by Hopkins, Amy
I was cold inside. "I can't deal with this now. I can't."
"Emma, you're about to walk into a room full of people, very powerful people. Some of them thought your father was a god, most just thought he was a nuisance. If any of them were involved and thought you knew... Ah hell."
Harrod sat back in the seat and rubbed his face. He looked almost as worried as when Martin was taken.
"I'm sorry Emma, I know this is the last thing you want to talk about but... They said you found him. If you know who-"
"I didn't find him Harrod. I was there. I was there the whole time. I watched them kill my father in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop them."
"Oh Emma. Oh I'm so sorry. Gods, you were what, nine?" He stopped and I knew the question he was too afraid to ask. It was one I'd asked myself a million times.
"You want to know how I survived, don't you?" Harrod frowned, then nodded. Throat tight, I told him what I remembered.
"We were in the dining hall, having dinner. Nothing seemed unusual, until Father stood, pulled his wand out then told me to run and hide. He must have been alerted by a ward, but it was too late. A man came in and traced a spell. He was faster, I guess. Father fell to the floor, unconscious. The spell didn't affect me like it should have, I knew what it was supposed to do but it didn't work. I fell down anyway, and peeked through my eyelashes while I pretended to be asleep. He killed my father while I watched. When he was done, he wiped his knife on the carpet next to me. I was so afraid, I thought I was going to vomit. He didn't even check to see if I was awake, he just left. I stayed like that, on the floor next to Father's body until Gibble came the next morning."
I could see Harrod's reflection in the window I stared out of. His eyes were on me, and his hand reached for mine. He dropped it back when I made a small movement away. I didn't deserve his sympathy. Gibble was the only person who knew what I'd seen, the only one who knew my guilty secret. Everyone else assumed I'd been unconscious. He was the only one who knew I could have done something to help. I could have saved my father.
"Do you know who it was?"
"No. I tried looking, a little, when I came back to London. There wasn't much to go on though, and I had no contacts. My sister never liked me much and after Father died... she told me never to come back. I don't blame her, really." I shrugged, trying to believe I didn't really care what she thought even after all these years.
"You were a child, Emma. It wasn't your fault, if you'd tried to stop him you'd have gotten yourself killed too. You couldn't have saved him no matter how hard you tried." Harrod's voice was soft.
"Because I was a child, or a half-blood?" I snapped at him.
"Because he was a trained assassin. Emma, I didn't work with your father directly but I know what he did. He rallied the Talented to stand up for the rights of Otherworld servants. He exposed the bribery and corruption behind the half-blood orphanage. They were working children as slaves, Emma, and your father put a stop to it. He went up against some of the most powerful men and women in the Inner City and he took them down. These people don't mess around and they don't do their own dirty work. You're lucky to be alive."
His words rocked me. Although I knew Father abhorred the elitist attitude of many of his peers, he'd never told me what his 'business' meetings were about. Looking back, I could see that it was unusual, even the way he'd taken and introduced me to so many people. He'd always sent me away for the important discussions though and as a child, I hadn't known any better.
"There's something else." Harrod shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. "Aveline will be there."
Shit. Even after this long, I doubted my own sister wouldn't recognise me.
"You can turn back. I can take you back to the house and I can go alone."
"No, I need to see this man. If he's been watching me, I might recognise him."
Harrod sighed. "Well then. I don't think you'll be in any great danger tonight, even if you are recognised. It'll be crowded, we may not even see Aveline if she's there. The proceedings will be watched closely and those currently in power are sympathisers, so if they realise who you are they'll be especially careful to keep an eye on you. We can sneak out early, just as soon as we catch a glimpse of Opius. You don't think he's targeting you because of your father, do you?"
"No." I hoped not anyway. "The other victims didn't have any ties to my family, or to the movement. They were just... people. I think he came across me by accident, or the same way he found them. I'm not special Harrod, I'm not connected to my family anymore and I'm... there's no reason for anyone to hate me."
