she put it out of her mind.
Eben stepped into place behind her. His boots struck hard against the stone. She wasn't sure who he was angry at. Her? Runson? Not Holic, surely. That would mean he was jealous, and he didn't have those kind of feelings. Did he?
They entered the palace, and she feigned interest in the view outside the windows, the tapestries, the paintings. The tiles. Anything to avoid greeting people. She could have nodded and not been considered rude, but she had no desire to interact with anyone just now. Except Eben.
He offered her a few words while a guard held open the sitting room door. “So, you can't talk right now?”
She shook her head, wishing she could elaborate.
“I guess that explains . . . some things.”
He said nothing else. She let the door close, leaving him confused. And still angry.
She woke later on her bed to soft candlelight and hushed bustling as the girls readied themselves for their return to the undergarden. Mara thrust a cold meat pie into her hands, and Gwen tied her slippers on as she ate. The worn shoes didn't match her dress, but it didn't matter. The illusions would change them. And before that, they would be invisible.
Melantha still wore her boots. Lily pointed and raised an eyebrow, questioning her choice.
“You know I live in boots.”
“Mel, you can't dance in those.” Gwen finished tying her own slippers and tossed Melantha's over.
Melantha caught them and threw them under the bed. “I'm not dancing.”
“Then you can stand with Ivy.”
“Maybe I will.” She winked at Ivy. They both knew she couldn't stay still for that long.
Lily finished the meat pie and wiped her hands on her dress. No one would see the grease stains, either.
“Can we take a candle?” Junia asked.
Coral shook her head and fluffed her red waves. “It would be invisible.”
“Would it?” Azure fetched a lit candle. “Let's try.”
The girls formed a line. Lily took Melantha's hand, and they disappeared.
“Interesting,” Neylan said.
Coral was partly right. The candle vanished, but the flame burned bright, casting shadows and floating about as Azure moved. Someone blew it out, and a puff of smoke rose in the middle of the room.
Lily gave a fresh candle and flint to Melantha, who stowed them in the belt pouch hanging next to one of her daggers. Junia mouthed a thank you.
Gwen lined the girls up at the door, and Lily peeked out the spy hole.
Their tower rose from a corner of the palace, so that two hallways led from the door. Tonight, two guards patrolled. Someone had ordered an extra guard. Maybe Eben. She wanted it to be Eben, to believe that he suspected something and took precautions to ensure their safety. Even if it was useless.
“What do you see?” Wren whispered, and someone shushed her.
Lily watched long enough to see the guards walk all the way to the end, one in each hallway, and then turn back. She would have less than a minute to lead the girls out while the guards turned their backs to the door. She took Melantha's hand, thankful that their door didn't squeak and groan.
A short breath, in and out. Now.
She pushed the door slowly, just in case, and led the girls out quickly. Hazel eased it shut, and the small click sounded like the fall of a rock.
Stone cooled her back as she inched along the wall. The guard turned, heading back towards the door. She froze; her heart drummed in her ears, but he didn't see them.
Barely daring to breath, she crept on.
Halfway there. Two feet from the nearest guard.
Someone sniffled, just a whisper of a sound. Lily halted again, and the guard paused, looking up and down the hall. He stepped to the window directly in front of her, and she held her breath.
He was six inches away.
Sweat beaded above her lip.
This wasn't going to work.
But it did. Satisfied that there was no danger, the guard moved on.
Breathing more heavily than she liked, Lily led the girls down the stairs, through hallways, and into the maze, avoiding three maids, one guard, and a courtier stumbling in late from the festival.
They made it as far as the rose-covered fountain. She stopped and wiped her sweaty hands on her dress. She dreaded the return trip but was thankful there would be one.
Melantha led with the candle, and Junia followed close to be near the light. Lily was content to let them go first. Even with a map, she wouldn't have trusted herself to find the mirror right now.
Melantha found it easily, nestled among the firethorns, just as it had been yesterday—had it been only yesterday?—and plunged through the imaginary hedge.
Lily fixed her eyes on the yellow flame rather than the cold silver glow in the distance. How could she have mistaken that for moonlight? The hedge gave way to stone, and she counted the stairs again to take her mind off the way the grey walls absorbed the light, rather than reflected it. She'd missed the first fifty or so, so she started there.
