by J. E. Taylor
She slowly nodded as I spoke.
“Is what they are teaching accurate?” I asked in a hushed voice. I always wondered how much of history was real and how much of it was made up to align with the arcane rules we had in place.
“That much of the history is true. However, what came before the great divide is when my ancestors got slighted. When a seat on the High Sixteen became available, my ancestral grandmother from the house of Rose was being considered, along with a witch from the house of Mallory. Instead of playing by the rules and doing an honest display of her breadth of magic, the witch from the house of Mallory poisoned my grandmother, tipping the scales in Mallory’s direction. The poison not only diluted my grandmother’s power in the trials, but it pushed the boundaries of her mortality, dropping her into a deadly slumber. She woke just long enough to tell her kin of the subterfuge. By the time they attempted to step in, the sectors had already been defined, and the house of Mallory was put into rule over sector eleven.
“That was when her kin put the curse on the house of Mallory. I think they meant for it to take hold right away, but something must have gone wrong because the house of Mallory has produced a female witch in every generation until now. And because Samantha Mallory couldn’t produce a female heir, it looks as if the house of Mallory will finally fall.” She gave me a haunting smile. “At least I will get to see that before I pass on.”
A chill settled in my bones, and I tried not to shiver. “So, what is with the ‘get married before twenty-five’ thing?”
Gypsy laughed. “One of the most asinine rules that the house of Mallory put in place.” A shadow crossed over her face, and she glanced away. “That bitch lured my one and only love out of my arms and into a loveless marriage with all sorts of promises that fell short. She gave birth to that arrogant brat, and then the only man I ever loved died of some mysterious disease.” Her lips thinned to barely a line as she dipped her hand into the bag and pulled out more of her powders. She started working on my transformation again.
I didn’t dare correct her slight of Jaden, not with the anger blazing in her eyes. Her obvious hatred of Jaden reminded me of Samantha’s hatred of me, and I had to wonder if there was a parallel between the two women.
“It took her almost fifteen years before she decided to go on the prowl again. From what I understand, she bedded a simpleton in the north country when she was on vacation that year. Her little escapade backfired, and she got knocked up. Perhaps she was hoping for a natural heir, but what she got was a second boy. A child just as sweet as his father supposedly was, but who carried not a stitch of common sense.” She brushed my cheeks. “Or so I heard,” she added, meeting my gaze.
“Jack was a sweet boy,” I said, affirming her assumption, and she seemed to soften. This time, when she resumed her art, I remained quiet, letting her do her thing.
After a few minutes of primping and preening, highlighting and shading, I asked the question that kept circling in my mind. “Do you think the other fifteen sectors are still in place?”
The brush on my eyelid paused, and she gave a slow, long sigh. “I certainly hope so, but who knows. I remember my mother telling me that there had been a visit from a high witch from one of the other sectors when she was young, but that was over a century ago.”
I met her gaze and then looked down so she could continue shading my eyes. The brush tickled my skin, but I forced myself to remain still and stoic. When Gypsy finally stepped back, I opened my eyes, trying to figure out if her expression was one of satisfaction or contempt.
She grunted with a curt nod and stepped close, unrolling all the mini-buns in my hair. When a corkscrew curl fell into my eyes, I huffed at the pink and blue hues.
When she had finished, my raven hair was now a wild array of colors. I had only seen hair like this once, and that was at one of the Regent’s balls. I glanced at Gypsy through the rainbow, and she swept most of it back into an up-do of some sort. When she finished and waved for me to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, I stepped in front of the looking glass and stared.
I did not recognize the woman staring back at me. She was stunning beyond compare, with the creamiest complexion I had ever seen, adorned with pouty red lips, and dark eyes made bright by colorful eye shadow. The hair complemented the entire look. I glanced at Gypsy, amazed at the transformation.
I doubted anyone at the mansion would recognize me, not even Jaden. Hell, my mother wouldn’t even recognize me if she were alive.
“I’m impressed.”
“Now for your new identity,” she said and handed me a sheet of paper. My picture stared back, along with the name Amber Briar and an address from the eastern shore.
“Now what?” I asked, following her back into the heart of her apartment.
“Now, you’re almost ready to request a meeting with her majesty.”
I laughed. “And why would I do that?” I knew I was going to go by the palace, but I had no idea Gypsy expected me to enter and request an audience with Samantha Mallory.
“It is the only way you will get an invitation to the wedding.”
I blinked and looked down at the paper again. Being invited and sitting with the guests was a hell of a lot easier than trying to sneak in. And it was eons better than watching from the branch of one of the trees outside the estate wall.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“You will enter and gush about how the news of her son’s wedding has spread all the way over to the eastern shore quadrant, and you came all the way down here in the hopes to see a royal wedding.” She smiled at me. “Gush and compliment her, the estate, and anything else you can. She will give you an invite just to get you out of her hair. But first we have to teach you to talk like an easterner.”
“What’s wrong with the way I talk?”
“Nothing if you’re from the south side of the sector, but the eastern folk talk a little different. Their r’s are softer. We say we’re going to the park. They say they’re going to the pahk. The r almost becomes silent when it is contained within a word and follows a vowel. So proud would still be proud, but bar is bah, and oar is oah, and softer is softah.”
