I folded my ankles around his. “If Valko wins, it will mean the deaths of thousands of people. It will mean Riaznin’s death. He’ll crush our last fragments of identity and our freedom. He’ll oppress and abuse, worse than ever before. He won’t risk another uprising.” I tucked closer to him. “You have no choice. If you face him in battle, you need to finish him. He won’t suffer his pride to surrender again.”
All of our talk rode on the thinnest thread of hope. The reality was that Anton and I had a much greater chance of dying at Valko’s hands.
Anton’s sluggish heartbeat thumped against my ear. “Will Dasha forgive me if I kill him?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know. Dasha was only seven years old and very impressionable. She had been growing to love and trust Anton before being abducted, but now she was likely loyal to Valko. I feared the image of her that often surfaced to mind: Dasha wearing a princess’s crown made of ice and seated on a throne beside Valko, her gray eyes as cold and merciless as his.
“I have one memory with my brother, from when we were children.” The quiet rumble of Anton’s voice vibrated through his chest. “I used to not remember anything from the time before we were separated, but this moment came back to me the other day. I don’t know why.”
“What do you remember?”
“Teaching him to fish. Or at least trying to. Our mother gave us the poles, but our father could never spare the time to take us to the Azanel River. We were forbidden to go outside the palace grounds, so Valko and I snuck down to the pond in the gardens. I managed to bait our hooks and showed him what I thought was the best way to cast the line.” Anton shook with a silent laugh. “We caught everything from our shirts to the reeds until Valko’s hook finally sank into the water. Almost instantly, the line tugged, and I helped him pull in a fat carp. The servants found us then and gave us a good scolding—the fish were ornamental and not to be eaten, and we might have drowned, for that matter—but it was worth it to see Valko’s beaming smile.” Anton had been stroking my arm, but his hand paused, as if he was lost in the memory. “I’d feel easier now if I’d forgotten that. How is it that joy can bring such sorrow?”
“Joy means that you have loved,” I whispered. “It means the pain is worth that love in the end.”
He held me closer. The breeze rustled on the windowpanes, the grandfather clock ticked in time with the pulse in my wrist, and Anton’s scent of musk and pine came stronger with my nose pressed against him. I wondered what moments from my own childhood I might remember with Madame Perle’s help tomorrow night. And if the remembering would bring me joy or sorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY
WHEN I RETURNED TO THE ROOM I SHARED WITH GENEVIE early the next morning, I found a taffeta-covered basket outside our door. Inside were ball gowns for us. I suspected they were gifts from Delphine—her apology for not allowing me to see her yesterday.
With nothing more to do to pass the maddening hours until the ball began, Genevie and I took our time getting ready. The dress I wore was a shade between coral and red, its delicate gold-and-green lace dripping at my plunging neckline and the ends of my three-quarter sleeves. The skirt alone must have been made from at least thirty yards of silk. Its front panels folded back from the center, revealing swaths of green gossamer beneath. I didn’t have any jewelry, so I removed the velvet ribbons from my shoes and tied one around my neck, the bow at my nape. The other Genevie wrapped around my hair, which she’d done up in a coif of braids and curls.
I swiveled a little, admiring the flared hips of the dress. The Esten style was starting to grow on me. “Is dancing with Auraseers frowned upon in Estengarde?”
“Everything regarding Auraseers is frowned upon in Estengarde,” Genevie replied. Her voice was more than sardonic; it was distressed. The brief fantasy I’d entertained of dancing with Anton shattered. All my worries came rushing back—above all, in this moment, her.
While she looked beautiful in her tiered lavender gown, with her black hair teased into a nest of curls, Genevie’s skin was pallid and her brows drawn tight. “I think I am going to be sick,” she said, clutching her stomach.
I grabbed an empty bedpan and rushed it over to her. “You really don’t need to come tonight.”
She vehemently shook her head. “That will make Floquart even more suspicious. Besides, I do not want to be alone.”
I fought a wave of guilt for leaving her last night. I could tell by her drooping eyes that she’d slept fitfully.