Harrod looked at me carefully. Finally, he nodded then looked away.
"Martin was right, by the way. You look incredible."
I blushed. "Thanks."
Chapter Twelve
We arrived at the venue, a lavish palace near the centre of the Inner City. Well-dressed brownies greeted us at the entrance, then passed us over to a faske to be admitted into the ballroom. We were led through a majestic doorway as our names were announced.
"Introducing Harrod Reginald Umbers, Third Lord of the Fifth Family, and his partner Emmeline Beaumarchais, Third Daughter of the Ninth Lord of the Twelfth Family."
A collective gasp went through the room and nearby heads turned our way. Thankfully the announcement hadn't been loud - most of the room would have missed it, but I had no doubt that within minutes every person in the room would know I was here. We descended the stairs into the ballroom. My dress floated around me, catching the eye of more than one person. The ladies around me were dressed in extravagant fabrics, dripping with jewels. My dress stood out not only for its relative simplicity, but for its elegance and beauty. I not only reached the fashion standards of the Talented Gala, I exceeded them.
Harrod led me straight to the dance floor. No one here stood on the side-lines, it just wasn't done. I stepped carefully on feet that were just a little unsteady, nerves vying to take control. When the next song started however, my anxiety melted away. Harrod was a wonderful dancer. His technique was not only perfect, he had that special trick that allowed him to lead an inexperienced dancer such as myself. With his guidance and Bee's spell, my steps were smooth and followed his easily. I suspected he was holding back some impressive skill, but he just smiled at me as we sailed across the floor. The dancing portion would last until after the highest of the nobility had entered, and had danced several rounds themselves. We had little chance for conversation with others so for now, I could relax and enjoy the experience.
If anyone could create a spectacle, it was a bunch of rich nobles with nothing better to do than impress other rich nobles. The room we were in was adorned with intricate paintings from floor to ceiling, figures that moved and sailed with the dancers themselves. The images gliding across the walls and ceiling were not only human, but Fae and Otherworld creatures alike. Only the powerful, beautiful breeds of course - no lesser being would grace these walls.
The paintings covered all walls but one, which was adorned by large windows and terraces leading out onto the gardens. As we swept past them, I saw glimpses of lights and tables outside. It seemed this was to be an outdoor affair then. Talent events had no need to worry about such trivial things as wet grass or impending rain. They had enough skill at their disposal - their own, or hired specialists - to whisk all that away with the wave of a wand.
The dancing lasted for what seemed an eternity... yet, when the music stopped I wished it had lasted longer. I was caught in the magic of the night, with my beautiful dress, lavish surroundings and, if I was honest with myself, a rather handsome man with his arms wrapped around me. That last thought was a dangerous one, but it wasn't easily dismissed. We weren't here for fun, I had a job to do. So sue me if it was an enjoyable one.
After the musicians ceased playing there was a short period of respite. Harrod mingled as his station demanded, introducing me to each person he spoke to. I wondered if the order of entrance and the dancing had some ulterior pur
pose - those of the lowest rank had been dancing the longest. Those unlucky souls were breathing a little quickly and showed some fatigue and there was no place to sit and rest. I admired their stamina. I was grateful for our late entry - my feet were already beginning to ache, despite the perfectly fitted shoes Bee had provided.
As we spoke to one man whom Harrod had greeted warmly, I heard him ask in a very low voice if Opius had attended. He was told yes, he had, but due to his advanced... condition, he had been exempt from the ballroom ceremonies. As the man walked off, a woman's voice from behind made my blood freeze.
"I see the rumours are true. You've found a little pet to further your cause, Harrod. Mind, she bites."
I couldn't talk past the lump in my throat. My chest constricted and I almost stumbled as Harrod turned to see who spoke. I didn't need to look. That voice had been burned into my memory since childhood.
"Aveline." Harrod nodded to her without turning around. He took my arm and steered me away, trying to shield me from her sight. It didn't work.
