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Adelaide wandered the ballroom as discretely as possible, but she couldn’t avoid people’s eyes, their whispers, or sometimes their conversation. She faked politeness and, as the hall filled and the music changed from peaceful background music to dances, gently turned down a couple offers to dance.
The afternoon sped on. The angle of the sunlight through the stained-glass windows changed and dimmed as evening approached. She saw Regulus several times, but no sign of Kirven or Nolan. Part of her felt relieved, as if nothing would actually happen. But deep down, she knew that was ridiculous. They would be here. Sooner or later.
She nursed a goblet of wine and scanned the crowd. Breck stepped up next to her, far too close for her comfort. “Getting intoxicated on duty, are we?”
Adelaide snorted. “Blending in as per your orders, sir.”
“Right.” He put a hand on the small of her back. She couldn’t repress her shudder, and her involuntary reaction made Breck snicker. He leaned in to whisper, his breath tickling her ear. “Don’t get carried away. If you get drunk while on duty, that’ll be that lashing I owe you.” He walked away.
She pressed her eyes closed, then left the goblet on a nearby table and continued to meander. Couples twirled around the dance floor, making her wish this was just a party, and she was in Regulus’ arms. She looked across the dancers, searching for Regulus. Just seeing him would help calm her jittery nerves.
Someone stepped up behind her and a gentle hand brushed her hair behind her shoulder. A slow smile pulled at her mouth.
“You look ravishing, love,” Nolan whispered close by her ear.
An invisible rope coiled around her chest. In spite of how much she had thought about being strong when she saw him, she trembled. Something sharp pressed against her ribs as he kissed the side of her neck. Her stomach lurched. Her breath stuttered and the muscles in her neck and back went taut.
“How’d you get a weapon in here?” Adelaide whispered, trying to control the pounding of her heart.
“Oh, it’s just a tiny blade I had up my sleeve.” Nolan ran his knuckles over her jaw in a caress that made her skin crawl. “But it’s enough to do some decent damage. Nothing you can’t heal, based on the fact Hargreaves is alive. I’m disappointed, but I suppose I’ll simply kill him a second time.”
“I’m surprised you had the mettle to show up after you ran away last time.” The tip of the knife pressed deeper into her side, threatening to break through her dress.
“I had been run through with a sword four times,” he snapped. “I knew it was pointless to waste my time fighting you in that state. It was a tactical decision.”
“Right. I’m going to turn around now.” She turned slowly, but he didn’t stab her. Nolan wore a black doublet with gold stitching, and a matching mask. Facing him made Adelaide flash back to the last time she saw him, and it made her dizzy. Focus. It’s different this time. She kept her voice low. “As a member of the royal guard, I’m placing you under arrest for treason.”
“Really?” Nolan laughed. “So, the rumors around town a woman joined the royal guard are true. I suspected it was you.” He adjusted the knife’s point against her side. “But if you arrest me, you’ll be too busy with me to find Kirven.”
“Where is he?” She looked around. “Is he here?”
Nolan clicked his tongue. “What would be the fun in telling you that?” He took her hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Are you going to stab me if I say no?”
“It’s just a dance.” He smiled. “Don’t say no and we won’t have to find out.”
“Fine.” She lifted her chin, determined not to let him see her fear. “But put the knife away or I’ll step on your feet.”
He chuckled. “Maybe I want to keep it out to make sure you don’t try anything stupid.”
“Maybe I’m trying to keep a low profile until I find Kirven and think dancing is as good a way to do that as any.” She met his eyes, even as her stomach twisted in on itself.
“Deal.” Nolan’s hand left her side and he slipped the short, thin knife up his sleeve then showed her his empty hands. “Satisfied?”
“I will be when you’re either dead or in prison.”
Nolan took her arm. “With that mouth, you’re awfully lucky you’re so attractive.” A crooked, leering smile replaced his frown as he pulled her against him on the dance floor. “But at least your mouth is excellent for kissing.” He pressed his lips to hers. Adelaide gasped and pulled back, but he yanked her forward again.
“Ah-ah,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t cause a scene, love. You wanted to blend in.” Her legs shook and she squeezed her eyes shut, the blood draining from her face as he kissed her. He pulled back and moved her hands into position for the dance.
She stumbled over the first several steps, her mind numb. She could still feel him, taste him. Her knees shook. She tripped and mumbled an apology. We should have had a better plan. As they brushed past other couples, she searched for Kirven to keep her mind off Nolan. Why did Kirven have to be so short? She caught glimpses of Regulus on the other side of the room, his head rising above most of the other guests. She focused on him.
“I feel like you’re ignoring me, which makes you a poor dance partner.” Nolan pulled her closer. “Give in, Adelaide. I know you want to.”
Panic squeezed at her throat. I’m not helpless. I’m not trapped. But it didn’t feel true, and her heart hammered against her ribs like it wanted to escape its cage. She stared over his shoulder; every ounce of her shaking concentration focused on moving her feet in time to the music.
Captain Matthews and Lieutenant Breck stood conversing near one of the servant entrances, near two other royal guards. She wondered how to lead their dance toward them without being obvious. Surely the five of them could restrain Nolan. She purposefully mis-stepped so Nolan’s foot landed on top of hers. She gasped and dropped her hand from his shoulder, exaggerating her limp.
Nolan steadied her. “Are you all right?”
“I think I just...need to sit down for a moment.” She put some weight on the foot and stumbled, wincing and sucking in a breath to sell it. Not that it didn’t hurt—her big toe throbbed—but it wasn’t that bad. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Help me off the floor?”