“I will be fine, Sonya,” she said, her knuckles white as she gripped the bedpan. She lurched a little, then swallowed the impulse to retch. “Both of Anton’s Auraseers will be expected in the ballroom. I just need a moment.”
It was much longer than a moment before Genevie felt well enough to accompany me. I gave a servant a note to pass to Anton, explaining we would be late.
When we finally approached the ballroom’s open doors, the swirl of shimmering gowns and rich candlelight was already ablaze within. The music of a harpsichord, string quartet, and flute traipsed in time to an Esten minuet. Tension I’d unwittingly been carrying released as I reminded myself none of the auras in this crowded space would have the power to overwhelm me. Being amid throngs of people had always been breeding grounds for panic attacks in the past. That was one less thing I had to worry about tonight. Genevie, however, didn’t have that luxury.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked, watching her wobble on her feet.
“Yes, you can let go of my arm now.” She lifted her chin, her face still slightly green. “I feel perfectly fine.”
Hesitantly, I released her, and we entered the ballroom together. Eggshell pigments of pink and green dominated the walls and ceiling, and shimmering gold roses wove their way through the trim work. Golden statues of the Esten goddess Gwenaëlle, with her arms twined over her head, held up scores of candles throughout the room. Noblemen and -women danced the minuet, walking forward in pairs in a cycling parade, their arms extended and hands barely touching.
I spied Delphine in the formation, already midway on her journey back to the end of the line. She wore easily the most gorgeous dress in the ballroom—a creamy golden silk masterpiece with a diamond-encrusted stomacher. Jewels glittered from her throat, her ears, and coifed hair. When the king wished for his dearest relative to have a happy birthday, he clearly spared no expense.
Delphine found her partner again—Anton. He looked just as stunning, if not extravagant, in his knee-length coat, long vest, and matching breeches. The dark-gold fabric gleamed in the candlelight. He took Delphine’s outstretched hand, continuing the dance, and smiled warmly at her.
My cheeks burned hot. “Shall we get a drink?” I asked Genevie. Without waiting for her answer, I headed for the least crowded banquet table. I leaned against it and exhaled.
Pull yourself together, Sonya.
Anton and Delphine were old friends, nothing more. I trusted him, and I was grateful for the help she would be offering me . . . whenever she could spare a moment to leave the room. Which would be difficult as this ball inevitably placed her in the center of attention.
A servant poured Genevie and me two long-stemmed glasses of a frothy white wine. I took a sip and coughed as my mouth fizzed and nose burned. “Your wine has bubbles,” I complained to the servant as I wiped my mouth clean.
“It is champagne, mademoiselle.” He looked down his nose at me.
“The bubbles are the point,” Genevie added with a grin.
I frowned, watching her take a sip.
“Les Auraseers de Riaznin,” a nearby woman said. I heard the sneer in her voice before I turned to see it on her powdered face. She leaned into the nobleman beside her and spread her fan to conceal her mouth, though when she spoke again it was just as loudly and now in Riaznian. “Who let them into this party?”
The nobleman wrinkled his nose. “Les animaux de vermine.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound friendly. U
ntil this couple, no one had taken special notice of us in the ballroom, but their words were a stone in a large pond of prejudice. With a ripple effect, their animosity spread, and we caught other people’s attention. They turned, whispered, and pointed. They spat more words in Esten I couldn’t understand that made Genevie’s shoulders curl and head lower. I fought the impulse to demand the nobles leave us alone; it would only draw more scrutiny when we needed to be inconspicuous.
I took a gentle hold of Genevie’s arm and pulled her toward the other end of the ballroom, where no one was yet looking at us. I tried to catch Delphine’s eye as we passed by, but she was too absorbed with Anton.
Genevie and I situated ourselves near a few tall potted plants against the far ballroom wall. “People should not complain if we stay out of the way over here,” she said. “As long as we don’t dance or eat the food—”
“Or appear like we’re enjoying ourselves?” I finished for her.