By the time they reached the black forest, she'd lost count again. She let go of Junia's hand, and the other girls broke into twos and threes, huddling close.
Melantha stepped off the path and held the candle up to a tree. “Look at this.” The ruby and emerald gashes threw back sharp rainbows, and the obsidian trunk shone with depths of purple, blue, deep gold, and blood red.
“It's beautiful,” Hazel said. She had nothing in her collection to compare.
“If we're done playing with shiny trees,” Mara said, “can we get this over with?”
Melantha blew out the candle, and they walked silently to the archway.
Prince Tharius waited on the other side, dressed as he had been the previous night, except he wore no gloves.
Foot poised to step through the arch, Lily remembered that she could speak. She turned to her sisters, mouth open, but had no words. Or, rather, she had so many built up that she couldn't choose which ones to say.
“We understand,” Neylan said. “Go on.”
Lily took a deep breath. She would gather her thoughts and speak with the girls before the night ended. For now, she gathered her courage and hastened into the undergarden. Her new gown hissed as she spun to watch the girls' transformations. Once through, they each wore unique dresses, different from the previous night, but the dark color scheme hadn't changed.
The archway had encased her in a gown of shiny black dragon leather, held up by a tight corset and golden straps. The weight of it pressed her feet uncomfortably into the ground.
Ivy came through last, hand-in-hand with Gwen. Lily gasped at Ivy's dress and then glanced around, half hoping a shawl would appear out of nowhere.
A ripping sound, a shriek from Coral, and Hazel wrapped a length of delicate black lace around Ivy's shoulders and across her front.
“Did you have to do that?” Coral shook out her gown as if she expected it to repair itself. She could easily spare more lace. Except for transparent sleeves, black lace draped the entire length of her. Even Coral might not realize how stunning she looked in such a dress with her hair flowing soft and loose. She was, by far, one of the most colorful things in the undergarden.
Prince Tharius's courtiers noticed. They waited, eager to escort the girls onto the dance floor. He waved them over.
After getting Lily's nod of approval, the girls let themselves be led away, and she followed with Prince Tharius. No detours tonight. They joined the others on the polished earth floor in a frenzied whirl of shadows and candlelight. The music played too fast and too loud, and Lily could only focus on his eyes. She wondered how they didn't crash into the other couples. Two dances left her gasping in the tight gown. The music softened, and Prince Tharius led her off the floor. He had not said a word.
They walked to the bridge, and she sat stiffly, but gratefully, on the hard stone bench.
He joined her. “I am pleased to see you again.”
His voice—deep and dark, like his home—sent a chill up her spine. She couldn't say the same, since it meant returning to this place, so she said nothing. She'd already gotten used to that.
He twisted a small ring on his finger.
“May I?” she said.
He did not remove the ring, and so she took the offered hand to get a closer look. His fingers twitched. Twelve stones, as black as the underground sky, were set in gold around an oblong piece of glass. Underneath, flaxen strands had been woven into a simple, tiny braid. More black stones spilled down the sides.
The hair was lighter than Hazel's. “Your Mother's?” If so, he must favor his father.
“Yes.”
“What was she like?”
“She was beautiful.” He adjusted the ring. “And kind.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Then you're the only one, besides me.” He wound his fingers with hers and laid them on her knee. “They blame her, you know.” He tipped his chin towards the white-haired men on the dance floor. “The sorcerer wanted her. He cursed my father and grandfather, hoping she would leave them. She shouldn't have died in the dark.”
“No one should.”
“No one?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, you have decided?” He leaned close, and the scent of oranges and jasmine wrapped around her.
“Decided?”
“To marry me. To release me from this curse.” When she didn't answer right away, his voice rose. “To grant me freedom from the tyranny of a man I never met.”
She couldn't say yes, but she feared what he might do if she said no. “Are you sure there's no other way out?” He pulled his hands away, and she rushed on. “At least for me and my sisters. If we were free to speak to someone, we might be able to find help.”
“I told you already, my dear, you're the only help I need.”
“But what about my sisters?”
“You're avoiding my question.”
Of course she was.
