“Are you talking about the Truthbringers?” Cal asked in a hushed voice.
“No, I’m—wait, what did you say?”
“Truthbringers. No one talks about them here, and I’ve never seen them, but my friends told me about them. They’re allowed out of the palace whenever they want.” His voice turned sour at this complaint.
“What are Truthbringers, then?”
“They’re men in white robes who talk about how all magic is evil.” Cal leaned forward, glancing at the door of the servants’ dining room. “They’re petitioning to have you burned alive, because they think that’s the only way to keep your curse from latching onto someone else once you’re gone.”
“Lovely,” I said, taken aback.
“What were you going to tell me, anyway?”
I had to take a moment to digest Cal’s words. If people were demanding my death, not just to keep me off the throne, the situation here was worse than I had imagined. Maybe there was some truth in Olleack’s claim that my rule would destabilize Baylore.
“Oh,” I said at last, pushing these fears aside for now. “Have you heard that my inheritance will be put up to a vote?”
Cal nodded.
“Well, I’m afraid that if I lose and Leoth takes the throne instead—which will almost certainly happen if the city is allowed to vote on it, as I know he’s very popular—he will take steps to outlaw magic in Baylore completely. Beginning, most likely, with purging the palace of anyone with talent.”
“That’s horrible!” Cal said. “I thought we were safe here.”
“No. We’re all at risk, me more than anyone.” I gave him a serious look. “Now, I want you to promise you won’t say a word of this to your mother. She intends to vote against me, unless my mother can persuade her otherwise, and if she knows I spoke to you directly…”
“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Cal said, his shoulders straightening. “Mother doesn’t know the half of what I get up to.”
I hoped this did not involve sneaking out of the palace himself, though it was not my place to scold him if so.
“And how does your power work?” Cal whispered. “Everyone keeps talking about it, but no one knows for sure. They say you can kill someone just by being in the same room as them, and that you’re practically invincible.”
“I’m not invincible,” I said with a wry smile. “My power hardly benefits me at all. It’s far more of an inconvenience than a help. All I do is draw energy from those around me, so I have more stamina than most, but that’s about it. And yes, if someone lingers around me for too long—around two hours is when it becomes dangerous—they could die.”
Cal shifted a hair’s breadth away from me at that.
“But the main danger is if I’m asleep when someone else is around. After an hour in my presence, they drop off to sleep themselves, and unless one of us is taken away from the other before long, their body ceases functioning altogether. It’s hardly worth fleeing at the very sight of me.”
Cal shut his mouth abruptly, as though he had only just realized he was staring. “Have you killed anyone before?” He was still whispering.
“Just a nursemaid, when I was an infant. No one realized what I was until the woman was found dead in my chambers. Oh, and a few animals. Most of my victims are spiders and flies.” I did not want to mention the horse I had nearly ridden to death.
“How can they say you’re evil?” Cal asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked, giving him away. “You can’t blame an infant for anything.”
“My power is evil, therefore I must be.” I shrugged. “Most people are quick to make judgments rather than get to know those they fear. Now, I suggest we both leave before anyone sees us together.”
Cal nodded. “And I’ll vote for you, Princess Kalleah. As long as you promise not to ban Flamespinners!”
I laughed. “Why would I do such a thing? Your talent is incredible.”
Cal bowed and scurried away, but he was not quick enough to hide the red flush on his cheeks.
I pushed away my guilt at manipulating someone too young to know better. Cal would be a valuable ally. And if my interference drove a wedge between him and his mother…
Brushing off my skirts, I left behind the delicious aromas and lively chatter of the servants’ quarters.
One down, nineteen to go.
11
Polite Company
O n my way back to the Cheltish wing, I was so busy trying to evade notice that I almost missed seeing Leoth, who looked equally furtive. He strode down the hall ahead of me, removing a cloak as he went, and cast a glance over his shoulder before slipping up the stairs into our family wing. His eyes alit on me as he did, and his face twisted in disdain; I was too curious about what business he might have outside the palace to care.
I quickened my pace, hoping to catch him hiding something embarrassing or illicit, but I was too late. When I burst onto the Cheltish wing landing, he was nowhere to be seen.
Mother was seated on a plush chair in the common area, and she patted the seat beside her when she noticed me.
“Where have you been?” she asked sternly. “You ought not to leave our wing without a guard.”
“I know,” I said wearily. “Have you had any more luck?”
“No. Even my dearest friend is too worried about what her husband might do if she supports you that she won’t say a word.”
“Is he that cruel?”
“Frightened is a better way to put it,” Mother said sadly. “Fear can make us do terrible things. But enough of that—I’ve thought of another way for you to seek connections directly. The young women of Baylore Palace often congregate for tea or dancing lessons or whatever else it is that ladies get up to these days, and Lyla heard from the other ladies-in-waiting that these young women have more influence than they ought to in palace affairs.”
“Lyla is back?” I asked eagerly. It would be nice to see a friendly face around here for once.
