“He is a proper lord. He took me to the gardens on high street, and he did not do more than walk with me arm in arm.” She sighed with pleasure.
“You are so lucky, Antoinette!” Louisa said with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Soon you’ll leave us and be a lady in your own manor house in the country.”
Antoinette lowered her lashes and smiled secretly. “Perhaps,” she said. “He’s going away soon to fight in the south, but he says when he returns he is going to take me away.” She giggled, and the two of them clapped and joined the song.
If I cannot save Johai and stop the specter, then all of their dreams will never come to fruition. A shiver crept up my spine and raised the gooseflesh on my arms. A sense of foreboding had settled in my stomach, and I could not shake it. I rubbed the gooseflesh and tried to focus on the night ahead. Before long, we drew up on the royal palace of Sanore. It was a stark contrast to the pale beauty of the Danhad capital, and it was even more intimidating up close. Dark gray stone rose in turrets against the overcast sky, blurring with the misty clouds and muting the scenery with their lack of color. Slit windows and widow’s walks surrounded the outer walls, and dark thatched roofs adorned the tops. It was all bleak and gray and made me ache for the open sea views and weather-smoothed stone of Keisan.
I lowered my gaze and turned my thoughts back to the task at hand. I swallowed my nerves and prepared for my performance. We drove up the main road that led to the palace gates. It was made of cobbled stone and lined by tall cypresses. The carriage jolted as we came to a sudden stop.
“Problem, sir?” Philippe asked from the front of the carriage.
Antoinette, Elenna and a few of the other women continued a threading of song that drifted over the slowly dying light of the day.
“State your business,” the guard said, ignoring Philippe’s question.
There was a slit in the fabric behind where Philippe sat, and I peered through it at the palace guard. The guard wore a red cape, and a crimson horse was painted on his breastplate. His helmet had a T-shaped opening that he looked through, and the metal of the helm stopped just above his mouth, which was set in a hard line.
“We are here to perform for Her Majesty’s pleasure,” Philippe said as he waved his hand towards the palace.
“You’ll need to enter through the back at the servants’ gate,” the guard replied.
“We are her honored guests,” Philippe countered with a playful tone. “We were requested by the queen herself.”
“Servants enter through the back,” the guard repeated in a clipped tone.
Someone gasped before clamping their hand down over their mouth. A ripple of shock went through the carriage. Antoinette and the ladies stopped singing. The night was heavy as the last notes of their song faded away into nothing. A few people whispered to one another, the sound a murmuring discontent. Philippe readjusted in his seat and switched the reins from one hand to the next.
“As you command, sir.” Philippe’s voice had lost all of its playful jesting. Perhaps the invitation had not been as personal as it was interpreted. Looking around the back of the wagon, the other women seemed to be thinking something much the same. Then a terrifying thought occurred to me; what if this was a trap and Elenna and the others had been caught in the middle? The cart lurched as we changed direction.
“I’m surprised they would treat us thusly,” I commented in a vain attempt to calm my tormented mind.
“You’re from Jerauch, correct?” another girl, Yvelle, asked. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. That was the story we told, but anyone familiar with the country would know I shared no resemblance with their peoples.
“Yes,” I said to avoid further questioning about my heritage.
“Well, things must be different there, because in the Palace of Mirrors, those who are not born fortunate cannot hope to be accepted into their world.” She nodded in the direction of the palace gates.
I looked out the back of the wagon at the shrinking form of the palace guard. It had never occurred to me, coming from a life of privilege, how different it was to be at the bottom. I realized belatedly, my aspirations to infiltrate the palace may have been more grandiose than I could manage.
We were allowed entrance through the servants’ gate, a humble gate of solid oak enforced with iron. One guard waited there, and after a quick explanation from Philippe, he signaled to another guard inside the gate to let us in. The gate was drawn back, the chains clanked, and the wood groaned. We rolled through, and the cart came to a squeaking halt. We climbed out of the wagon, and a servant in royal livery, crimson and gold with a red horse embroidered on the breast, was waiting for us with arms crossed over his chest. He glowered at us over his hawk nose.
“Please hurry this way,” he said as we gathered up props and costumes. He did not wait for us to get nearly half of our props before he turned on his heel and went through a doorway behind him. I adjusted my mask a little tighter before climbing down from the wagon. The other players seemed to have regained their spirits as they chatted merrily and followed after the royal servant.
The servant led our group down a long hallway that ended at a chamber door. He held it open, allowing everyone to file in. As I passed him by, our eyes met, and he scowled at me. I tilted the corner of my mouth up, giving him what I hoped was a mysterious expression. He shuddered and looked away. I lowered my gaze with a smile and went inside.
“Wait here until you are summoned,” he snapped and then slammed the door behind him.
The room we were left in was not much larger than a storage closet, and the players squabbled as they bumped elbows and attempted to fix their wigs and costumes. I allocated myself to a far corner and tried to stay out of everyone’s way. I twirled the end of the ribbon that held my mask, a nervous action to keep my restless body from pacing. Elenna came to stand beside me, and without saying a word, she rested a hand upon my shoulder. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Once I did, I felt calmer for it. I looked up at her, but she was not looking at me, she had her eyes on the door. The servant had returned.