"I thought you'd have more class than that, my friend. You've won your little battle for the seat, no need to use cheap tricks to further your cause."
"Tricks, Aveline? At least I didn't try to seduce half the lords in the city trying to turn their vote."
"It's a pity the ballots were silent. I'd love to see the look on your face when you find out which of the Lords I own."
"Harrod my dear, so wonderful to see you. Emmeline, you look divine! Just stunning. Of course, no one would expect less for your formal debut, would they?" Speaking just as if she hadn't been responsible for my garb herself, Bee smoothly inserted herself in front of Aveline and clasped my arm. "Come, my love, people are just dying to speak with you."
She pulled me away and I let out a sigh of relief as I went to be introduced to her friends, leaving Harrod behind to deal with my sister. Bee announced me to a small gathering of Lords, Ladies and Fae, all of whom gushed over me like a long lost friend. Though nothing of importance was spoken of, most of them made some small reference to my father - saying he was greatly missed, or had been a real asset to the Talented community. Nothing was mentioned of my sisters.
Just as Harrod found me and was about to lead me away, the large glass doors leading outside all opened at once. The ballroom lights dimmed slightly, and those outside brightened to lead us out. We exited the room, with all the poise and decorum one would expect from a gaggle of nobility. Women whispered behind fans and men coughed, stating that surely so and so's ball had been quite comparable, if not quite so populated.
Harrod and I reached the threshold to the garden and a little piske popped up to lead us to our seat. The gardens were interspersed with large round tables, and paths strewn with white flowers between them. Despite the soft look of the grass, my feet were as steady as walking on concrete, suggesting there was more magic here than I could see.
We reached our table while it was still empty. The faske seated us, placing napkins in our laps and glasses on the table. It wasn't long before we were joined by two men, announced as Bartholomew and Stanley. Stanley did a double take upon seeing Harrod and broke into a wide smile.
"Harrod, you old miscreant! What brings you out of the slums?"
Harrod rose and clasped Stanley's arm. "Couldn't get a date? That's a first."
"Well... actually I've jumped ship, so to speak. I'm afraid it's somewhat serious."
Harrod snorted. "You've never held down a relationship for more than a week."
"Actually," Bartholomew interjected. "It's coming on a year now."
Harrod looked thrilled at this and hugged his friend. "Congratulations! A year? I'm sorry, I really have been out of touch, haven't I?"
"Yeah, you have." Stanley's voice had a serious edge to it but it was quickly dismissed. "This is Barty, anyway. Harrod here is my old partner in crime, from back..." He shot a glance at the others at the table. "Well, back in the day."
Bartholomew, or 'Barty' as he was clearly not happy to be called, looked at Harrod, then me, then back at Harrod, slyly cocking his eyebrow. The interchange was interrupted by the third couple, an elderly man and woman. Without waiting for an introduction, the three men at the table rose and bowed, Harrod gently nudging my arm. I followed suit with a hasty curtsy, hoping I didn't look the fool. Clearly these guests were important. The piske accompanying them spoke.
"Introducing the Illustrious Grand Master Dyson Undridge and his Lady, the Duchess Columbine Undridge."
Their names were familiar to me - Dyson and Columbine were a power couple in the city. They were involved in multiple dealings with the mortals, so I hoped this didn't mean for an awkward dinner. I had assumed I wouldn't be expected to make small talk, but the Duchess turned to me as soon as she was seated.
"Ah, Emmeline is it? It was quite the surprise to hear you introduced with Harrod this evening. Tell me, how are your sisters?"
I flailed for a brief moment, unsure what to say. Harrod rescued me.
"Duchess Columbine, this is Emma. She's my partner this evening. Emma, Collie and I have known each other for some time. I think you'll like her."
I smiled politely. I didn't think Harrod knew the kind of people I liked - stuffy nobles whose first concern was family rank didn't rate that highly on my list.
