by Jordan Rivet
Mica would have to investigate the warehouses on the waterfront another day. Tonight, she had a party to attend.
Chapter Sixteen
Jessamyn lent Mica a dress she hadn’t worn yet to show off her Obsidian beauty. The gown was pearly white and gossamer thin, making her look as if she were wearing a swath of moonlight. The bare-shouldered cut was less formal than the gowns the ladies usually wore to social events at the palace, and a royal-blue mantle would protect her from the crisp night air. Mica’s moonbeam hair fell loose over the mantle in a shimmering curtain. She adjusted the length a few times, finally settling on tresses long enough to brush her backside—which had been rounded and shaped for maximum allure.
As a final touch, Jessamyn gave Mica a dazzling sapphire necklace to wear for the night. No sooner had the heavy gems settled on her chest than the princess changed her mind and ordered her to remove it.
“You’re supposed to look like a glamorous noble lady, not a queen.” She rummaged through her jewelry boxes. “Hmm, that was a gift from Lady Elana . . . she’d recognize it . . . that was my mother’s . . . that one’s just dreadful.” Jessamyn paused and studied Mica for a moment. “It’s better without jewelry. Now hurry up and put on those shoes with the crystals.”
Jessamyn herself donned a regal shade of carmine sure to stand out against the blues of the sea, and before long they were sweeping out of the palace doors to a golden carriage waiting to carry them back to the docks. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, and most of the lords and ladies had already gone on ahead. They would arrive last—and in style.
Banner opened the carriage door for them, his freshly polished boots shining.
“My princess. My lady.” He offered a smart bow to each of them then glanced back toward the palace doors. “Where is Miss Brin?”
“She wasn’t feeling up for the cruise,” Jessamyn said. “Can you imagine?”
Banner frowned. “She was quite excited.”
“She doesn’t care at all about inconveniencing me,” Jessamyn said petulantly. “Go on then. We mustn’t keep our guests waiting.”
Banner handed them into the carriage, casting an approving eye over Mica’s new face, and strode away to take his seat by the driver. Mica was left alone, facing Princess Jessamyn across the royal carriage.
“Now then, you must get into character,” the princess said. “I won’t tolerate any slips tonight.”
As the carriage rolled out of the palace gates and bounced down toward the harbor, Jessamyn grilled Mica about her life as an Obsidian lady named Rowena. Mica had taken classes at the Academy on how to develop safe background stories for her impersonations. The key was to include as much truth as possible and never ever to break character. Even so, it was strange to speak with the princess so directly. Jessamyn usually flung orders at her while she did several other things at the same time. Mica didn’t think they had ever sat face to face for a conversation before—real or not.
“Do tell me more about your estate, Lady Rowena.” Jessamyn leaned forward and touched her arm, as if they were sharing a secret. “I’ve heard such lovely things about the southern coastal regions.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mica answered in an Obsidian accent, low and musical. “The rocks around the South Bay are volcanic, and the sand is as black as coal.”
“I could read that in a book. Tell me how it feels to walk along one of those beaches.”
Mica did her best to describe a place where she’d never been as if it were her home. Then the princess pelted her with questions about her family and her role in the Obsidian King’s court. She’d endured similar examinations at the Academy, and by the time they neared the docks, she felt confident in her impersonation. Jessamyn seemed thrilled with the game of it all.
“I hope you enjoy the cruise, Lady Rowena,” Jessamyn said. “You’ve never seen Jewel Harbor like this.”
“How far will we be sailing?”
“It’s not about the sailing.” Jessamyn gestured out the window, where the water was coming into view. “We’ll do a circle between the arms of the crescent, first staying close to our own waterfront and then looping around past the shores of Old Kings. We’ll dine on the most exquisite food and drink you’ve ever encountered. And the company! I can’t wait to introduce you to some of the lords.” Jessamyn’s laugh seemed to fill the whole carriage. “We make them handsome in the empire.”
