I MISSED MELANIE more than ever.
Meredith was not my best friend, not even close. After we talked a few minutes, smiling at each other in plain view of the guests, she went off to visit with Lady Chey and Lady Margot.
I wandered the fringes, spotting Kevin trailing after his tutor like he was trying to work up the courage to speak with her. He was too slow, though; Alana accepted another man’s offer to dance. Meanwhile, Theresa flirted with a young man from the Indigo Order. Karl and Connor were drooping, having eaten half the buffet table by themselves; I sent them to their quarters to sleep it off.
I spotted Tobiah and James not quite concealed by a hanging banner, and made my way toward them. “This isn’t the time.” The king’s voice was low. Anxious.
“Then when? I realize it’s not a priority, but I want to investigate what happened.” James’s hand breezed over his stomach.
“I’m not sure.” Tobiah drew him toward the public again. “After all of this is done with . . .”
“Dance, Your Highness?” Prince Colin stood directly behind me. The swelling music did nothing to conceal the dislike in his voice.
I spun to find him wearing his typical sneer. He held out a hand, mocking me.
If I declined, what would he do? What kind of show would he make? I was trying to give the impression I was cooperating with the Indigo Kingdom. But if I accepted and later it came out that he’d been in my room the other night, what would people assume?
Did it even matter? What would Melanie suggest?
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. “I’m willing to give you Aecor.”
I didn’t move. “You’re lying.”
“Very well. I’ll just stand here and let everyone see you snub me.”
“I’m sure no one will blame me.” I started to turn away, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
“It’s a good offer, Your Highness.”
I pitched my voice low and dangerous. “If you do not remove your hand from me, I will remove it from you.”
A smile sliced across his face. “Wouldn’t that bring talk?”
People around us were beginning to notice our exchange. A few lifted eyebrows. Kevin paused his pursuit of Alana Todd.
“Dance with me, Your Highness, or I promise you will never retake your kingdom.”
My stomach turned over, but everyone was watching now. I caught James take a step forward, and Tobiah motion him back.
“Very well.” Because I wouldn’t let them see me weak. “One dance. Make your proposal quick. And do not touch me again.”
Prince Colin pulled away and bowed, and on the dance floor, he placed his hands behind his back.
I buried my fists in my skirts and tried to ignore the stares of surrounding nobility. “Well? You have until the end of this dance.” The waltz was halfway through, thank saints. And while it was awkward, uncomfortable even, to dance with our hands down, I would not let him get closer than a low speaking voice would carry.
“You want Aecor Territory returned.”
“You know I do.”
“And I would be happy to return it to you—in exchange for a piece of information.”
The room suddenly seemed too cold, but I kept my tone mild. “I doubt I’ll be able to help you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can. It has to do with my nephew and his miraculous recovery. I’m so pleased, you understand. I was afraid I might lose a nephew in addition to a brother, but by Terrell’s memorial, he seemed quite well.”
“We’re all fortunate His Majesty’s injuries were not as dire as announced. Unfortunately we weren’t able to flush out Patrick Lien, but he’s no longer in the city, and no longer a threat to King Tobiah’s life.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Your Highness. My people in Aecor Territory inform me that Lien is not heading for the locations presumed by Captain Rayner’s, ah, intelligence.”
The list of resistance groups Melanie had left flitted through my mind. Had she been wrong? Had Patrick caught her? Or . . . No, I couldn’t believe she would play both sides. Not after everything we’d been through.
Prince Colin could be lying.
“Lien remains a threat,” said Prince Colin. “And I think we both know what he wants. What you want, too.”
To declare myself queen.
“I’m willing to give you that opportunity. Save your kingdom the war. Save the Indigo Kingdom from fighting both the wraith and your people.”
Loathing surged through me. This was a man with no shame, and no sympathy for the people in either kingdom. Not for the soldiers who’d be fighting the war, and certainly not for the civilians who’d be caught in the middle. “If you’re so concerned, why angle for an exchange? Why not just acknowledge my birthright?”
“It’s never wise to give away something valuable.” He glanced toward Tobiah and Francesca. “Not without certainty of receiving something more valuable in return.”
“And that would be?”
“My prize is none of your concern.” He stopped moving as the music ended. “I suppose we’re out of time.”
“What exactly do you want to know?” My heart pounded as we stepped off the dance floor. The hum of conversation kept us from being overheard, but still I caught questions in the eyes of my friends.
