“I think it’s brilliant!” Hestia says. “Jewels of the Queen’s Garden is a wonderful theme! The ballroom will look splendid once you’re done with it.”
“All the ladies can dress to look like different blossoms,” Rhoda adds. “Oh, we better commission our seamstresses quickly before they’re all booked!”
“You’re at an advantage,” I assure them, “since I have yet to send out invitations. Epaphras! I will need stationery and penmanship samples, of course. The invitations must go out by this weekend.”
“Naturally,” Epaphras bites out.
“Best inform Kallias I am in far greater need of your services than he is. I shall need you for at least the next week, I should think.”
The scribe goes pale, and I share a secret smile with Rhoda.
“Galen,” Rhoda says to the shadow behind her. “Do contact my seamstress and set up an appointment. Make sure she knows it’s urgent.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Epaphras stomps off, muttering something about his skills being wasted, as he exits the ballroom.
As soon as he’s gone, Hestia fairly leaps upon me. “At last we’re alone! Now tell me quickly, is it true?”
“If I’m to answer, I need to first know the question, Hestia,” I reply, though she no doubt wishes to discuss the attempt on the king’s life.
“My lady’s maid heard it from her sister, who works as a laundress, who heard it from a gardener, who heard it from—”
“Dearest,” Rhoda interrupts, “I don’t think we need to know the precise line the news traveled.”
“Right.” Hestia turns to me. “Are you staying in the queen’s rooms?”
I blink. Oh. Then I offer her a sincere smile. “Yes.”
Hestia groans with jealousy. “You are the most fortunate girl in all of the six kingdoms. What are they like?”
“Last night, I bathed in a tub large enough for three to fit comfortably. The walls are lined with oils and fragrances. I put fresh rose petals and lavender oils in the water. If I didn’t fear drowning, I would have slept in it.”
“You must make me a list. I need a copy of the labels from all the bottles.”
“Perhaps I could just—”
“Every. Label,” she says, cutting me off. “I simply must know what brands the queen used!”
“I thought we already discussed that you smell nice all on your own,” Rhoda says. “That you don’t need to copy everything that—”
“This has nothing to do with that! You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious whether the queen bathed in lavender oil from Rondo’s or Blasios’s?”
Rhoda thinks a moment. “I’ll grant you that.”
“Ha!”
Our work done for the day, we see ourselves out of the ballroom. As soon as we hit the main receiving area, I spot a figure entering the palace.
Orrin.
He’s finally back.
Our eyes meet, and a look resembling a wounded animal crosses his face before he turns away from me.
“He looks so heartbroken,” Hestia leans over to say.
“It’s not me he’s heartbroken over. It’s my sister. He’s somehow so misguided as to think we’re the same person.”
“He does seem quite … daft at times,” Rhoda intones. “However did that man inherit an earldom?”
“All of his father’s intelligent offspring must not have made it to adulthood,” I reply with distaste. “I’ll meet up with you two later,” I add, before steeling myself to talk with Orrin.
“Lord Eliades!” I call, striding up to him. I’m doing this for Rhouben. He held up his end of the bargain, and now it’s time for me to do mine. “I wonder if we might talk in private? Perhaps in your rooms?”
“There’s nothing more to say, Lady Stathos. You’ve made your feelings quite clear.”
“But perhaps if I could just explain,” I try.
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, and heads after his footman, who carries a trunk of his things up to his room.
Among all his things will be his seal. I need it if our act is to work. Orrin won’t let me into his room directly, so I’ll have to find another way.
* * *
I HAVE A NEW plan by the time Kallias joins me in the library for dinner, though I’ve no clue if it will work. Just to be safe, I retrieved the forged letter from Rhouben and had Petros fill in the date. With all the players finally in the palace, all we need is that seal.
“I’m told you and Lord Eliades had a bit of a disagreement in the greeting hall this afternoon.”
As Kallias takes his seat, Demodocus lies on the floor next to me, placing his head atop my foot, like a pillow.
“Yes, well, he was somehow under the impression that he and I were courting. A notion I’m afraid my father encouraged. After our escapades at the lake, Orrin wanted to make it very clear that he no longer wishes anything to do with me.”
“Does your father know of our ruse?”
“Of course not. He only wanted a backup plan should I not succeed in securing your hand. My father is quite set on achieving an enormous bride-price for me. His estate is … bankrupt.”
Kallias blinks. “And so he thought to sell you to me?”
“Is that not how things are done?”
“Well, yes, but not in such crass terms. Hmm. Perhaps I should do something about that.”
I know I will certainly do something about it once I’m queen.
A pause in the conversation allows us both to sample our supper.
“Tell me,” Kallias says, “when it is safe for our charade to be done with, do you not wish to marry and have a family of your own?”
“Of course I do. Marriage at least. I’m not certain about children just yet.” I want to slap myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth. How does he do that to me? Sometimes I’m convinced we’re real friends, and I can be honest. But that is the true charade, isn’t it? He is a mark, and I cannot make the mistake of becoming too comfortable with him.