The evening was taking on a surreal quality. Mica had played many noblewomen since arriving at the Silver Palace. She knew people treated them differently than regular women, making way for them and taking pains to ensure they were happy. But she hadn’t ever spent time with Princess Jessamyn in a noble guise. She was getting the full blast of Jessamyn’s charm.
The carriage stopped, and the princess didn’t wait for Banner before opening the door and leaping out.
“Here we are. Ah! Isn’t it gorgeous?”
She took Mica’s hand and pulled her across the dock to the party barge. It was transformed in the twilight. Tiny lanterns strung from silk cords trailed from the low railing all the way up to the crow’s nest. The colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, making the barge look as if it could take off at any moment and fly into the setting sun.
A row of uniformed Shields saluted as Jessamyn and Mica crossed the gangway to the waiting vessel. As soon as they were aboard, the Shields dispersed to the smaller boats to escort the party barge into the harbor.
The noble guests were gathered on the wide stern deck, lounging on linen-covered cushions around low tables. Many already had goblets in hand, which they raised to greet the princess as they showered her with compliments.
“Your gown!”
“Your hair!”
“You look stunning.”
“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.”
Jessamyn hurried to introduce her companion. “You must meet my new friend Lady Rowena of Obsidian,” she trilled. “We’re going to show her true Windfast hospitality tonight. Oh, Lady Wendel, I love your dress. You must tell me where you got that fine wool. Lord Nobu, won’t you be a dear and fetch me a drink? Come along, Lady Rowena, we must watch the sunset from the bow.”
Mica let the princess pull her forward, every eye following them. Mica’s carefully constructed beauty drew looks of admiration and jealousy as intended, but that was only part of what ensnared the attention of the guests. Mostly it was the princess herself. Jessamyn seemed to have a magic orbit of energy and glamour, one she could invite a select few to share. This was her talent, her power. She made her friends and admirers feel special. And tonight, at least, Mica felt it too.
They took up a position in the bow as the barge cast off. The deck swayed beneath their feet, and the lights swung from the mast as they glided across the harbor, evidence of the oarsmen working hard in the hidden bowels of the vessel. The scent of salt and damp wood soon replaced the cloying odors of the overcrowded capital, and the rush of water softened the city noises.
The silver dome of the palace glowed as daylight crept from the city, leaving behind streaks of purple and indigo and gold. The shifting colors transformed Jewel Harbor from a busy, overwhelming mess into a thing of splendor. Mica didn’t need to pretend to be awed. She had lived in Jewel Harbor for months now, but Jessamyn was right: she had never seen it like this before.
Lights had begun to come on along the waterfront, making the city glitter like a gem, when the princess’s voice startled Mica out of her reverie.
“I’ll leave you here, Lady Rowena.” Jessamyn pressed her hand as if they shared a special friendship. “I do hope you enjoy yourself.” Then she waltzed away in a whirl of carmine to clink glasses with Lady Ingrid, leaving Mica alone.
The evening was warm still, and Mica removed her royal-blue mantle to feel the breeze on her bare shoulders. Well-dressed servants began to circulate with wine and trays of food in bite-size portions: fresh oysters, tiny pieces of toast piled with peppers and baby shrimp, delicate cakes topped with seashells
made of spun sugar. The nobles lounged around the decks, expertly juggling drinks and delicacies as they admired the view of their city from the harbor.
Mica couldn’t help noticing the other boats sailing beyond the protective ring of their escort vessels. Sailors in worn trousers stared at the feasting nobles as if they were mythical creatures, and Mica felt the urge to call out that she wasn’t really one of them.
“Lady Rowena, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Mica turned to find Lord Dolan bowing deeply before her. The nobleman, who was known for his influence with the merchants’ guild, had small, close-set eyes and wispy hair, which he parted straight down the middle. He was among Jessamyn’s more persistent suitors.
“My name is Lord Dolan. I have traveled in your fair lands before.”
Mica dipped her head in the Obsidian fashion, her hair falling forward over her bare shoulders. “Did you enjoy your visit, my lord?”
