The song ended, but as James and I returned to our wine and settled into conversation, another tall figure approached.
“James. Lady Julianna.”
James flashed a pale smile and turned a fraction to include the newcomer. “Your Highness.”
I curtsied and murmured a greeting.
Prince Tobiah stood beside his bodyguard. The two were of similar height, both with lanky frames and hidden strength. But James stood with a fierceness the prince didn’t possess; he stood like someone ready for an attack at any moment.
“I was hoping I might beg a dance from Lady Julianna.” He offered his hand, palm up and fingers extended. The wool jacket he wore must have been stifling, but if he was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it; his expression remained somber. Bored.
James’s eyebrows arched up, but he stepped aside.
“I’d be honored, Your Highness.” I smiled at James once more before placing my hand in Tobiah’s.
A memory welled up, like blood from a thin cut, of standing on a ledge and watching my city burn. My hand in Tobiah’s.
Tobiah Pierce and me: this was why the Indigo Kingdom had won the One-Night War.
SEVEN
I SWALLOWED HARD and reminded myself where I was and when—and who I was pretending to be.
“Watch out,” James called as the opening chords played. “She’s a terrible dancer.”
I forced a chuckle and fell into step with the prince, in time with the tempo. “Your cousin is quite the gossip.” When his expression didn’t change, I urged lightness into my voice. No matter how I felt about him, I needed him to like me—Julianna. “He was just telling me about the time you chewed with your mouth open. I admit, I am horrified.”
“And I am horrified that a lady of your rank cannot dance.” Hints of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Unless James is simply spreading his disgusting lies again. Did he tell you I’m a poor swordsman? Because it isn’t true. He’s jealous, that’s all.”
“I have no idea what to believe at this point.” I let my smile fade and lowered my eyes. This was almost too easy. “Your Highness, I want to thank you again for your hospitality.”
“It’s nothing.” His tone fell bored again. “Were our situations reversed, I know your family would have taken me in as well.”
My family—birth and Ospreys alike—would have been clever enough to spot a spy, but I nodded. “I understand the Indigo Kingdom has been making efforts to mitigate the wraith’s effects.”
“It has. As part of the Wraith Alliance, we have Liadia’s research and construction plans for the barrier, as well as several other kingdoms’ work. Obviously, they’ve not been successful, but they have been educational. We’re confident that something will prove useful.”
Did he believe that? I couldn’t tell.
“Your Highness.” I pressed my lips together, glanced up, and met his eyes as we took slow, steady steps around each other. “I’d like to help. The wraith destroyed my home. I don’t want to see it destroy another.”
“That is incredibly brave of you.”
“I want to see the wraith stopped. I need to help.” The idea of spending more time with Tobiah and the Indigo Order made me need to vomit, actually, but this might be the fastest way to learn whether the Indigo Kingdom was drafting men from Aecor to fight in the wraithland.
And when I took back Aecor, I’d need to know if there was a way to protect my kingdom from the wraith, too.
Tobiah bowed his head. “I’ll see what I can do. Though do keep in mind we all hope you will be able to rest and recover from your journey. I’m sure you’re eager to see this stopped, but your health comes first.”
I made my voice raspy. “At least until the wraith arrives.”
“It won’t happen tomorrow.” He said it like a prince, like someone who’d never known uncertainty. Like he could command tomorrow to be wraith-free.
He’d never known the horror of seeing his people shoved into a courtyard to witness the execution of his blindfolded king and queen. His parents.
He’d never known the fear of the orphanage, with bigger children who stole food and bedding, and beat the younger ones for fun. And minders who didn’t care.
He’d never known hunger in a winter-frozen castle, trapped with other starving children.
The dance ended, and everyone applauded the musicians. I clapped as well, but my thoughts were far away.
“Are you well?” Tobiah studied my face. “You’ve gone pale.”
“It’s warm in here. I’d like to sit, if you don’t mind.”
There were chairs placed all around the ballroom, many with occupants already, but Tobiah led me to a seat under the orchestra’s balcony and helped me settle.
“May I get anything for you?”
Information. Lists. My kingdom.
“No, thank you. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.” Tobiah took the seat next to me and though his tone was all compassion, his posture announced otherwise: he leaned slightly away from me, rather than toward, and his hands rested too stiffly on his knees. He couldn’t wait to get away. “Perhaps it’s too early for you to be out yet. You just arrived, after all.”
I tilted my shoulders toward him, clasped my hands together in earnestness, and repeated the same excuse I’d given James: I refused to be the sad duchess doomed to friendlessness. “I desperately want to know more about the Indigo Kingdom and its people. This is my new home.”
He waited.
“For example”—a cresting-wave sigil caught my eye—“the Houses. I’ve seen them on flags and carriages, and anything else that can be labeled. What do they mean?”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, upsetting the slight curls. “They represent birthplace. Those born in the Indigo Mountains or Valley claim House of the Dragon.”
“You’re Dragon.”
