Jayce had insisted she wear long white gloves to cover the healing cuts on her knuckles and to make her bare upper arms more striking. He’d found long, soft cross-laced white boots for her legs that hinted at an icarus’s much more utilitarian footwear, and he’d run a line of white feathers down their sides. “Unusual. A little defiant,” Jayce had said with approval, looking at her. “They’ll be easy to dance in, and the fabric hides your calves.”
“What’s wrong—”
“‘Muscles aren’t ladylike.’” Cassi rolled her eyes at Taya. “Don’t pay any attention to him. Jay-jay likes his women plump and cuddly.”
“A man who prefers women with hard bodies might as well sleep with another man,” Jayce retorted. Cassilta swatted her nephew across the head.
“Watch it, brat. Chicks might be cuter than eagles, but eagles bring home dinner and defend the nest.”
“Barbarian.” Jayce placed a delicate gold mesh over Taya’s newly trimmed hair and began weaving white and gold feathers into it, pulling them behind her ears. Taya stood motionless, watching as he created narrow, swooping wings from brow to nape. Cassi had already done her face for her, pulling a surprising number of tiny jars from her purse.
“You carry all this with you?” Taya had asked, amazed, holding up a small jar of lip paint.
“You don’t?” Cassi had countered.
Now they both looked at her reflection as Jayce stepped back.
“That is a completely outrageous dress,” Cassi said with delight. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Jaws are going to drop.”
“I don’t know about this,” Taya fretted. She hardly recognized herself. She looked like she’d just stepped off the stage of some fairy-tale opera. Alister’s joke about exalteds and their layers of embroidered robes returned to her, and she wondered how much of a scandal she’d cause, showing off her figure so brazenly at an exalted party. “Maybe I should wear something that … covers more.”
“Covers more? You’re an icarus!” Jayce reached forward to tease curls of her hair down around her face. “Freedom defines your caste. You don’t want to wear the same dowdy fashions the cardinal or plebeian castes would wear. And if there’s one thing exalteds aren’t, it’s free. Besides, you’re too small to carry off layers of robes.” He regarded her with satisfaction. “This sets a new standard for icarus fashion. I’m a genius.”
“You’re a genius, kid,” Cassi agreed, hugging her nephew and ruffling his hair. “Now come on; let’s see if Taya’s coach is here.”
Estate Octavus stood on the highest street in Primus sector, surrounded by other exalteds’ mansions. The street’s cobbles were flat and smooth, laid together like pieces of a puzzle, and the gas lamps were small masterpieces of ironwork placed every twenty feet to keep the neighborhood bright. Taya had visited the street before, but only to deliver messages. The mansions’ peaked, slate-tiled roofs and forbidding iron gates looked more much imposing when she approached them at ground level.
Carriages blocked the road, and everywhere she looked, masked and robed exalteds were flowing into the estate, followed by liveried lower-caste servants.
Peering out the window of Gregor’s coach, Taya touched her lips, worried. Was she going to be mistaken for a servant, showing up at the party without a mask? Then she pulled her fingers away before she could disturb all the work Cassi had done. To give her hands something to do, she stroked the soft velvet cloak Jayce had let her borrow for the night.
Lady, what am I doing here? She twitched the window curtain back even farther, impressed by the sight of ivory and gold masks glittering in the lamplight and silk and silver hems sliding over spotless streets. Long embroidered sleeves dangled over the exalteds’ fingertips, so that only their long glossy hair, caught up around their heads in complicated braids and loops, revealed that the creatures beneath the masks and robes might be human.
“Ostentatious incapacitation,” Pyke had called exalteds’ coverings. Baroque, mouthless masks to prove they didn’t need to give orders. Heavy, movement-inhibiting garments to prove they didn’t need to run or carry. Everything an exalted might need to say or do in public should be anticipated by their perfectly trained lower-caste servants, and if it wasn’t, there was nothing the exalted could do about it without outraging tradition.
The way Viera Octavus had briefly outraged it by abandoning her mask and robe to lift her child to safety.
Despite Pyke’s scorn, Taya thought the sight of so many ornately covered aristocrats was eerie and majestic. Very few people were privileged to see behind the masks, which gave exalteds an air of mystique that the nobility of other countries lacked. Maybe that’s why other countries had so many revolutions. People there took their rulers for granted. Exalteds, by contrast, stood apart from the rest of humanity by virtue of their elite birth and strict code of conduct.
A footman approached her coach and spoke to Gregor, then tapped on the door.
“Taya Icarus?”
She drew in a deep breath.
“I’m here,” she replied as he opened the door. The cold autumn air made her pull her cloak close around her.
“May I escort you to the door? Lady Octavus told us to bring you in as soon as you arrived.”
“Thank you.” She took his hand and let him help her out of the coach, grateful for his assistance. Sitting and standing in a tight dress wasn’t a maneuver she’d ever needed to practice before.
“Good luck, Icarus,” Gregor called out. “The man there says your transportation home’s been taken care of already.”
She turned and waved.
“Thank you, Gregor.”
He gave her a cheery salute.