“Indeed. The food is superb.” He raised his drink, which was nearly empty, in a toast. “I must say it’s impossible to get proper Obsidian cuisine in Jewel Harbor.”
“Such a shame.”
“My lady.” Young Lord Fritz shouldered in beside Dolan. “Princess Jessamyn suggested that you might wish to have some of the interesting features of our coastline pointed out.”
“That would be—”
“I can do that for you, my lady,” Dolan interrupted.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Fritz said earnestly. He pointed across the water to where the outline of Old Kings was visible against the star-strewn sky. “Do you see that hill rising above the eastern shore? That’s the ruins of the old Amber Kingdom. The bones of ancient kings can still be found in a crypt dating back three centuries.”
“It’s actually four centuries,” Lord Dolan said, giving the younger lord a dismissive sneer. “At least tell the lady the correct information.”
The two lords jostled each other as they pointed out more landmarks for “Lady Rowena.” Mica made polite noises in response, though the two lords paid little attention to whether or not she was actually interested in all the things they wanted to tell her.
“An Amber King was the one to unite the Windfast islands against our Obsidian foes,” Lord Fritz said. A blush stained his boyish cheeks. “Begging your pardon, Lady Rowena. I’m not saying you’re a foe.”
“It’s quite all right,” Mica said graciously. “Tell me more about this Amber King.”
“He was a Talent, they say,” Fritz said. “A Shield who couldn’t be killed. But he wanted to protect the other nations too.”
“You don’t really believe that,” Lord Dolan scoffed. “He was a Muscle. I’m certain of it. That was back in the days when kings rode into battle and physical strength carried more weight.”
“No, I’m sure he was a Shield.”
Mica happened to glance over her shoulder as the two lords argued over ancient history. Lady Lorna had her eyes fixed on Lord Fritz. A faint frown creased her forehead as he fawned over the beautiful newcomer. Many of the guests were stealing glances at Mica too. Jessamyn had left her at a prominent location, as if she was on display for the crowd milling around the forward deck. Mica felt a little uneasy with so many eyes on her. She hoped her impersonation would hold up under such intense scrutiny.
Lord Dolan had taken over the lecture again. “The Talent strain stopped appearing in our imperial line roughly four generations ago . . .”
Mica caught a glimpse of the Obsidian captain of the party barge watching her from across the deck, twisting his blue-veined hands. He seemed confused, as if he couldn’t imagine what a lady from his homeland would be doing here. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask too many questions about “Lady Rowena’s” origins.
“. . . and that was when my family took over the merchants’ guild. We’ve been running it ever since.” Lord Dolan had switched to a different history: his own. “We are always interested in trade relationships with lands near and far.”
Mica murmured something noncommittal so as not to get Dolan’s hopes up about a new trade partnership with her fictional noble family.
The night grew darker, and there was talk of dancing. The hired musicians clambered up to sit on the flat roof of the cabin so they’d be out of the way and struck up a simpler tune than the usual elaborate courtly dances. The nobles quickly partnered up, using the forward deck as a dance floor. Those who didn’t want to participate retired to the lounge area in the stern.
Lords Fritz and Dolan argued over who would have the first dance with Lady Rowena, but before they could settle the dispute, Lord Riven swooped in to take her arm. He introduced himself and guided her onto the small dance floor with an imperious air. Envious eyes followed their every step.
Mica had been practicing her dancing, and she didn’t mess up too badly despite the audience. She was nimble on her feet, and—as she had told Jessamyn—she was a fast learner. She was beginning to think she needn’t have spent so much time on her origin story, though. Lord Riven spent the whole dance talking about himself: his hunting trips, his extensive holdings on Amber Island (which happened to include Redbridge), his skill with the sword, his fine collection of horses. He wore his mask of lordly arrogance so thick it was impossible to tell how much was his actual personality and how much was a role he had decided to play. Mica suspected he didn’t even like women much, but he was a powerful man who wanted to make an even more powerful match, ideally one that came with a seat on the imperial dais.