“My man saw you the morning after the shooting. He said you nearly killed him.” Prince Colin smiled again. “He saw my nephew standing when, hours before, I’d seen a hole in my nephew’s stomach. I want to know what happened.”
“Nothing happened.” Lying, at least, had always come easy. I gave away nothing.
“I know you have no love for my nephew, Princess. It’s such a small thing to trade for your kingdom.”
Meaning if I told him what Connor had done, he’d use the information to malign Tobiah and take the Indigo Kingdom—a much better prize than Aecor, at least until the wraith arrived.
But if I didn’t, he’d believe it confirmation of what he hinted to Meredith earlier.
Meredith, who hadn’t budged when he’d approached her. She was stronger than I’d realized.
When Prince Colin saw us together tonight, having gotten nothing out of her earlier, he’d decided to change tactics with his other target: offer me the thing I wanted most, rather than try to frighten me from it.
“What you saw the night of the shooting was your nephew feigning sleep, and covered with cosmetics,” I said. “It was an illusion meant to fool everyone. We hoped news of his condition would put Patrick at ease, making him easier to capture.”
The music began for another dance, and couples moved toward the floor again.
“I see.” Prince Colin smoothed the sleeves of his jacket. “That’s not what I was expecting to hear, but if you decide to change your answer, the offer stands until”—he seemed to think—“winter solstice eve.”
The day before Tobiah and Meredith got married.
“Good evening, Your Highness.” With that, he slithered off to harass someone else.
Manners dictated I stay until the twenty-third hour, so I dodged questioning glances and spent time with the buffet, which would never be the same after Carl and Connor. But as soon as the clock struck, I found Tobiah—who was speaking with his mother, Meredith, and her parents—and offered my congratulations before I left. And because he was already engaged in conversation, he could not pursue me.
Sergeant Ferris, of course, strode only two paces behind me. “Your Highness, it’s not my place to ask—”
“Then don’t ask.”
He was silent the rest of the way to my door, and there he bade me good night.
It was there, on the interior side of my door, that I found a black envelope pinned to the wood. It was thick with paper: a long reply to my last note to him.
A bubble of laughter formed in my chest as I freed the letter and found a chair by a light.
Wilhelmina,
James is always telling secrets about me, isn’t he? Though some truly are lies. You’ve seen me fight with a sword. And have you ever seen me chew with my mouth open? No, not once. What a horrible gossip James is. Why are we friends? I’ll have to begin searching for a new best friend. If you’re interested in applying for the position, I’ll need your referrals and a testimony of your honesty—
Never mind. You would simply forge yours, if indeed you could even be bothered to apply. I suppose I will have to continue as I have been, suffering James’s company.
In spite of his history of scandalous lies, he was correct about my interest in magic.
Until I met you—in Skyvale, not as children—my stance was unwavering, as you know. But my stance did not diminish my interest in the subject, though I was forced to hide my fascination with such an unsavory topic.
Once, the world existed on magic. Factories employed appropriately skilled radiants to produce clothes or furniture or building supplies. Farms hired them to plant crops or encourage growth, and then assist with the harvest and distribution. Shops kept employees who could spot the dishonest to prevent thievery. It seems to me that relatively not long ago—for history is long—radiants were coveted people and those who didn’t possess magic were mere second class. What a sight it must have been two hundred years ago, when radiants built Skyvale Palace and shaped the foundations of the city with just waves of their hands. The legacy of magic is feats we may never again accomplish without its aid.
Plumbing and lighting originally installed in the palace and mansions all over the Indigo Kingdom have been made useful once again, with new technology that doesn’t require magic. That is an impressive feat of its own, and one I don’t want to diminish, but how can it compare to what once was?
Even further, while those major magical accomplishments are certainly something to admire—under the light of the past, rather than today’s nonmagical standards—I am even more impressed when I imagine the smaller ways the lives of our ancestors were affected by magic. Imagine: pens that didn’t need to be re-inked, paper that absorbed the likeness of a person as though a master artist had painted their portrait, lights that illuminated the moment someone walked into a room. Imagine a blade that never dulled, a mask that never slipped, or a device that distorted one’s voice just enough to disguise it without making it sound unnatural.
That world of magic and convenience is fascinating to me.