Heads turned as they walked through the street and entered the estate gates. Taya shivered under her cloak, feeling naked compared to all the covered guests around her. Well, there’s no turning back now, she thought, squaring her shoulders. If nothing else, this dress will confirm the fast-and-loose reputation of icarii everywhere.
The doors were wide open and the foyer was lit by a thousand wax candles placed on high shelves and chandeliers, well above the long sleeves and dragging hems of the exalteds’ heavy robes. Gold-framed mirrors reflected the light and the guests in an endless regression that made Taya dizzy. She swallowed as dozens of featureless ivory masks turned to watch her.
The footman led her through the foyer to the inner doors.
“May I take your cloak?” he asked. She glanced around and saw that here, safely away from the street, exalteds were shedding their public robes and pulling off their polished masks, laughing and greeting each other like normal people.
“Of course.” She slipped out of the velvet cloak that had seemed so luxurious in Jayce’s shop but now struck her as thin and tawdry compared to the exalteds’ garments.
It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself. Nobody expects me to dress like an exalted.
I hope.
Heads turned as the footman took it and revealed her bare upper arms and daring décolletage.
Bracing herself, Taya stepped inside the reception room. Strangers turned to stare. She froze, wondering what to do.
A woman broke away from the crowd, and Taya recognized her hostess, Viera Octavus.
“Taya Icarus,” she said, her strong voice carrying through the chamber. “We are honored that you have come.”
Light applause greeted her words. Taya kept her gaze fixed on the woman as she walked across the ballroom floor. They met in the center of the ballroom and Viera grasped her hands, leaning forward to rest one blue-tattooed cheek against hers.
“Thank you,” the exalted said, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t look so nervous.”
Taya gave the exalted a crooked smile as they separated. Was it that obvious? Viera slid an arm through hers, leading her back to her husband
, a tall, patrician man with silver hair and a lined face. The decatur had married a much younger woman.
“Caster,” Viera said, “this is Taya Icarus.”
The elderly decatur smiled at her. Taya bowed, touching her gloved palm to her forehead.
“I am pleased to meet you, Taya.” When she straightened, Caster took her hand and held it. “I cannot thank you enough for saving the two most important people in my life.”
This time Taya didn’t start, and she was glad Alister had accustomed her to being touched by the upper-caste.
“I was just—” she remembered the fictional interview in The Watchmen and deliberately chose different words. “It was my pleasure, Exalted.”
“I doubt it was a pleasure, Icarus, but I am grateful nonetheless. Come. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the Council.”
He took her arm and led her away, Viera on his other side. Taya was glad that her gloves kept her palms from sweating on Caster Octavus’s embroidered silk sleeve.
Lady, please don’t let me embarrass myself or my hosts.
Some of the decaturs Caster introduced her to were familiar — Constante, Iullus, Macatus, Metella — men and women whose messages she’d carried over the years. None of them had ever asked her for her name when she’d worn her icarus wings, and none of them recognized her now as they shook her hand.
Only Decatur Forlore smiled at her like a friend.
“I’ve had the honor of meeting Taya several times,” Alister said, bowing over her hand. His fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her glove. “She’s always impressed me in the past, but tonight she’s rendered me speechless.”
“You’ve never been speechless in your entire life, Al,” Viera teased. Her cousin ignored her, holding Taya’s hand and smiling.
Taya felt a blush creeping up her face. The decatur’s eyes were intense, their emerald depths set off by his dark green outer robe, which was patterned with coiling vines. His under robes were lighter shades of green and lavender. Gold glittered on his fingers and in his hair, making him gleam like one of the Lady’s immortal spirits themselves.
“On the contrary, Viera, tonight I have no words to express myself, for my steel-winged hawk has transformed herself into a silken swan.” Alister lifted her hand and brushed the back of her glove with his lips.
“Enough, Alister. Taya has other guests to meet tonight,” Caster said. Taya glanced at him, wondering if she’d heard a trace of censure in the older man’s voice. Alister released her, but she felt his eyes on her back as the Octavuses led her to the next decatur.
She hardly heard any of the other introductions, bemused by Alister’s touch. Lady, he was handsome!
After Taya had been introduced to the entire Council, Viera reclaimed her and led her away.
“I promised Ariq I would take you to visit him tonight.”
“I’d love to see him again.” Taya followed the exalted through a small side door. “But does he really want to meet me? Our flight scared him.”
“He was terrified,” Viera agreed. “But then, so was I.” Her eyes twinkled. “It took him a few hours to begin enjoying all the fuss being made over him. That’s when he started bragging about how he went flying with an icarus. Now I think he’s completely forgotten his tears.”
“I’m glad he’s all right.”
“Yes. By the way, you look lovely. Is that an icarus dress? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Taya looked down, embarrassed. “Yes. It’s an icarus dress.”
“It’s very flattering. I wish I could wear something other than these layers of fabric every day.”
Taya glanced at her. Viera, like the other women in the ballroom, wore several light silk robes in contrasting colors. The hems brushed her ankles, much higher than the dragging hems exalteds wore out in public — tailored for dancing, Taya assumed. Viera’s outer robe was a deep blue, and her interior robes were rich saffron and crimson.