A faske, flightless cousin to the piskes, came by with a tray of champagne flutes and wine glasses. He placed a drink in front of each person without asking preference, until he reached me. "What would my lady prefer?"
"The pink, please," I said in a small voice. The last time I'd attended a Talent social event, I hadn't been old enough to drink. There was no set age within the society like there was outside the walls, but there was a general, if flexible consensus that eleven was the absolute minimum. Soon after Father died, I was torn from what little interaction I'd had with his people, so despite my upbringing, there were still large parts of Talented society I'd never been exposed to. I hoped the wine wasn't awful, or terribly intoxicating.
"Excellent choice." the Faske said, placing a glass in front of me. I gently moved it to one side. The drinks wouldn't be touched until the opening toast. Harrod was watching me, clearly evaluating my knowledge of the correct procedures. He smiled when he saw I was looking at him, then quickly squeezed my hand under the table. Gods, this was nerve-wracking. If I slipped up, even something so small as to take a sip of my drink too early or address someone highly ranked the wrong way, it would reflect on him badly. I knew he still networked a lot with those inside the city and I didn't want to cause him any embarrassment.
A hush fell over the gardens, then a voice boomed forth.
"Ladies and Gentleman, Nobles and Talents. I present to you our great lord and keeper of the traditions, High Master Garedd Jameson Abnett."
There was a smattering of applause. I turned to the head table set up at the front of the garden, only a short distance from where we sat. Together with the other gala guests I raised my glass in a toast to the new High Master, then took a careful sip of my wine. It tasted sweet, but had a sharpness to it that tickled my nose. I'd tasted worse.
A bell rang out across the lawn, sounding over the chatter that now filled the evening air. Abnett waited a moment for the rustles of conversation died down, then began to speak. He spoke for a long time. A really long time. He gave a short history of Talent, from the time the first people were blessed with power by the Fae, until the more recent agreements with the mortals outside the Inner City. With little inflection in his voice he touched on 'a slight unrest' that changed the way the mortals were perceived and the progress they had since allowing the Fae to join the Council. Then, just as I was sure everyone in the gardens had almost nodded off, he dropped the bombshell.
"To ensure the ongoing harmony of relationships between Talented and Mortal individuals, the Assembly shall, from the end of the year, ask seven delegates from the Mortal Race to join our other allies in upholding the peace and providing protection for those who reside i
n this Realm. I trust you will all recognise the wisdom of this decision, which has been reached by unanimous agreement of the current assembly members."
Loud discussions broke out as the High Lord sat down. One by one, little bubbles of silence popped up as guests shielded their words with spells and charms, no doubt to discuss the announcement.
I watched the reactions at our own table closely. Stanley reached over and clasped Harrods arm.
"Good news eh? You'll be right pleased, I'd say." Harrod's face beamed in return. Clearly he hadn't expected this news. He turned to the Duke and Duchess Undridge and raised his glass for anther toast.
A couple at a nearby table sniffed, scowled at each other, then stood up and walked out, followed by several shocked looks and some tittering from their dinner companions. Even I knew that would cost them politically.
Aware of the mixed feelings around us, conversation at the table was kept to other, less volatile topics - where Harrod was living, what Stanley and Bart had been up to, some minor issues the Duke had run into while managing his estate. As the men launched into a lively discussion about how best to ward off dark hound attacks on silkes, the Duchess turned to me.
"Ah, these men. Ever eager to talk of game and hunting. I imagine you'll meet tonight’s announcement with some joy?"
"Yes, of course." I shot a glance around us to see if anyone was in earshot.
"Don't worry dear, no one can hear us. Your father worked hard for this - he'd be so pleased to see that it's finally come to fruition."
"Oh, thank you." Her words suggested she'd traced a ward of silence around us. "It really is wonderful news for my kind," I said.
"Come now dear, you should be jumping for joy. I wouldn't blame you, it's been far too long coming and we do have a long way to go, but every step forwards is one less to take, yes?"