“Or you've made up your mind to refuse me.” He stood. “You would trap me here, steal your sisters' futures. You came to me in my despair, Lily. You are my hope. My light. The one I've been waiting for.” He lashed out at a bush, scattering leaves and twigs with a sweep of his arm. “This place killed my mother!” He stomped to the bridge and paced across its length.
Lily stayed on the bench, not trusting her legs to hold her, especially in the heavy leather gown. She gripped the edges of the rough stone on either side of her legs. Everything about this place was rough, or dark, or warped in some way. Even Prince Tharius. He was handsome. Alarmingly handsome, but there was a dangerous spark burning him from within. “Understand your enemies as well as you understand your friends,” Father once said. She wasn't sure if Prince Tharius was her enemy or her friend, but she didn't understand him.
“Lily, come dance with me!” Azure bounded up, covered from chin to wrist in deep, iridescent blue and in danger of losing half the peacock feathers on her skirt.
She stood, but hesitated.
Prince Tharius stopped pacing and stood with fists clenched at his sides. “Go then,” he said, and it sounded like a growl.
She went. “Azure, your gown is—”
“I know. It brings out my eyes.” Azure pulled her onto the floor and took the lead.
It had been too long since Lily had danced with her sisters. She wished the circumstances were different.
Azure lowered her voice, mimicking a previous partner. “'I haven't seen eyes so fair since our dear princess was alive.'”
Prince Tharius must have gotten all of his dark coloring from his father. She knew so little about him. If she wanted to understand him, she needed to find out more.
“Switch partners with me,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“I need to speak to some of his courtiers.”
“They'll just compliment you until you want to stick a feather in their face.”
Ummm.
“It was an accident.” Azure plucked a feather from her gown and waved it. “Whoever makes these needs to take sewing lessons.”
“Just switch with me.”
“Looks like your fiancé has decided to join us.”
“He's not my—” Oh, dear. He kind of was.
He and Hazel spun among the dancers, both real and shadow. While Coral added color to the undergarden, Hazel added light. Prince Tharius paid no heed to either. He watched only Lily.
Azure guided them near Mara and her partner, who eagerly took Lily into his arms. He said little, content to hold her too close and ogle. He stumbled a few times on her skirt, but he kept on, even when the music picked up speed.
“Your sisters are charming,” he said, wheezing. She could barely hear him over the invisible orchestra. “Good dancers.”
“Yes.” She'd better try to get something useful out of him before he fell outright or stepped on her feet. They were sore enough already. “His Highness is quite a good dancer, too. I suppose he learned from his mother.”
“Some.”
“It must have been difficult for her to raise a child in such an environment.”
“Didn't do much raising. Dead and all that.” His foot caught in her skirt, but he hopped a little step and kept going.
“I saw his ring. He said she was very beautiful and kind, but I suppose he would think so.”
“She was beautiful. He's much like her. Except his coloring.” He smirked, but quickly turned it into an over-polite baring of teeth and stopped dancing. He passed her off to Prince Tharius without uttering a word.
Prince Tharius studied her face as they danced, his thumb tracing across the leather at her waist. The music slowed, and he kept close as the girls drifted in and out of the shadows. She would have no chance to talk to them tonight. She had wasted her time with Azure, and she knew no more about the prince.
She lost count of the dances. If her feet could talk, they would tell her the exact number.
“You'll want to leave soon.” His voice rumbled.
She said nothing.
“I hope you can overlook my outburst. I grow weary of my captivity.” He led her out of the candlelight and onto the path towards the archway.
In a few moments, the girls followed, but they kept their distance.
“I don't know if you can understand what it's like to have what I want so close and not be able to grasp it.”
She understood.
Prince Tharius took her hand off his arm and held it in his own, lacing their fingers together as they walked. It felt too intimate, and she wanted to pull away, but they had almost reached the broken gate.
“Don't take too much time deciding you want what's meant to be,” he said.
The girls passed them, wasting no time going through the archway. Prince Tharius let her go reluctantly, stretching his arm out to touch her as long as possible. When she reached the bend in the path, she looked back. He was gone.
She didn't know much about sorcery, and she suspected he knew more than he let on, but she was determined to find a way out of this that didn't require putting a sorcerer on the throne of Ituria.