She nodded and tugged the sleeve of her gown. “We should not have dressed in such finery. I know better. I suppose for one night I wanted to feel . . . like the rest of them.” As the minuet ended she watched a group of Esten girls our age who laughed with bright smiles and gathered with their circle of friends. “Their auras are light and free. I doubt they have ever felt true suffering.”
I gently touched her arm. “I wish you hadn’t suffered at all, Genevie, but you’re stronger than any of those girls because of it.”
“Am I?” She gave a rueful laugh and rubbed her hand across her stomach as she scanned the room. “Have you seen him yet?”
I knew whom she meant. “No.”
“He is out there. I feel him like a sickness inside me.”
“Do you think—?”
Her brow twitched, and she startled back a step. Her eyes roamed faster. “The feeling is stronger.” She grasped my hand. “Aide-moi! He is coming.”
I whirled to follow her trapped gaze. Floquart was fifteen feet away, just emerging from a group of noblemen, and walking straight for us.
My spine went rigid. Genevie’s grip tightened, smashing the bones in my fingers. Floquart hadn’t seen her up close in the king’s dining room. But if he came any nearer, he would. He’d see right past her disguise.
“Trinette,” I said loudly, “hurry and present Governor Ozerov our report before the next dance.”
At the opening I gave her, Genevie fled, granting Floquart a wide berth as she darted around him.
He arched a brow, watching her go, and his footsteps slowed as he ambled closer to me. “I take it Anton is still safe from any threats in the castle,” he said, one corner of his mouth curled in mockery. “Don’t you think it’s a little overmuch that he brought two Auraseers to Estengarde?”
I shrugged. “During wartime one can never be too careful, even this far across the Bayacs,” I replied, striving to be as indifferent as possible, so he wouldn’t suspect anything off about Genevie.
Another song struck up, this one a waltz. For one terrible moment, I feared Floquart had approached me to dance. Instead, he turned around to share my view of the ballroom. Of course he wouldn’t ask me to dance. I was a lowly Auraseer. But then why was he conversing with me at all?
Energy scattered across my skin, almost like aura. Perhaps it was—so fleeting, though, I couldn’t trap it. All it left me with was a feeling of deep foreboding.
“I must tell you,” Floquart said, “when I heard Anton was coming, I didn’t take the news well. I wasn’t keen on the idea of allying with a weaker nation.”
I bit down on a caustic remark. Riaznin was over four times the size of Estengarde, and more than three times its population, even though the civil war had divided us.
“But in light of the fact that your former emperor has joined forces with the Shenglin,” he continued, “perhaps Anton was right and the Bayacs may not protect Estengarde for much longer.”
I eyed Floquart warily. His words rang with false humility. I braced myself for whatever point he was driving at. Surely it would be derogatory.
“Is King Léopold as pleased as he looks?” he asked.
“Pardon?”
Floquart gestured to where the king sat on his throne, his fingers tapping to the strains of the orchestra while he smiled at his niece and Anton. Of course I couldn’t sense the king’s aura, but by all appearances he seemed untroubled by the fact that he’d ordered many Auraseers to their deaths tomorrow.
“Anton is doing his job well,” I replied, treading carefully. I didn’t know what Floquart was trying to bait me by saying. “He’s keeping the king in good spirits before they meet tomorrow. Pleasing Delphine means pleasing her uncle, after all.”
Floquart tilted his head in acquiescence and pulled a silver compact from his pocket. He sprinkled snuff powder on his knuckles. “Did you know Anton and Delphine were once betrothed, back when his father, Emperor Izia, was alive?”
My stomach dropped. Betrothed rang in my ears, clashing with the music and the din of conversation all around us. I glanced at Anton and Delphine as they swayed in the one-two-three rhythm of the waltz. Behind her radiant smile, I imagined the ache of a lost future with him. “He never told me,” I murmured.
“I suppose he never needed to.” Floquart snorted the powder and blinked twice. “The arrangement ended when Izia died and Valko became emperor.”