I tried to remember any of the eastern shore visitors over the years, then glanced at the name again before adopting the persona Gypsy wanted from me.
“Hello, I’m Ambah Briah. I’m from the eastahn shoah and I’m heah to request an audience with the Regent.” I extended my hand and flashed a winning smile.
Gypsy’s eyebrows arched, her mouth popping open.
I grinned. “You thought I was a little on the stupid side, didn’t you?”
She let out a small laugh, her cheeks flushing in response. “Well, I had heard you were a bit daft.”
“There were some things my mother and I kept from the Regent. One of them was just how far from a dimwit I actually am.”
“You are full of surprises.”
She reached into the closet, pulled out a more formal pea coat, and extended it to me. Between the upscale clothing and the coat, I was almost ready to go, but both our gazes dropped to my stocking-clad feet. She snapped her fingers and stepped out the door into the thrift shop, then came back a few minutes later with a pair of high-heeled boots.
By the time I slid both feet inside and zipped up the fine leather, the knot in my stomach had tightened to an almost unmanageable level. If anyone doubted my identity...
I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath, this time to calm my fraying nerves. For all I knew, I was walking to my death today.
Chapter 13
The chill in the air swept over my cheeks. I crossed the street, clutching the small hand purse that Gypsy sent me with. She sat in the cafe across the street from the Regent’s estate and had instructed me to walk like I owned the entire town, like I had a right to enter the premises. Despite my thumping heart, I did exactly as instructed, taking advantage of the fear and turning it into a visible excitement.
I stepped through the gate, and the gu
ard immediately put his arm out, stopping my progress before he stepped in front of me. I looked up into familiar brown eyes. Cameron Hinkle looked down on me with a perplexed glare.
“State your name and your business with the Regent,” he said in that overly formal manner I had heard for years.
I smiled. “I’m Ambah Briah,” I said as if he should know who I was. When he just raised an eyebrow, I continued. “I’m from the eastahn shoah and I’m here to request an audience with the Regent.”
“Identification, please?” He held his hand out, waiting.
I pulled the papers out of my clutch and handed them to him, keeping the smile on my lips. I glanced towards the mansion, gawking like Gypsy told me to as he stepped into the guard station. When Cameron stepped back from the small alcove, he handed me the papers and nodded towards the house.
“Regent Mallory’s assistant will meet you in the entry.”
I beamed and stuffed my papers back into my purse. I nearly skipped to the door, exuding as much enthusiasm as I could muster. When I stepped inside, I widened my eyes and took in the grand entrance to the mansion like I had never seen it before. The architecture always had impressed me, but pretending this was the first time seeing the grandiose entry was interesting.
“Ms. Briar?”
A voice to my right called my attention away from the marble-lined staircase. I turned, facing another familiar face. Tasha had seen me at least a dozen times a week when I was serving the Mallory family, but there was no hint of recognition in her eyes.
“Yes,” I said and offered my hand.
Tasha took it and gave it a quick shake before she waved me to the right of the entry into the wing with the offices.
The moment we stepped into the hall, my gaze landed on Jaden. His gait slowed as he stared at me. I met his stare and plastered an overwhelmed smile on my face. I didn’t know whether to curtsy or bow at the sight of the Regent’s son, so I did some sort of half-assed combination.
“S—Sir Mallory,” I stuttered like all the nimble-minded fan girls did whenever they saw him in the street. My heart thundered in my ears as I prayed to the elements for him not to recognize me.
“Miss,” he said, giving me a head nod, but his gaze lingered, taking in my entire form before he gave me a hint of a smile. The spark of interest in his eyes almost made me lose my concentration.
“Ambah Briah,” I said and stuck my hand out as if I remembered my manners.
His dimples made an appearance, and I thought for a moment he knew it was me. He accepted my hand and made a grand gesture of kissing my knuckles.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Briar,” he said.
I knew he was just as clueless as Tasha and Cameron had been. I had seen him do the same thing to countless visitors. If he knew it was me, he would have just accepted the handshake and not done the formal greeting that his mother insisted upon. He left us standing in the hallway staring after him.
“His fiancé is a lucky woman,” I whispered to Tasha, giving the impression of almost swooning at the attention of Jaden Mallory. Inside, my eyes were rolling.
She gave me a tight smile and continued to lead me to the Regent’s office. With Jaden as clueless as he was, my confidence in the Regent not identifying me solidified. Although, I still didn’t know how to get a wedding invite out of the entire thing, or what the hell I was supposed to gush about.
Tasha pushed the door open and led me inside. Samantha was engrossed with something in the papers laid out on her desk. She didn’t bother looking up until Tasha cleared her throat.
Samantha raised her gaze, taking the two of us in. I let my eyes wander around her beautifully designed office as if I was seeing it for the first time. When my gaze returned to the desk, Samantha was standing and quietly studying me.
“Oh, I’m very sorry, Regent. I didn’t mean to be rude, but everything I’ve seen since I’ve entered your home is impressive.” I flashed a smile.
She gave me her tolerant expression. “May I help you?”