“We’re ready for the first performance,” he said.
I stood up and walked across the room towards him, pulling up my hood as I did so. The others stopped and stared, and from the corner of my eye, I saw one of them make the sign of warding before being slapped by Antoinette.
I took another deep breath and followed the servant out into the hall. The storage closet was across from a kitchen. I could hear cooks shouting orders, and the smell of cooking meat filled my nostrils and turned my stomach.
“Come along, then.” The servant maintained his agitated pace all the way down the hall. We exited into a corridor. And just beyond it was a long hall surrounded by colonnades. A curtain had been set up at one end and blocked off a portion of the hall, creating a makeshift stage. I stood just out of sight in the corridor. The sounds of courtiers and the clinking of forks and knives filled the air. My hands shook, and I balled them into my gown.
“What’s your delay? You are to begin.” The servant motioned with a sharp gesture to the stage. I stepped out from the corridor and onto the stage. There was no ambiance like at Jon Sixton’s villa. I blinked in the lights upon the dais. Without the atmosphere to disguise me, I felt vulnerable and naked. I stood in front of the Neaux courtiers, who laughed and drank and paid me no heed. I resisted the urge to shade my eyes, and I cast about the room, unsure if I should begin. Maybe I should announce myself?
At the far end of the room, five thrones sat. The center two were larger than the rest, gilded and inset with large gems. My focus narrowed upon them, and the sounds of the dining courtiers melted away. Upon the throne, a young woman with golden curls sat. On her head, she wore a golden crown inset with rubies that cast flame-colored light upon her hair. A velvet robe, dark as blood, was draped over her shoulders and clasped at her throat with a golden pin, fashioned like curling leaves. The robe hung over the edge of the throne and pooled on the floor beside
her.
The words spilled from my mouth without my consent. “Princess Sarelle, the golden princess, was destined for that throne.” I pointed to where the vision of Princess Sarelle smiled at me with an innocent tilt of her head.
Every eye in the room turned, and I could feel their gazes boring into me, but the vision had a grip on me, and I could not stop the prophetic words from falling from my lips. A shadow loomed over Princess Sarelle, a dagger in its hand. It stabbed her in the back. She slumped forward onto the ground, and a pool of blood stained her golden hair.
“I speak of youth, of beauty’s brief touch upon our lives.” The words came out, musical to my own ears. “She was a sunlit summer day, ended by the bite of autumn’s frost. Beware the jealousy of fair-seeming friends. Heed the sounds of whispers, just barely grasped. Before it is too late.”
My vision cleared, and the sounds of the dinner party returned in a rush. Where Princess Sarelle had sat, now a middle-aged Neaux woman sat. She had the olive complexion of her people, and her onyx curls shot with silver were arranged on top of her head with a few loose pieces framing her oval face.
The guests glared at me, some leaned in to whisper to those sitting next to them. The name Sarelle was passed around like wind blowing through the trees. How long had it been since Sarelle’s passing, perhaps six months? The wounds that had nearly plunged both our kingdoms into war were laid bare. What was I meant to learn from this, or was this a message for someone else? This is the court where she had lived most of her youth. These were people who had known her, seen her smile, seen her dance, and seen her shine.
Queen Celeste stood. I fell to my knees in a deep bow. I would be discovered for certain! How could I let a real vision take me at such an inopportune time! I peered up at her from behind my mask. She frowned at me and grasped a scepter with her right hand. The three thrones beside hers were smaller but just as ornate, two of them were occupied. Beside the queen, a young woman with cropped black hair that curled around her ears glowered and sat with her arms crossed over her chest. The third, a frail young woman with sunken cheeks, sat poised at the edge of her chair, a miniature of her mother and older sister. This is Sabine’s family. If only I could reveal myself to them, but I dared not. Anyone could be an enemy here.
“Enchantress, do you speak to accuse of some foul play? Who should sit upon my throne but myself?” the queen said at last.
Words caught in my throat. I had spoken without thinking, and I feared I had overstepped my boundaries. What have I done? “Your Majesty, I meant no offense. I merely speak what the veils reveal to me.”
The young woman with the cropped hair sat at the edge of her seat, and her hand hovered near her hip. For what she reached, I could not be certain, because there could not be anything hidden on her side along her ill-fitting gown. She was very peculiar. Aside from her short hair, she also carried herself differently than most women. She possessed an air of authority.
The queen waved. “Very amusing, continue as you did at Ambassador Sixton’s fete. That was much more amusing than these dire visions you bring for us today, or so I’ve been told. Now I am not so certain.”
Scattered tense laughter swept over the room. Despite that, the mood had changed dramatically. They were not ignoring me now. Indeed, every eye was trained on me.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” I lowered my head before rising to my feet once more.
Nobles were brought before me, one after another, and I read their manufactured fortunes as Elenna had taught me. The queen watched me from her throne, no longer frowning, but I could feel her eyes on me, assessing. Her oldest daughter watched me with open hostility. I was glad when my part had ended and Elenna stepped onstage to relieve me. She entered the scene a picture of springtime and beauty, a garland of flowers upon her head.