Realization settled across my prickling mind. Now I understood the zealous desire Valko had once harbored to marry Delphine and ally Riaznin to Estengarde. She’d been Anton’s sweetheart, and Valko was desperate to have everything his brother might lay claim to—his throne, as well as his intended bride.
“King Léopold, however, is still fond of Anton”—Floquart raised his chin—“so I’m sure another arrangement can be reinstated.”
“What do you mean?”
His mouth pursed, almost smirking, as he waited for me to catch on.
My lungs constricted. My breaths came shallow. “Riaznin doesn’t need a marriage to seal an alliance like we did before. We’re a democracy now. Anton won’t govern forever, and he’s only one member of the Duma.”
Floquart lifted a shoulder. “You’ll find King Léopold quite the traditionalist when it comes to these matters, regardless of the ever-changing whims of your government.”
“But . . . other pacts can be made to forge an alliance. Riaznin can offer Estengarde more borderland or build up better trade routes between our nations. Perhaps an Esten ambassador could serve as an advisor to the Duma.”
Floquart’s cunning eyes narrowed on me. “You’re very concerned about this, aren’t you? One might think you have feelings for the former prince.”
I felt my blood rising. “Is that why you’re telling me all this?”
“You have a knack for interfering with alliances,” he replied coolly, “as well as playing with the hearts of men in power.” I swallowed, remembering how he’d once caught me tangled in a passionate kiss with Valko. Of course, Floquart hadn’t stayed long enough to see Valko bash my head into the wall.
“Is this my warning, then?” I asked, standing taller so I could meet the contempt in his gaze head-on. “Or are you threatening me?”
“I’m watching you.” He slid his compact back inside his pocket and crossed his arms. “Do you know what the dungeon guards told me?”
“Of course not.”
“The Auraseers whisper of a grande voyante. Does that mean anything to you?”
My heartbeats slowed to heavy thuds. I looked away from him and shook my head, suddenly dizzy. The couples on the dance floor were only streaks of color and flashing faces.
“Apparently, this person inspired the ridiculous notion of freedom in the Auraseers. They were planning to run to Riaznin, which leads me to believe this ‘grand seer’ lives there.”
My cheeks were on fire. I could barely find my voice. “Perhaps they’re referring to the former emperor’s half sister.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of the child that travels wit
h Valko. There are even rumors of a rare ability she possesses to persuade others to her way of thinking . . . or feeling, I suppose. You Auraseers work with emotions, after all.”
I nodded weakly.
“I don’t believe Dasha is the grande voyante.”
“Why?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Ambassador Bertrand sent something along with his letter of intelligence from Riaznin—I’m sure Anton shared it with you.” Floquart batted his hand at me. “King Léopold hasn’t had a moment to read it yet, but I have.”
“The letter?”
“No, the book.”
Dread mushroomed inside me.
“Sovereign Auraseer by Tosya Pashkov.”
My pulse thrashed in my ears. “That poet has a vivid imagination.”
“Evidently.” Floquart’s brow arched at a severe angle. “So, again, Auraseer Petrova, I am watching you.”
“There you are, Floquart!” Delphine’s lively voice shattered the intensity of Floquart’s glare. As he turned to her, I let myself exhale. Black spots dotted across my vision.
“What are you two chatting about all the way over here?” Delphine asked, taking both of our hands. “Aren’t you going to dance with your goddaughter on her birthday?” Her sea-blue eyes riveted on Floquart at the same time as something cold and hard scraped into my palm from hers.
“Of course.” Floquart grinned, looking amiable and unruffled. “I was only waiting for my chance. Until now you’ve had a very devoted partner.”
She laughed like he’d said the most flattering thing. “Luckily for you, he is busy talking with my uncle at the moment.” I stole a glance at the king’s throne. Anton was providing the distraction he’d promised me. “Hurry before he steals me away again.”
Floquart chuckled—the sound was odd, coming from him—and bowed his head to oblige her.
Delphine released my hand, and I tucked my closed fist into the folds of my dress. Floquart missed the movement, but he gave me another tight-eyed look of warning before he strolled away with her.
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