If I want to marry the king, I most assuredly should have said I want children. That is the duty of a queen. To bear heirs. Never mind Kallias won’t live long enough to produce any.
“I feel the same way,” Kallias says, surprising me. “So why don’t you have any interest in Orrin? I happen to know he’s quite rich. The ladies at court seem to think him attractive.”
“They obviously have never had a conversation with him.”
Pleased with my answer, Kallias turns his attention back to his food. My foot has fallen asleep thanks to Demodocus’s significant weight, and his breath warms my other foot.
“Why do you choose the library for us to dine in?” I ask. “Do you even like to read? I’ve never seen you with a book in hand.”
“My father loved to read. He was an old man. He liked to acquire knowledge. This room not only reminds me of him, it sort of smells like him.”
Though Kallias has always been quick to speak of his mother, this is the first that he’s said anything personal of his father.
“I don’t have time to read,” Kallias says. “But even if I did, I wouldn’t. It’s not a hobby of mine. I’d much prefer to run with Demodocus or spend time with you.”
“Was he the oldest man in history, your father?”
“No. I have a great-great-grandfather who lived to be seven hundred and fifty-eight.”
“He lasted more than seven hundred years before taking a wife and having children?”
He nods.
“How long do you think you will last?” I ask.
“You doubt my resolve?” he asks, switching out courses.
“I’m trying to picture you at seven hundred years old and not having read a whole book. Will both your body and mind stay the same?” I hide my smile behind a drink of wine.
“Books are not the only way to learn. I will grow smarter and more powerful as my empire spreads. As I discover new strategies in leading my armies. As wise men and women council me
.”
“And you will grow lonelier. Don’t you think you will forget how to be human if you push away all the mortals in your life?” I’m not even trying to convince him to court me at this point. I’m honestly curious.
“I haven’t pushed you away.”
“But someday I will die. I will age, and you won’t, so long as you live your life in shadow.”
Kallias jerks away from the food he’d been bringing to his lips, as though that thought had never occurred to him. Finally he says, “That is a very long time from now.” But he won’t meet my gaze.
No matter. That’s enough friendly chatter for one night. Time to move on to putting my plan into action for helping Rhouben.
“Kallias, I heard a story about you stealing frogs from a lake to put into one of your tutor’s beds.”
He grins wickedly at the memory. “She was a terrible bore.”
I size up Kallias.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m wondering. With your ability, is it only inanimate objects you can turn to shadow with a touch?”
Demodocus leaves me and goes to sit by his master, finally restoring blood flow to my foot.
“Why?” Kallias asks.
“I have to sneak into someone’s rooms. For a friend. I wondered if you could let me in through the door. And I do mean, through it.”
“You think I will just help you break into someone’s rooms? Someone of my own court?”
“For me? Yes.”
A light dances behind Kallias’s eyes. “Whose rooms?”
“Orrin’s.”
“Do I even want to know what you’re planning?”
“I think it would be far more fun if you watched things play out.”
Kallias reaches down to pet the top of Demodocus’s head.
“Don’t pretend to be above such things with me,” I add. “I know exactly how much you like slipping into courtiers’ rooms. And with all the responsibilities you’ve been dealing with lately, you could really use a bit of sneaking.”
His smile shows his teeth. “All right, but only because it’s Orrin. And if you’re caught, I will deny having any part of it. For appearance’s sake.”
“And will you berate me in public only to pardon me in private?”
“Something like that. Now let’s be off while everyone is still at dinner downstairs.”
Kallias helps me out of my chair and holds the door to the library open for us. I pause outside.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I don’t actually know where Orrin’s rooms are.”
“I’d be concerned if you did. This way.”
I follow him down the corridor. Up a flight of stairs. Down another hallway. He stops before a door that looks just like all the others.
“How do you know where his rooms are?” I ask.
“I know where everyone’s rooms are. I like to know where all potential threats come from.”
“But you keep the most dangerous persons closest to you?”
“Not at all.” He flicks the tip of my nose with a leather-clad finger before grabbing my hand in his. Kallias glances down both ends of the hallway, ensuring we’re alone.
Then I feel myself disappear.
I never noticed how heavy my limbs are until I suddenly can’t feel their weight at all. Shadows trail along my skin, curling around my fingers, sliding over the fine hairs on my arms.
I clasp Kallias’s hand more firmly, as I’m overcome with the sensation that I’ll float away and disappear into the heavens if he doesn’t keep me grounded.
“You get used to it,” he says. “Now let’s do this.”
Kallias goes first, leaning his head forward to poke through the door. Confirming it’s empty, he then tugs me with him.
The sensation of sliding through a solid wall is akin to slicing a knife through soft butter. Very little friction. And almost satisfying in a way.
Then we’re through.
Orrin’s room is quaint compared to my queenly quarters. The drapes and bedspread are a royal blue with silver embellishments on the hems. As I try to spot the personal touches, I realize there really aren’t any. No pictures of family (as some people are possessed to have), no trinkets or baubles—there aren’t even any books on the shelves.