Heat filled my cheeks, and I shifted my weight. “Word of the wedding prompted me to come. I have always dreamed of seeing a royal wedding in person...” I dropped my gaze. “It might have been a little presumptuous of me to come all this way, but...”
“Where exactly are you from?” she asked.
“Eastern shore country, your Regency,” I answered, hoping I hadn’t unintentionally lost the accent.
She raised an eyebrow. “You got here awful fast, considering it has only been a few days since my son agreed to be married.”
Gypsy had walked me through this line of questioning, so I just nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. One of the local witches had a vision. She heard of the search for a suitable witch and was hoping she was in the running.” I rolled my eyes, opting for something more brazen than a wide-eyed, fan girl. “After she said someone was going to be chosen, I left the next morning.”
“And you expect me to believe that you walked here and still look like that?”
“No, ma’am. I’m a woman of means. I arrived a couple days ago, just in time for the announcement. It took me this long to get up the nerve to come see you.” I folded my hands in front of me. “You see, I’d like to build a career planning weddings when I get out of school, but I haven’t had the chance to see a fancy wedding, at least not one like the scale of a royal wedding, and I thought this would be a great opportunity.”
She studied me with narrowed eyes. I projected what I thought was the right level of nerves, biting my lower lip as she weighed her decision.
She stepped around the desk, approaching me in a predatory way meant to intimidate.
“A wedding planner?”
I met her gaze and beamed a smile. “Oh yes, your Regency. Planning weddings is my passion. The flowers, the meal, the music—it all must be done in a concert of timing and flair. When done well, no one knows any different, but when it isn’t, the most significant moment of someone’s life can be ruined by the ineptitude of the planner.”
She looked over my head at Tasha. “Do you agree with Miss Briar?”
“Yes, ma’am. A well planned event is seamless.”
The Regent looked down at me.
“I want to see what a perfectly planned event looks like,” I said, playing directly to Samantha’s vanity. “Up close.”
She nodded slowly. “Well, then, Tasha, see to it that Miss Briar has an invitation.” Her eyes pierced into me. “And then after the event, I would like to hear what you thought of the presentation.”
I smiled. “My pleasure.” I gave a small bow of my head, showing my respect. “Thank you,” I added but didn’t leave my spot.
“Please show Miss Briar out,” she said and returned to her desk.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tasha said, and I followed her out of Samantha’s office. She stopped at her desk and pulled out an invitation, handing it to me. “I am planning the wedding.”
I gave her a smile. “Then I’ll be sure to not give any bad feedback.”
Tasha blinked at me and cocked her head.
“It’s the least I can do for you since you control the Regent’s schedule and allowed me an audience with her,” I said.
It was common knowledge that the Regent’s personal assistant controlled Samantha’s visitors’ schedule. No one got into the Regent’s office without Tasha’s say.
She smiled and a blush brushed her cheeks as she stepped away from the desk. The minute we walked into the hall, Eleanor passed us without so much as a glance. She stalked straight into the Regent’s office. I caught the sour expression on Tasha’s face, but I kept my peace and followed her into the grand entry.
“Thank you,” I said and offered my hand. She shook it, and I walked out of the building.
“Do I know you?”
I jumped at the sound of Jaden’s voice and nearly tumbled down the stairs. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to his chest to prevent me from falling. I met his gaze, and my breath caught.
&
nbsp; Time stood still and we stared until I blinked and came to my wits.
“Thank you,” I said and stepped away. “And no, we haven’t met before today.”
He grinned, and that sparkle returned to his eyes. “I just have this nagging feeling that I should know you.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes and shrugged. “I certainly would remember speaking with the Regent’s son. Hell, I’d be the envy of my entire town if they knew I was talking to you right now.” I laid it on as thick as I could muster without gagging on my words.
He laughed in that rich baritone that made my heart quicken. In the back of my mind, I wished he would just call me out. But he didn’t. Instead, he took my hand and brought it to his lips again.
This time it was my left hand, and as he pressed his lips to my skin, I felt the electricity building between us. He opened his eyes, and his gaze landed on the ring.
He froze, but he recovered faster than I did. I had forgotten to leave the ring behind. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and my throat tightened. That spark of intrigue turned into a fiery anger. He let go of my hand and stepped to my side as if he was going to pass me.
“Star?” His whisper hit my ear.
“It was nice meeting you,” I said, glancing his way before I climbed down the steps.
The spot between my shoulder blades burned, but while every fiber in my body wanted to turn to see if he was still staring at me, I refused to give in to the sensation. I didn’t turn. Not even when I entered the coffee shop across the street.
My heart was pounding so hard, I didn’t hear Gypsy ask how it went. I collapsed in the chair next to her, still lost in the feel of Jaden’s hand and the whisper of his voice saying my name. I closed my eyes, remembering ever moment.
“Well?” Gypsy’s shrill question drilled through my reverie.
I glanced at her before opening my clutch purse and pulling out the coveted invitation. “You just have to do this magic again, and we will be able to go to the wedding.”
Gypsy’s grin reminded me of a picture I had seen at the old library. I think it was called a shark. They tore their victims to shreds, and I was sure Samantha would do that to me if she ever found out about my ruse.