He nodded. “And my mother claims Sun, as she was born northeast of here. Chey is House of the Sea, from directly east. House of the Unicorn is to the southeast. My fiancée is House of the Unicorn.” He rested his elbows on his knees and linked his hands together. “It has little to do with family and more to do with the location of one’s birth, similar to the belief in Liadia that the month of one’s birth influences personality. There are stories about those four regions, and how the Houses influence people born under them, but it’s not commonly discussed anymore. It’s more tradition than anything.”
“Oh, my apologies, then. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I don’t mind. Most people view the stories as too magical, though.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, like waiting to see whether I’d break down again. I held my spine straight and my chin firm. “With magic being the source of the wraith, anything related to magic—even legend—is taboo.”
Lady Julianna would be supportive of this. “I understand.” But still inquisitive, perhaps. I dropped my voice. “The Indigo Kingdom has a complete ban on magic?”
He nodded. “To assist in our efforts to stop the wraith.”
“And the people comply?”
Tobiah turned his head, studying me. “Most. They’ve had a hundred years to get used to the ban.”
“But not everyone.”
“Not everyone.” He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “There are some who persist. The Indigo Order finds them.”
“Or Black Knife does.”
He cocked his head. “Has he made a name for himself even in Liadia?”
I bit back a laugh. “No, but I hadn’t even stepped foot in Skyvale before I heard tales. Refugee children pretend to be him.”
“So do some of the nobility.” Tobiah jerked his chin toward a tall, handsome man dancing with three ladies at once. “Notoriety means never being lonely at night.”
I twisted my face into a conspiratorial smile. “It seems to me that kind of notoriety might mean never having time for that sort of company.”
Tobiah chuckled. “As long as it keeps Lord Daniel
out of worse trouble.”
After a quiet moment, I said, “I was curious. . . .”
Tension wound up in the prince’s shoulders. When had it left?
“What happens to them? The flashers arrested by the Indigo Order and Black Knife?”
“They don’t use magic anymore.” Tobiah shrugged as though he truly did not care. “That’s what matters.” He pushed himself up and gave a slight bow. “If you’re recovered, my lady, I’d better excuse myself and dance with my fiancée.”
“Of course. Congratulations on your engagement, Your Highness.”
The sullen expression broke for a minuscule smile. Then he turned, bumped into someone, apologized, and made his way through the ballroom.
Alone under the balcony, I studied the dancers as the next song began. Lady Julianna might have been a fool to come out tonight, but it had been a wise move for me. James and Tobiah were wealthy with information. I just had to ask the right questions.
From across the dance floor, Melanie caught my eye, a silent query in her lifted brow. I cast a faint nod and smile, and went back to my observations. Learning dance steps. Who spoke with whom. Who seemed to be the most important members of society. The king and queen were present, though halfway through, Terrell doubled over with a coughing fit, and both Tobiah’s mother and father left early.
A few men here and there asked me to dance. I accepted, gleaning bits of information from them as well, and at last the orchestra played the final song.
Together, Melanie and I stepped outside, pausing to admire the glittering night as carriages pulled up and out of the drive. Couples and families left in groups, laughing or yawning or gazing suggestively at each other.
Before I could start toward our carriage, though, Prince Tobiah stepped in. “My ladies. I’d be honored if you rode back to the palace with me.”
I caught James’s smirk behind Tobiah as I accepted. Soon, we were tucked inside a large carriage with heated stones placed beneath the benches, and heavy wool shawls over our shoulders. A lantern provided a feeble illumination over the blue-and-gold interior, but cast more shadows. The prince and his bodyguard sat across from us, loosening their collars and buttons as the carriage lurched into motion and the candlelight jumped.
“The duchess is returning home with her family,” James explained when he caught me eyeing the prince’s fiancée as she glided by outside with a pair of adults. Her parents, presumably.
“Ah.” No suggestive gazing for them. Well, few in this world had the luxury of marrying for love.
“I hope your first full day in Skyvale was satisfying.” Tobiah steadied the lantern, and light struck the angles of his face. “I can’t promise every day will be as exciting, but there do tend to be many parties in autumn.”
“The company was enjoyable.” When I smiled pointedly, both boys offered polite thank-yous. “As for less exciting days, I’m very interested in learning more about the Indigo Kingdom.”
“Anything in particular?” Tobiah lifted an eyebrow.
“Its history.”
“That’s not a light subject.” Tobiah gripped the bench to brace himself as the carriage jostled. “Why history?”
“My father maintained that the history of a kingdom contains clues to the kingdom’s future.” At the prince’s nod, I continued. “He said people tend to fall into patterns, even over hundreds of years. They make the same mistakes as their ancestors. The only way we can avoid that fate is to learn from what’s come before.”
“That is an interesting philosophy,” said the prince. “I can’t say I disagree with it.”
“Besides, the Indigo Kingdom is my home now.” The words sat sour on my tongue. The Indigo Kingdom could never be home. “I want to know everything about it. As much as those who were born here.”
James, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, leaned forward. “You strike me as an incredibly clever young woman. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll have trouble catching up.”
“Indeed.” Tobiah smiled. “Whatever you require for your studies will be provided.”
Later, alone in our rooms, I turned to Melanie. “The Indigo Kingdom is so kind to us. Whatever we require for our reclaiming of Aecor will be provided.”