“She arrived yesterday evening,” Mother said. “Did you not hear?”
I shook my head. I had been sequestered in my room, as usual.
“Well, you will see her at dinner tonight. She’s off in town at the moment replenishing her wardrobe. She told me the young women were attending a dancing lesson this afternoon, and you would be able to find them in the ballroom.”
* * *
Before seeking out these young women, I ventured downstairs under the pretense of looking for lunch, though I was really hoping to find Leoth. I was not disappointed—he sat in the dining room, his cloak draped over the chair beside him, eating a bowl of stew and discussing something in undertones with another young man.
“Ah, what a pleasant surprise,” Leoth said sarcastically. “I do so love having my life drained away while I enjoy a leisurely meal.”
I settled on the seat directly beside him, and was pleased to see his friend recoil. “Happy to help.” I gave him a cold smile and plucked a bread roll from the basket in front of Leoth.
“How is your campaign for the throne going?” Leoth asked. “Are you threatening everyone with death and dismemberment if they don’t support you?”
“That’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I have to deal with a particularly irritating young man.”
Leoth’s companion stood gracefully. “I ought to return to my studies. Father is counting on my help to plan the next round of city infrastructure improvements.”
“Shall we go for a ride tomorrow?” Leoth asked.
His friend grinned. “I always have time for a ride.”
As soon as we were alone, a smile spread across Leoth’s face. “You did that intentionally.”
“What?” I said, eyes wide with innocence.
As Leoth’s expression slowly returned to his usual disdain, I asked, “What were you doing earlier, sneaking around? Don’t you need a guard to accompany you whenever you leave the palace?”
“I could ask you the sa
me question,” Leoth said. “Thankfully, I am very popular in Baylore, so I don’t need to worry about getting murdered whenever I show my face. I would love to see you try the same.”
“Why they would support an arrogant pretender, I can’t say.”
Leoth laughed cruelly. “Even if it were a choice between you and a swine, they would choose the swine.”
“You won’t be laughing when I take the throne,” I said. “If you harm me now, I can make your life miserable once I am queen. In fact, I could exile you and your wretched parents to the far ends of the world.”
“Watch what threats you make, princess,” Leoth said darkly. “I could do the same when I take the throne. Besides, I have no intention of harming you. I’m sure there are plenty of others waiting for the opportune time to strike. No need to add my name to the list.” His face was twisted in anger, and I realized I would gain nothing further by goading him.
“Don’t you dare threaten me,” I said. Selecting another roll from the basket, I swept away from the table.
* * *
As I strode the wide corridors of the historic wing to reach the ballroom, this time flanked by two of our family’s guards, I reflected that approaching Leoth had been a terrible idea. Trading insults gained me nothing, and could give Leoth further weapons to use against me.
Was it true? Were people openly discussing assassination? I could imagine Olleack planning it, though he seemed confident enough I would lose the palace vote that I hoped he wouldn’t bother.
The sound of music drifting from the ballroom told me I was in the right place. It was a string instrument, but not one I had heard before—my experience with music was limited to shepherds’ pipes, flutes, fiddles, and drums.
Just as I poked my head around the corner, the music stopped, and voices rose to replace it. There were around ten young women, ranging in age from perhaps fifteen to thirty, clustered around a handsome man with tightly curled black hair framing his dark face. The musician sat apart, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, his instrument resting on his knees.
No one was looking my way, so I watched in silence as the girls practiced a dance to the same song once again. The young man must have been the dance instructor; he took turns pairing with the girls, while the others alternated taking the man’s and woman’s places. Mother had taught me a few dances, but I had found them dull, and had not given them proper attention. Now I wished I had been more studious.
When this dance drew to a close and the dance instructor began correcting his pupils in a deep, melodic voice, I stepped into the ballroom. I had planned to ask one of my guards to announce me, but the echoing clack of my heels on the marble floor was signal enough—everyone in the room turned to look at me, and the musician dropped his bow with a clatter.
“What is your business here?” the instructor asked coldly. A muscle in his jaw bulged.
“I’ve come to join your lesson. I believe the Harvest Ball and the Midwinter Ball are just a few short spans away, and I have never received proper training.”
“You’re not welcome here,” one of the younger girls said. She pulled a fan from her sleeve and fluttered it before her face as if trying to ward off my evil essence.
“Misha! You cannot say things like that,” another girl scolded. “As long as King Baltheor claims this is his daughter, she is protected under his authority.”
The instructor planted himself between me and his students, his back toward me. “Once again, now, and then we’ll add on the tricky bit after the crescendo.” His words were clipped, no longer melodic.
The girls paired off immediately, one of the oldest and prettiest taking her turn with the instructor.
As soon as the music started up again, the dance swept them away through the ballroom. Last time they had remained in a fairly close clump as they danced, but this time they dispersed so quickly a few of them stumbled—all were eager to put as much distance between themselves and me as possible.