“Least I can do.” He beamed as she leaned on him and took the opportunity to loop his arm around her waist. She tried not to let her aversion show while she hobbled toward a bench near Matthews and Breck. She kept her head turned toward the bench but looked toward the officers. Breck caught her gaze and rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. Adelaide glanced toward Nolan, then back at them. Breck just shook his head.
Nolan helped her onto the bench. “Here, let me look at it.” He knelt and pulled her boot out from under her dress.
Adelaide risked looking over her shoulder at the officers and pointed at Nolan. She dropped her hand and looked back just as Nolan looked up from her boot.
“Feels swollen. But, you know,” he said, massaging her foot through her boot, “it wouldn’t have happened if you’d done the proper steps.”
“I know.”
“I am sorry, though.” His hand moved to her ankle, wandering up her calf as he smirked, his eyes filled with desire. Her throat constricted. “Let me make it up to you.”
“Belanger,” Breck said, approaching with Matthews. Nolan looked at them, his brow creasing. “If you’re trying to point out that you’re doing the exact opposite of what I said—”
“It’s Nolan Carrick.” Adelaide’s palms glowed blue. Time to try something new. Nolan stood, but the ropes she formed out of her magic curled around him, tying his arms to his sides. Matthews and Breck drew their swords. The people standing near them gasped and moved away.
“I’m disappointed, love.” Nolan strained against the glowing ropes. Keeping them in place felt like trying to maintain a barrier against Kirven’s attacks. “But you’re too late.”
Trumpets bugled, signaling the royal family’s arrival. Adelaide looked toward the dais, her heart sinking as the crowd turned toward the end of the hall. The king walked to the large gilded throne in the center of the dais, trailed by the royal family. Guards stood in a line in front of the dais. The king raised his hand in a welcoming gesture.
The windows imploded. Women screamed and men shouted as colored glass crashed across the room. Most of the candles went out. Nolan kicked Adelaide in the face, and she catapulted backward over the bench. Her mask cracked in half and fell. Pain exploded over her face and blood poured out of her nose. She lost control of the ropes binding Nolan as her vision blacked out; her pulse hammered in her face.
Her head weighed her down and her eyes watered. Adelaide’s hand shook as she held it to her shattered nose, unable to see anything as she healed herself. The ringing in her ears added to the cacophony of the hall. The pain subsided, her nose making sickening snapping sounds as it returned to its normal shape. Her vision cleared.
By the time she straightened, which couldn’t have been much more than a minute, Nolan was gone. Breck lay on the floor, his eyes glazed over and his head at an impossible angle. Matthews slumped against a glass-covered food table, blood trickling out of his mouth and pouring out of his stomach. Breck’s sword was missing. Worse was the chaos in the ballroom.
Kirven floated over the crowd, a swirl of green light around his feet. His flowing black and blood-red robes glittered with gold embroidery. He held his arms out to his sides with the Staff of Nightfall in his right hand. Green lightning crackled from the top of the staff, reaching into the panicking crowd. Screaming echoed in the rafters as men and women, young and old, nobles and servants, were struck by the grasping tendrils of lightning and fell to the glass-strewn floor, their lifeless bodies smoking. She could never shield them all, and despair tugged at her soul. Nobles ran past, but cries of anguish dragged Adelaide’s attention toward the exit. Kirven had blocked it. The lightning stopped, leaving behind the smell of burned bodies.
“Hello, brother.” Kirven’s voice resounded over the hall and the crowd quieted, too shocked to say anything. A shudder raised goosebumps on Adelaide’s arms. This wouldn’t be like last time. She was more prepared.
Guards huddled around the royal family. Barriers of shimmering green light and blocked the doors behind the dais. Father and Dresden stood among the guards shielding the king from Kirven, their swords drawn. Her gut pinched. No.
“I have no brother.” The king’s voice carried through the hall.
“Now that’s just cruel,” Kirven said. “But then, I am here to claim my throne and kill you and your family, so fair.” The opal in the staff emitted an emerald glow.
Adelaide shoved her hands forward. The blue light barrier rose in time to block the fireball Kirven threw at the cluster of guards. She expanded the barrier until it reached from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Kirven cursed. People screamed and shouted about sorcery and magic as they pushed to get through Kirven’s barrier.
“The windows!” someone shouted. Guests and servants scrambled out the now-empty windows.
Kirven barraged Adelaide’s barrier with bursts of green light, flames, and more lightning. The guards attempted to break down Kirven’s barriers over both rear doors. Satisfied she could keep the barrier up, Adelaide conjured a spear and threw it at Kirven’s back. At the last moment he turned and knocked the spear away. He looked around, face twisted in anger, searching the surging mass of bodies escaping through the windows.
“Belanger!” He hurled a massive fireball into the crowd, and she barely managed to shield the fleeing innocents. “Where are you?”
Adelaide opened her mouth, but before she could answer, she gripped her side and doubled over in pain. It felt like someone had stabbed through the side of her abdomen, just above her right hip. Regulus. The link hurt more than usual. Maybe because maintaining the gigantic barrier and healing Regulus at the same time strained her power. Maybe because it was a worse wound. She panted, grimacing as she forced herself to straighten.
A barrage of green shards flew at her and she erected a barrier over herself and the guests escaping near her. Her magic drained as the barriers and Regulus’ wound pulled her power in three directions. Her grip on the larger barrier was slipping. Kirven turned back toward the dais.
“You’re wearing my crown, brother.” Kirven pointed the staff at the dais. A steady stream of green light pummeled into Adelaide’s barrier. She dropped the barrier over herself and fought past the retreating crowd, intent on keeping the barrier up. The king had to live. Father had to live.
“Kirven!” She broke through the last guests, glass crunching under her boots. “I’m ready to try again.”