She laughed and began unpinning my hair. “Did you get anywhere with the prince or his bodyguard?”
“Tobiah promised to get me into his wraith mitigation talks sometime, and James is a river of gossip.”
“Not a good trait for a bodyguard.”
“But good for us.” I recounted the conversations and when my hair hung loose, I turned to help with hers. “What about you? Anything?”
“I made friends out of a few ladies-in-waiting. I’ll use them for information on people we’re up against. They were horrified that we’d been seated with the military guests, so we have potential allies against Chey if we need them.”
“I get the impression Chey doesn’t like us, and I’m not sure why. We should be careful with her.”
“Meredith is friendly, though.” Melanie shrugged. “She invited us to her engagement ball.”
True, but she hadn’t spoken with us tonight. That was a little strange.
The clock tower chimed as we ran through the people we’d met, who might be useful, who could be ignored for now, and how we’d behave around all of them. We were refugee nobility, after all; we could get away with quite a range of behavior, if we played our characters right.
And we were nothing if not good at being exactly what others expected us to be.
EIGHT
THE NEXT SEVERAL days blurred. Dress fittings, introductions to other palace residents, and a dizzying number of formal dinners, though none as grand as the first. The king was paying for all of it, though, so I didn’t complain.
One evening, we returned to our quarters and found a stack of large paper and bottles of colored inks resting on the sitting room table.
“Perfect.” Melanie circled the supplies, giving them a predatory smile as she dragged her fingers along the edge of the table. “This is even more than we need for the map.”
“Which is good.” I locked the door and took inventory. Large sheets of white, fine-grained paper. Richly colored inks. I’d be hard-pressed to steal something better. “Really good, considering we’ll have to show off all the drawings we promised.”
Melanie grinned as she lifted the lid of a hand-carved box; it smelled of rosewood. “Pens. Dozens of nibs. They really are trying to make us feel at home.” She removed an ebony-handled pen and turned it in her hands. “What else do you think we could request? The king’s head on a pike?”
“Hmm.” I gave an exaggerated tap on my chin. “How does one word that kind of request?”
“With liberal repetition of the word please, I expect.” Melanie shut the box. “I’m ready to begin transferring the map right now, if you are.”
I glanced at the mantel clock, hands drawing toward twenty-two. At the window, darkness peeked around the edges of the curtain. “This late?”
“You’re imagining we’ll have a convenient time tomorrow?” She shook her head. “Between dress fittings, social meals, and our gossip-collecting efforts, we’re scheduled every moment. We have four tasks. The faster we get through them—including this one—the faster we can return to the old palace.”
I cast a quick, longing gaze toward my bedroom before I sat at the table. She was right. There was no better time than now.
Melanie fished the draft of our map from its hiding place behind a bookcase, and we got to work.
An hour later, everything was transferred to the larger paper, though we were still missing portions in the royal wing and details about who lived where. We’d get more over time, but for now . . .
“It’s almost a respectable map.” Melanie folded the smaller papers in with our collection of reports for Patrick, and a letter from me to Connor. “Think he’ll appreciate having the draft?”
I rolled my eyes. “It won’t be enough to please
him.”
“Perhaps it will placate him for now.”
As I finished cleaning the pens, I mimicked his favorite disapproving tone. “You’re not working fast enough.”
Melanie deepened her voice into his, too. “We should have had the entire palace infiltrated with Ospreys by now.”
I couldn’t cage my laugh. “Yes, all twelve of us against thousands of them.”
“Nine. Quinn took Ronald and Ezra to raid that supply caravan.”
“Oh right.” Worry settled in my stomach again. “Nine.”
“Wil.” She leaned forward. “You know I only voted with Patrick because I do think they’re ready for that job.”
“Sure.” A shiver passed through me. Why had Patrick sent Ezra on such a dangerous mission? “I disagree, but I understand.”
“I know.” Melanie pushed herself to her feet. “Unless you need help with your hair and dress, Lady Julianna, I’m going to change and get these documents to the drop.”
“You just took a scheduled report last night.” Again, she’d stayed out later than necessary and denied it in the morning.
“Last night we didn’t have the spare map.”
“Very well.”
She beamed and pranced toward her bedroom.
I slipped the new map-in-progress in between other sheets of paper to hide it, then hurried into my bedroom and shut the door. I pulled the pins from my hair, letting the brown strands tumble down over my shoulders. A quick braid later, I was shimmying into a dark shirt and trousers when Melanie called from the other room.
“I’m going.” Her voice was high, almost giddy.
The sitting room balcony door clicked open and closed as I grabbed my dagger and waited by the door in my room. With the curtain nudged aside, I could just make out Melanie’s form moving across the courtyard, guards none the wiser.
Well. This should be fun.
I tucked my braid under a black cap and followed her.
The night was cool and breezy, with a pale odor of wraith on the air. After a quick survey of the nearby balconies—no one was out tonight—I grabbed the rail and swung myself over, one side pressed against the palace wall. My legs dangled, boot-clad toes scrabbling for purchase. I found a ledge and readjusted my weight, then wedged my grappling hook around the balcony rail. Cautiously, I climbed three stories down to the gentle sloping roof below.