Perhaps I was born in the wrong time. Two hundred years ago, my interests would not have been so forbidden. Indeed, I would have been able to study openly, without embarrassment. I’m not embarrassed that you know—I’m glad James told you—but I wish I’d been able to tell you myself.
I wonder what you would have used your magic for if you’d lived two hundred years ago, too. In those days, Aecor and the Indigo Kingdom were on much more friendly terms, so no doubt we would have grown up as companions.
With deep affection,
Tobiah
I moved to my desk to write back, taking my time as I selected smooth paper and glossy ink. My choice for nib was easier: I took a pointy, flexible nib that would give me wide swells on the downstrokes, and fine hairlines on the upstrokes.
James had tasked me with continuing my search for my own handwriting, and I intended to practice until I was satisfied. Writing calmed me, and by the time the maid arrived to help me out of my gown—and tut over the ink smears on my fingers—I felt almost at ease.
When the maid left, I changed into my Black Knife clothes and went out the window, over the roof, and onto Tobiah’s balcony.
The lock was easy enough to pick again, and I slipped inside the dark room without resistance, pausing only a moment to let my eyes adjust. The shapes and shadows were the same as the last time I’d been here, except now there was a framed drawing of Black Knife on one wall. How scandalous.
I slipped my letter in the corner of the frame just as the dressing room door opened. A banner of light shone over the far wall as I ducked into the shadow of a bookcase. The gas lamps flickered on, dazzling me.
“Well,” said Tobiah, “you’re later than I expected.”
I leaned on the wall and let my head drop back. “Someone couldn’t just get crowned king and be done with it. I had to stay for almost the whole party after.”
He laughed as he stepped around the bookcase, clad in a loose shirt and trousers. Black, predictably.
“Dressed for bed already?” I lifted my hand to my sword hilt. “I thought you might want to get some air.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I was crowned king today and held a party that went on too long. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“Being king has changed you. You never want to have fun anymore.” With a fake pout, I slipped around him and unhooked my baldric. “But I suppose I can see why you might need to rest after dealing with all those people.”
“Speaking of all those people, what did my uncle say?”
I stopped short of laying the baldric and sheathed sword on his desk. “Nothing interesting.” My things dropped to the desk with a heavy thunk.
“Unfortunately, my uncle is rarely uninteresting.”
I shrugged and made sure my mask was on straight. “He made a request, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided what to do about it.”
“And?”
“I’m going to do the worst thing one can to a man like him: ignore him. Show him that he’s nothing.” Even if I thought he’d actually release Aecor to me, betrayal was yet another method I wouldn’t use to take it back. I needed to do it honestly. “What about you? I heard a tense discussion with James. Are you all right?”
“Eavesdropping is rude.”
“And yet it’s a way of life for some of us.”
He gave an exasperated smile. “James wants to know how he healed. I’m looking into it, but mostly I’m grateful he’s still with us. Losing him would break me.”
“I feel the same about Melanie.” I shifted my weight toward him and put on my best mock-serious tone. “Did you know snake-lizard venom eats the edges of swords?”
“Wil!” He threw his hands in the air. “Consider that my final gift to you. You haven’t even had it a week and you’ve already ruined it.”
“You must have a low opinion of me, Your Majesty. I took very good care of the gown.”
“The gown?”
“Silver, with ospreys clutching swords embroidered across the bodice. They looked just like these boots, so I know you’re responsible for it.” I propped my foot up on the edge of the desk chair. Black ospreys soared around my calf, just below my knee. “Tell me, Your Highness, do you embroider?”
“Ah, that gown.” His smile faltered and memory fogged across his eyes. “The one you wore to my father’s . . .”
My breath hitched. His father’s birthday ball, when he’d argued with King Terrell about marrying Meredith, and later we’d kissed in the breezeway, maybe at the same moment Patrick was sneaking into the king’s sleeping chambers.
Tobiah slumped toward the edge of his bed and sat. His fingers clutched vaguely at his heart, as though he could rip out the pain. But it wouldn’t go away. Not ever.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring that up.” I was thoughtless.
He lifted his eyes to me. “No, it’s part of my life now.” Understandably, he’d think of his father now, when only hours ago he’d taken his father’s place. “I didn’t accept your help after the Inundation. It was foolish. I’d like to accept your help now, if you’re still offering,” he said.
“Of course.” Haltingly, I crossed the room and stood before him. “Of course I’m still offering.”