Mica couldn’t predict if Jessamyn would end up taking Riven as her consort. She’d have to pick one of her suitors eventually, but her mask was even harder to see through than his. Mica still hadn’t figured out which of the lords the princess actually liked. Well, apart from Lord Caleb.
She hadn’t seen the Pebble Islands lord since right after the fiasco with the emperor. In the midst of being fired and rehired, Mica hadn’t forgotten her encounter with Caleb in the corridor. She assumed he had later found Jessamyn and told her about whatever had been troubling him, but the impression of that brief moment had lingered. He had looked at her and recognized her for who she was. She couldn’t help thinking about him after that.
And about how handsome he is . . .
Mica stamped down on the thought, even as she peeked over Lord Riven’s shoulder to see if she could spot Caleb. She couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, but the nobles were strictly off limits, especially those who were hiding things. She wouldn’t jeopardize her mission for a man, no matter how appealing.
Lady Bellina appeared to be looking for Lord Caleb too, standing on her toes and peering over the crowd of dancing couples. Her golden curls were especially bouncy today, and she wore a blue dress that matched her eyes exactly. Mica noticed Lord Nobu sneaking glances at her. Perhaps he’d be a better match for the curly-haired lady. Bellina may be pretty, but Mica had never seen Caleb looking at her with anything more than courtesy.
The song ended, and Lord Riven executed a perfect bow, not quite meeting her eyes. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Rowena.”
“I was pleased to hear so much about your accomplishments,” she said dryly. “Truly, you are magnificent.”
Lord Riven coughed, his mask slipping to reveal a hint of confusion, and he handed her off to Lord Fritz. The boyish blond twirled Mica around until he caught sight of Lady Lorna’s face, at which point he sheepishly handed her off to Lord Hugh, the younger of the two Ivanson brothers, who happened to be standing nearby. Hugh was so shy that he could barely look at her as they waltzed stiffly around the deck. As soon as the song was done, he handed her over to Lord Dolan.
Dolan had been drinking deeply while waiting for his turn to dance with the beautiful Obsidian guest. His breath was sour, and his hands around her waist felt damp through the gossamer gown. He kept her for two dances, holding her a little too tight and a little too close. Mica maintained a polite mask, trying not to allow revulsion to show on her disguised features.
; When a third song began, Dolan still didn’t let her go. His sweaty hands slipped further down her back, grasping, groping. Mica wanted to wrench away, maybe jab him in the kidneys for good measure. An Obsidian lady probably wouldn’t handle the scenario the way a soldier’s daughter from Stonefoss would, though.
How do these ladies deal with boorish behavior without breaking decorum? Am I supposed to put up with this?
Mica struggled to create distance between them without blowing her cover, but Dolan refused to relinquish an inch no matter how much she squirmed. His breath was hot on her neck, rattling her composure.
Then a familiar square hand tapped him on the shoulder.
“May I cut in?”
It was Caleb.
Dolan narrowed his small eyes, looking as if he wanted to say no. Mica seized the opportunity to twist loose from his grasp, abandoning decorum altogether. She offered Caleb her hand, and then they were spinning away from Dolan, weaving through the other couples toward the opposite side of the dance floor. Mica took in deep breaths of night air, relief flooding her senses like fog rolling off the sea.
“I hope you don’t mind me stepping in, my lady,” Caleb said as they broke through the crowd near the portside railing. “Lord Dolan can be overeager. Would you like to take a break from dancing?”
“No, I’ll dance with you,” Mica said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “If you wish.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Caleb adjusted his hand on her waist, where it had tangled in her long tresses, and they swayed in a small circle at the edge of the crowd. He wasn’t an especially smooth dancer, and it occurred to Mica that he always arrived at the lessons late and left early. He must not like dancing at all, yet he had intervened when he saw Lord Dolan making Lady Rowena uncomfortable. Mica beamed up at him for that, making good use of her perfect mouth and otherworldly green eyes.