Perhaps with how often he travels for business, he doesn’t bother with such things.
But then I forget about my surroundings entirely, as I realize I’m still holding Kallias’s hand.
“What would happen,” I ask, “if we were to touch in this state?”
Kallias brings his free hand to his lips and tugs off his glove with his teeth. He brings his fingers to my cheek.
I register the contact, and I feel it distantly, but there’s no heat. No sensation that comes from touching someone you find attractive.
It’s rather awful, actually. Wanting that contact and not getting it. Even with a touch.
“I know,” he says, reading the look on my face. “It’s, well, a shadow of what real contact feels like.” He bends over to retrieve the glove he dropped. “I’ll wait outside and warn you if he comes. Just knock if you need anything.”
And then he slides back out into the hallway with a wisp of shadow.
I feel my limbs return to normal, watch as the shadows fade away. That feels much better.
Orrin’s desk faces the large window in the main room. His quarters consist of a bedroom and a washroom. No greeting room or study, as is in mine.
I open the first drawer and find everything I need in one neat place. The seal, wax, and the tools for lighting it.
I light the wick and set the wax above it, waiting for it to melt. Since I’ve never been very patient, I decide to poke through Orrin’s things. The rest of the drawers on his desk are filled with writing implements and some unfinished letters.
Orrin has a few chests and a wardrobe. One of the chests is locked. The other holds extra linens. His wardrobe contains nothing but his bland clothing in beiges and whites and browns.
I eye the locked chest.
“Whatever could be inside you?” I whisper to myself. Nothing else in the room is locked. Not the drawers with his correspondences. Not even the drawer that holds a pouch of necos.
I test the weight of the locked chest. I can lift it clean off the ground. It’s not heavy at all, save for the wood it’s made out of. Nor is it terribly large. Just a bit wider than my own body.
I stand after setting the chest back on the floor and look about the room. If I were Orrin, where would I hide the key, assuming he doesn’t have it on him?
I find myself back at the desk, examining the individual drawers a bit more closely.
And I note that one doesn’t appear to be as deep as the others.
A false bottom.
With a bronze key nestled underneath.
Eliades, you simple fool.
I turn back toward the chest, let out a sigh of relief when the key fits perfectly within the lock, and lift up the lid.
There’s clothing inside. Rather foul-smelling ones at that.
Why the devils would he want to lock this away?
First, I pull out a rumpled shirt in shades of brown. A smudge comes away on my own gloves after handling it, and I bemoan the loss of the garment.
Then I find a pair of unremarkable trousers. Beneath those are a pair of boots.
Orrin certainly isn’t clever enough for misdirection, so what—
And that’s when I see the final item in the bottom of the chest.
The incriminating one.
I hold up the fabric and let it dangle by the fingertips of my already-soiled glove.
A mask.
The mask.
Of the bandit. The very same one who robbed Kallias and me.
I let out a giggle. Oh, Orrin.
But of course it’s Orrin. The pious do-gooder who wants to adopt orphans. Of course he would steal from his own class and help the poor.
The fool.
At f
irst, I think to rush out and show Kallias, but then I realize he’ll lock Orrin away. I can’t let that happen just yet. He has a part to play to save Rhouben.
So I tuck the mask into a pocket of my dress, replace everything else within the chest and lock it, return the key, and finally seal the letter I brought with me before putting all the supplies back in their proper places.
Then I knock on the door. Kallias reaches a hand through, grabs me, and tugs me back onto the other side.
We begin walking.
“Did everything go according to plan?” he asks.
“Even better.”
Kallias looks me over carefully as we round a corner. “I don’t recall ever seeing you quite this elated. I’m feeling jealous knowing that Orrin is what caused it.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “I just found incriminating evidence in Orrin’s room.”
Kallias narrows his eyes. “Did you put it there?”
I laugh. “No, actually. I came for an entirely different purpose and stumbled upon it.”
“And do I get to know what it is?”
“Yes, but later. I need Orrin to do something for me first. Do you trust me?”
Kallias pauses and sizes me up, honestly considering the question. “I do,” he says at last, as though the words surprise him. He rushes to add, “I’m bursting with curiosity, but I’ll try to be patient.”
“You are so very good at being patient.” I mean the words jokingly, but somehow, I think a bitter note enters my voice.
CHAPTER
20
It’s time.
Rhouben has delivered the letter to Melita. His father, Lord Thoricus, is at court, though reluctantly. Orrin is back from his travels, which I now realize had nothing to do with business at all but were an excuse for his illegal activities as the bandit.
I still can hardly believe he has the capability and brain capacity for such deception.
But it is of no matter. Orrin will be exposed soon enough.
Rhouben arrives at my rooms at half past eight.
“She just excused herself from our outing in the gardens, saying she was fatigued and would turn in early tonight. She’s taking the bait, Alessandra!” Rhouben’s excitement brings a smile to my lips. “What do we do now?”
“I’ve bribed a servant to follow Orrin all day and send me regular letters with his whereabouts. What’s next is for me to get him to Melita’s rooms.”
The Shadows Between Us Page 19