He reached for me, arms lifted up like hope, and suddenly we were holding each other so tight. His fingertips dug into my shoulder blades. I hated myself for ever thinking he was spoiled, having ten extra years with his father. It hurt fiercely, no matter when it happened, and there was no pain compared to that of seeing one’s father die, or finding his body.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his hair. Neither of us could have prevented our parents’ murders, but the pain and what-if were undeniable.
I’d been a child when it happened. Innocent. Terrified. Forever changed because of what I’d seen.
He was older. Less innocent, but still terrified, because he was expected to be a king now.
Get married. Win a war. Stop the wraith from destroying everything.
He spent so much time being everything for everyone else: a son, a prince, a hero.
“I should have protected him,” he whispered, drawing back. He looked so devastated. “I should have spent more time with him and been there when Patrick came. I thought the city needed me, but it was my family I’d neglected all along.”
“You were doing something good. Your father would have been proud if he’d known.” I bit my lip and met his eyes. “I didn’t get to know him well.”
“I know.”
“During the breakfast I shared with him, he only wanted to talk about you. His regrets. But I think he would have been proud that you’d taken the initiative to venture into the city, how you fought to help your people in a way most kings or princes would never dream. The night of his birthday ball, he said he hadn’t put his family first. It was always his kingdom that got his attention. That might be the price of ruling. That was a lesson you learned from him, and one you put into action when you put on your mask. So yes, I think he’d be proud of you for becoming the king he’d trained you to be.”
“Yet I still disappointed him. The last words we exchanged were in anger.”
I touched his face, my gloves ink against the parchment of his skin. “That would never stop him from loving you. You’re his son.”
He tilted his face so the curve of his cheek fit in the cup of my palm. His hair tangled around the tips of my fingers and his breath warmed a sliver of skin showing between my glove and sleeve. “You are a mystery, Wilhelmina. You won’t accept anything that even resembles assistance or comfort, but you offer both so freely.”
The mask hid my tired smile.
Cautiously, like I might run, he leaned forward and kissed me. Silk clung between our lips for a heartbeat, and he pulled back to search my eyes. Only the mask prevented more, and his expression was a question of hope and yearning.
My heart thundered as I shifted toward him, chin tilted upward.
His fingers slid beneath the mask, cool against my throat. Slowly, the silk slipped up and off my mouth and nose and eyes, then dropped to the bed as Tobiah moved close. There was a long, hesitating moment with fire surging through me. All the places we touched were bright and sharp and sensitive. More than anything, I wanted this part to linger—this aching and wanting, with his fingertips glancing off my jaw, when anything was possible. We might still make the right choice.
But what was one more mistake?
A soft groan escaped as I pushed toward him, and he pulled me in, and then I sat astride his lap, kissing him. Our mouths, touching. Our breaths, gasping. Our hands, grasping. The silk of his shirt slid across his skin where I caressed. His shoulders and arms were strong and toned, and the muscles flexed when he pulled the tie off the end of my braid and combed his fingers through my hair. His palm pressed flat against my spine and lit fires at the small of my back. His free hand rested on my hip, holding me in place.
He whispered my name between kisses, moving from my lips to my cheeks to my jaw to my throat. He made me feel alive.
This felt right. It felt like being back in the breezeway with the night around us, and our bodies pressed close together. When I’d explored his face with my fingers, not knowing his true identity. I’d never wanted someone like that. Loved someone like that.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, pieces of me at a time. My arms from around his shoulders. My chest from his chest. My legs from his lap.
“Wilhelmina.” His eyes were still closed. Time stretched like distance between us, and finally he looked at me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s my fault, too.” My eyes cut to the balcony where I should have gone as soon as he’d declined to go out tonight. “And I’m sorry.”
He pushed up from his bed and took my mask. “I wish we didn’t have to say that.” He ran the mask between his fingers for a moment, expression unreadable when he looked at it. Then he handed it to me and nodded toward the frame. “Thank you for the letter.”
A strange sort of tension formed between us, palpable and ugly. Once, we’d known each other as enemies, and now I could still feel the shape of him in my arms. Now we were our own enemies. “I’d better go.”
On the balcony, wind picked at my loose hair, but I pulled on my mask and turned my eyes to the diamond-dark sky, listening for the cadence of patrol footfalls and voices.
Through the chilly night, I ran as far and fast from Tobiah as I could.