When the music cut off once again, they reconvened a good fifteen paces away from me. Not wanting to antagonize them further, I remained where I stood, hands clasped before me, a fake smile etched on my face. My face is a mask, I reminded myself. It helped somewhat.
“That was very good,” the instructor said. “I think you’re ready to learn the next stage.”
“Excuse me,” one of the girls said. “I think I’ve twisted my ankle. I need to lie down.” She clutched another girl’s shoulder for balance.
“I can help you walk back to your rooms,” Misha said, draping the girl’s arm over her shoulder.
“Rest well,” the instructor said, giving Misha and her companion a shallow bow as they stumbled off.
With the help of the girl he had partnered with before, the instructor began demonstrating a set of new steps. I watched him closely, though I was unable to figure out the full moves given that his back was still to me.
They had hardly begun putting this new segment to music when another girl broke out coughing.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t feel well. I might return home to recover.”
“I’m feeling a bit hot as well,” the girl beside her said. “May I join you?”
The two swept off, the first still coughing. Still no one looked my way.
“May I try pairing with someone?” I asked. “I would like to try the steps myself.”
The musician froze with his bow on the strings, looking from the instructor to me and back.
“Unfortunately we have an odd number of people now that you have joined us.” The instructor did not turn to face me. “If you bring your own dance partner to our next session, you will be able to practice with him or her.”
They had hardly made it to the end of the tricky section, mostly walking through the steps one by one without music, when another two girls excused themselves, one to attend to “private business,” the other to make an urgent appointment with her hairdresser.
“Well, there is hardly any reason to continue with most of our number gone,” the instructor said. The shoulders of two of the remaining three girls sagged in relief. “Thank you for your service.” He dipped his head to the musician, who played a final soft melody before packing away his instrument.
Linking arms with the girl he had paired with through most of the lessons, who looked triumphant to have won so much attention from him, the instructor strode from the ballroom. Another one of the girls hurried behind the pair, skirts bouncing.
The final girl gave me a nervous smile, revealing large, crooked front teeth. Her hair was yellow-brown and her skin light, which set her out from most of the royal families. I suspected she was from the Dellgrain family line.
“I-I’m sorry about—” she stammered.
“No need to apologize,” I said, returning her smile. “I’m accustomed to this sort of reaction.”
“I can help you learn the dance sometime,” she said hurriedly. “I know what it’s like to—” She flushed purple.
“That’s very kind of you. What is your name?”
“Darya, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Darya. You are most kind.” She looked eager to escape, so I did not press her to teach me now. “Just send for me when you are ready.”
Darya curtseyed and then fled.
The musician was studiously ignoring me, so I did not bid him farewell. As soon as I left the ballroom, my two guards fell in behind me without a word. This time their presence was comforting rather than oppressive.
Perhaps that had not been a complete waste, after all. I might have won myself a second ally.
* * *
The king joined me, Mother, and Lyla for dinner that night, for the first time since our return to Baylore. The other families in our household had staggered their mealtimes to avoid being in our presence, so the Reycoran dining hall felt very empty with just four of us clustered at the end of the enormous table that seated forty. The king did not seem pleased to have Lyla joining us, but I was delig
hted—she was one of just two people in the entire city who genuinely cared for me, and it was comforting to be surrounded by allies.
“How was the dance lesson?” Mother asked. “Which dance were you practicing?”
“It was a complete failure,” I said. “I have no idea what the dance was called, because no one spoke to me or taught me a single step. Just as I expected.” I tried to keep my tone light, but a note of bitterness crept in.
“Were they rude or impolite to you?” Mother asked. “We can force them to treat you fairly if we must.”
I shook my head. “They were above reproach. They knew what might happen if they offended me.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes, the king frowning at his plate as though he suspected something was poisoned.
Eventually he set aside his fork. “I did not come here to discuss dance lessons, much as I enjoy spending time with my family,” he said heavily. “I have ill news. There has been an uprising in Larkhaven, and the governor needs my authority to keep this from getting out of hand. I must travel to Larkhaven myself, on the morrow. You will step into my place while I am away, Ammeline.”
Mother’s hand shook as she laid her knife on her plate; the silver clattered against the ceramic dish. “You cannot abandon us. Without your authority, we are in grave danger.”
“I would not leave if it were not of the utmost importance,” the king said. “But the man who has led the uprising is calling to separate Larkhaven and the rest of the coast from Itrea, which would lead to our ruin. Without a port for trade, we would be destitute.”
“Why would he wish for that?” Mother asked, still stiff-backed in shock. “What does Larkhaven stand to gain from it?”
“There are many who fear the direction Baylore has taken in recent years,” the king said. “They say we will revert to the bigotry and persecution we escaped centuries ago. He isn’t wrong, not precisely, but separating Larkhaven from Itrea is not the answer. This could spell the end of centuries of peace. I must stop this unrest before it tears Itrea apart from within.”
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