“I thank you, lady of the veils. Now we bring you a play of Roberto and Josephina, a tragic love story,” she said, giving me my cue to leave.
She bowed to me, and I returned it, my body trembling. I hurried off stage without provocation. The others met me in the corridor, preparing their entrance. It appeared they had not heard my faux pas because they greeted me with smiles and clasped hands.
I murmured a ‘good luck’ before fleeing the hall.
The servant who had escorted us about was nowhere to be seen. My breathing felt heavy and the thought of being locked alone in the tiny room filled me with dread. I headed down the long corridor and opened up a doorway, which blessedly led outdoors. I inhaled the fresh air. I leaned against a wall before slumping onto my bottom and pulling my knees in close to my chest. I exhaled, letting go of my confusion and frustration.
What am I doing? I had come here looking to free Johai, yet here I was chasing after Adair’s ghosts. Because that was what it was; I did not truly want to know what Jon was after or if he was working with Adair. I knew he was close to Adair, and despite my attempts to set thoughts of Adair aside, I could not. He had betrayed me, and the anger had kept me up at night as I plotted vengeance. I wanted a way to stop him. I wanted him to suffer for what he did to me. I did not know how, but the thought was consuming me and distracting me from my vow.
“I am a fool,” I muttered to myself.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor I had just left. I jumped to my feet and moved into the shadows. The steps continued down the hallway for a few moments, and then voices accompanied them.
“Nasty business, Princess Sarelle,” a man said.
“I thought we had put that to rest long ago,” a woman replied.
I slid up to stand along the wall and crept closer to the doorway to better hear the exchange. The woman’s voice was familiar to me.
The man sighed. “Mayhap not, have you seen the Danhadines about as of late? Seems their king sent a whole garrison, along with the new ambassador, since there’s trouble in the south and all.”
“Something similar happened in my home country. The Biski tribes gathered and sieged a holdfast in the south,” the woman replied.
I gasped and covered my mouth. I knew that voice. I crept closer to the doorway and tried to peek around it, but the speakers were too far for me to make out their features without revealing that I was listening.
“Did they? Strange things have been happening, to be certain. You never told me, why did you leave your home country?”
The woman laughed. “Oh, no real reason, I wanted an adventure, I suppose.”
The man grunted. “I don’t know how much adventure there is being a lady’s maid.”
“You would be surprised. You can find pleasure in most anything.”
The footsteps receded, and I dared to poke my head around the corner. I saw her from the back, auburn hair braid down her back and a white cap on her head. I did not need to see her face, but I knew her anyway. Damara, why is she working as a lady’s maid in Sanore? I wanted to chase after her, but I dared not reveal her to her companion. It was apparent she was hiding, and I dared not risk her disguise, not with so many Danhadines in Sanore and Jon Sixton already aware of me and Johai. I leaned against the wall. I had exiled Damara. It was my words that damned her and led her here to be a maid to some high-born lady.
I decided it would be best if I headed back inside and waited for the performance to finish. I would find Damara again and apologize, but tonight it appeared I would need to lay low. After that performance, I could not risk searching the palace, not without raising suspicion. I wasted my chance. What did that vision mean? Who did Sarelle trust that betrayed her? I could not take any more risks to find out tonight. I made sure to look about for others when I was returning and was fortunate again to return without incident. I found the storage room door open. The others may have forgotten to close it. Despite that, I eased into the room and scanned about the square space. There was no one inside, so I headed to a chair at the far end of the room.
A hand gripped me from behind and twisted my arm around. I shouted, but a second hand clamped down on my mouth, and my screa
m was stifled instead. We tussled for a moment. I tried to wriggle free of my captor when the sharp sting of metal dug into the flesh of my exposed throat.
“Do not move,” a husky voice said.
I whimpered but dared not move.
“Good, listen to me, soothsayer. Stay away from court, and do not stick your nose where it does not belong.”
I did not have the room to protest, not with a knife held to my throat. However, Beau had taught me some self-defense in case of an instance such as this. With my body pressed against theirs, it gave me the angle I needed to attack. I stepped on the instep of their foot, and they loosed their grip enough to give me room to swing about and grab their forearm. As I was lashing out, I was surprised to find the soft flesh of a woman where a man’s firm chest should be.
My assailant regained her hold and shoved me against the wall. Pain bloomed in my skull as they ground my face into the stone.
“Do not pull any tricks. I have no reason to keep you alive.” My attacker was a woman. I heard it now in the inflection where before I had assumed a man.
“What do you want from me, then? If you are willing to threaten me, why not finish the job?” I taunted, a potentially foolish move, but my curiosity was piqued.
“Do not make accusations where you are unwelcome. Not everyone in this palace is an empty-headed fool. I know who you are, illusino.”
The term sent me spinning, my gut instinct had been correct. I should never have come here, no matter my disguise. Now I was sure I would be sent back to Danhad or worse.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Heed my warning. Stay away, or next time I won’t be as generous.”
She released me, and I leaned against the wall to steady myself. Have I gotten myself in too deep? Why had she not captured me and turned me in if she knows who I am? These questions would only spurn me further and lead me deeper than was perhaps wise to tread.
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