“If I could have come in my flight suit and wings, I would have,” Taya admitted.
“You would have disappointed every man in the room.”
They passed through a small hallway and up the stairs to the house’s living quarters. Ariq was in his nursery, being read to by a famulate nanny.
“Mommy!” The boy leaped up and ran to his mother. “You look pretty tonight, Mommy.”
Viera leaned over and hugged him, then turned him around to face Taya.
“This is Taya Icarus, the woman who saved us,” she said, her hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I promised I would bring her up to see you before you went to sleep.”
Ariq looked at her with open curiosity.
“Where are your wings?”
“I took them off for the party.” Taya knelt, mentally cursing the corset for making bending over impossible. “I’m happy to see you again, Ariq.”
Viera nudged the boy, who held out his hand.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said solemnly.
“You’re very welcome,” Taya replied, shaking his hand. “Maybe we can go flying again someday, if your parents agree.”
“Maybe…” he said with hesitation. Taya smiled up at Viera, who laughed, kissed her son, and stood.
“Good night, sweetheart. Mind your nanny.”
“Good night, Mommy.”
Viera led them back, pausing in an antechamber to pour two glasses of golden wine.
“Could you really take him flying?” she asked.
“We have a few pairs of trainer wings and guide harnesses that we use to teach the new children.” Taya was careful as she held her crystal goblet, aware of what Cassi’s nephew would say if she spilled anything on her dress. “There’s even an adult set for the occasional visitor who wants to try flying. Foreign diplomats, mostly. Not many Ondiniums want to go aloft.” Except Alister, she thought, amused.
“I suppose those who do are all chosen to be icarii during their Great Examination.”
“Do you plan to have Ariq take the Exam?”
“Oh, no, of course not.” Viera sounded distracted, and after a moment of silence she sat down. “Taya, you have heard that the wireferry accident has been blamed on the Torn Cards, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t help but wonder if the accident had been meant for my husband. He would have been on that car yesterday, if his Council discussion hadn’t been extended.”
“Do the Torn Cards have any reason to hurt him?”
“I don’t know why they would.” Viera looked distressed. “Caster is one of the most conservative anti-programming voices on the Council; you would think the Torn Cards would approve of that. But it doesn’t make any sense for them to try to kill me, either. I have no voice in the Council at all.”
“It could have been a random act of terrorism. Or maybe the lictors were wrong, and it wasn’t the Torn Cards.” Taya remembered the question Cristof had asked her. “Did anyone else know that the three of you were supposed to be on that car?”
“Not all three of us were. The trip has been planned for several weeks, and our original plan was that Caster would come down to meet us at the gallery— one of our friends is holding an exhibit, and we had arranged to meet her for a private viewing.” Viera looked troubled. “That morning, Caster had warned me his meeting might run late, so I went up to the Tower with Ariq to see whether he was free. When it became clear he wouldn’t be able to excuse himself, we headed back down by ourselves. But if everything had gone as planned … it would have been him on the wireferry.”
“Has your husband considered hiring a bodyguard?”
“He’s too proud. He has assigned extra lictors to us, but he doesn’t want any protection for himself.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Taya apologized, feeling awkward. “The fir
e at the refinery was blamed on the Torn Cards, too. Maybe they just decided to scare people that day.”
“You didn’t see anything suspicious around the ferry, did you?”
“No. But I wasn’t looking for anything, either. It was just coincidence that I happened to be there.”
Viera sighed. “I apologize. I don’t mean to burden you with my concerns. I simply thought…”
“If I hear anything that might help, I’ll tell you,” Taya promised, just as she’d promised Lieutenant Amcathra. She thought again of Cristof’s wireferry map, all marked in pencil — but no. Cristof wouldn’t hurt his cousin, Taya chided herself. Just because he was eccentric didn’t mean he was a killer. She’d already accused him of a crime once, and he’d given her a perfectly good explanation for his whereabouts and dirty hands that night.
“Thank you.” Viera stood. “I had better return you to your admirers. I have no doubt that Alister is hoping for a dance after dinner.”
“What’s Alister like?” Taya asked, trying to keep her voice innocent as they entered the main room again.
“Oh, he’s impossible.” Viera shook her head with affectionate dismay. “My cousin’s an incorrigible flirt. He ought to be married by now, but ever since he became a decatur, he’s been locked up with programmers and the Council all day. The girls used to flock around him when all he did was throw parties, but now they consider him a bore.”
“Then he’s not…”
“Engaged?” Viera flicked a quick glance at her. “No. I have never known Alister to be serious about any of his paramours. I don’t believe he’s ready to go wife hunting yet, although Caster and I would like him to settle down. He needs to, if he wishes to pursue a political career. A good marriage would offset the fact that he’s the Council’s youngest decatur.”
Taya sighed. Well, there was her answer, very delicately put. If she wanted a temporary romance, she could have it, but she shouldn’t expect anything else. Alister would marry for political advantage, and that meant marrying another exalted.
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