Fabulous.
“So, you didn’t get in trouble about yesterday,” I said.
Thad shrugged. “I always get in trouble,” he said. “I’m just not important enough to stay in it.”
I glared and looked ahead, and I noticed a handsome young man walking toward us.
Danton.
“Crap!” I gasped.
“Where?” Thad asked.
I fumbled in my cloak, making sure it covered as much of me as possible. “I can’t let him see me like this.”
Thad’s understanding surged with an embarrassing amount of amusement. “Calm down,” he whispered. “I got you covered.”
I opened my mouth to say something when Danton said, “Thaddeus Mendax!” Familiarity rang in his voice.
“Oi, there, Point of Fact,” Thad said.
Danton chuckled and stopped before us. “Staying out of trouble?” he jeered. “How unlike you.”
“Enjoying intermission, actually.” Thad grinned. “I know how you hate it when I steal your limelight.”
Danton shook his head. “Well, hello, boy.” Danton crouched and scratched Egan between the ears while Egan sniffed Danton’s boots. I felt Danton’s eyes on me, and I turned just enough to keep my face shadowed.
“Who’s your friend?” Danton stood.
“Just a guest Master Jaren asked me to show around,” Thad said without hesitation. “And where is Lord Point of Fact headed this morning? I’m surprised to see you so up and alert. I heard you had a rather late night.” Thad’s tone was lathered in implication, and I suddenly felt warm all over.
Danton didn’t seem flustered in the slightest. In fact, he seemed as cool and confident as ever. “You know I’d never trust you with that kind of information.” Danton smiled.
“Worth a shot, though,” Thad said.
Danton chuckled, but I felt his curious eyes on me once again. “See you tonight?” he said at last.
“The largest gathering of self-importance in the history of Gaia? I wouldn’t miss it even if your life depended on it,” Thad replied.
Danton smacked Thad on the shoulder and walked on.
I waited till I could no longer sense him before speaking, but then Thad beat me to it.
“Don’t tell me you were with Point of Fact last night.”
I looked at him through my hood; his brow was arched and his lips were shaped in disapproval.
“I was locked in a dungeon picking thorns, remember?”
Thad’s jaw dropped and the grass fell out of his mouth. “You were with Point of Fact!”
My eyes narrowed. “So?”
“So…he’s probably the only guy in the world Del Can’t can’t stand.”
How convenient. “And I care what Alex thinks because…?”
“Because you still care about him,” Thad said, and I started to argue but he cut me off. “Don’t act like you don’t. Anyone with an eyeball could see how you change when he’s brought up. Not to mention, Point of Fact is the son of Lord Commodus—not your favorite person, from what you’ve said about him.”
“And?” My anger simmered. “Relation means nothing. Danton shouldn’t be judged by what his father has done. They are two totally different people.”
My tone silenced him, but it didn’t stop him from making a face.
At last, he said, “Whatever you say, Rook.” And he held his arms up in surrender.
We continued walking through the courtyard in a somewhat angry silence—well, I was angry, Thad was just irritated. Egan, however, was quite in his element, pouncing on fallen flowers and bouncing them between his paws, leaving behind trails of colorful petal piles. We passed a young couple, sitting on a bench and smiling at each other with splotchy red faces, and I remembered the Aegis dinner.
“How was the dinner last night, anyway?” I asked.
Thad sighed. “It’s okay, Rook. I know all you really want to know about is Del Can’t.”
I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow.
He grinned. “I will say, though, that I can see why you like him so much. I think I’ve got a man-crush on him, myself.”
I nudged him again, harder this time.
He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” He shook his head. “The dinner wasn’t anything special. Goldilocks seemed pretty upset, though, and your dad did a lot of frowning.”
“Did he say anything to you about us sneaking out?”
Thad shook his head. “Not really, but he did say—”
Someone screamed.
It came from inside the castle, not far from where we were standing. Thad and I exchanged a glance and ran inside.
People were huddled, whispering to each other, craning their necks to look toward the assembly hall. We pushed past them, past their tight and worried faces, until we reached a few armed guards that had begun pressing the people back.
“Everyone back!” commanded Sir Armand from my left, my dad right behind him.
Both men pushed through the crowd, anxious and uneasy.
The people whispered, afraid.
“He ran that way!” A lady pointed, her eyes wide with fright.
“Who?” my dad asked.
“The dark rider.” Her voice trembled.
Dad’s lips tightened and he glanced back at Sir Armand. Sir Armand turned to his guards. “You three go,” he said. They nodded and took off down the hall, their armor clanking over the stone floor.
“Did you see it happen?” My dad turned to the lady.
She shook her head as the gentleman beside her tried to calm her down.
Dad looked back at one of the guards. “Did he get inside?”
“No, sire,” the guard replied. “It seems like something scared him away.”
More guards had arrived at the scene and, per Sir Armand’s command, began pushing the crowd away, blocking off the hall.
“Go on,” said a guard before me.
“But that’s—”
“You heard the captain,” he continued.
I tugged off my hood and his intake of air was sharp.
“Sorry, princess,” he said, studying me with a frown, “but the orders are everyone—”
“Daria.” My dad’s voice was firm.
The guard stepped aside and I pressed forward. I noticed Sir Armand position himself before a man in armor, lying on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” Dad asked, his face wrinkled in anxiety. He was scared.
“What happened?” I asked.
He opened his mouth to say something but instead glanced over his shoulder at Sir Armand. “Daria, please don’t be wandering the castle alone.” His blue eyes were so worried.
“I’m not, I’m with Thad,” I said.
Dad glanced past me, saw Thad, and nodded. “It’s the dark rider,” he continued, his voice low. “He—”
Cicero appeared behind my dad. He nodded at me briefly before leaning to my dad’s ear, and whispered. My dad shifted and I could just see around him.
My blood froze and I suddenly felt sick.
A guard lay there in his armor, and his mask was gone. It looked as though someone had emptied him of his insides, sucked him dry, leaving only a shell behind. His skin was wrinkled like a raisin, ashen and folded. His eyes were gone leaving nothing but dark and empty sockets, and his lips were cracked and dry, hanging open with a silent scream.
Bile rose in my throat and my dad shifted back, blocking the dead guard from my view. I’d never seen anything so disturbing in all my life.
“Daria, I want you to stay in your room with Rhea until I get you for the dance tonight, all right?” Dad asked.
I nodded, speechless.
Dad started to turn, and I said, “Dad?”
He glanced sideways at me.
“What’s in the assembly hall? What was he after?”
“The unity stone.” Dad’s gaze was solemn as he held mine. “And he’ll try again. Let’s hope whatever scared him off this time returns when it happens.”
>
Chapter 9
The Grand Ball
“Can’t…breathe…” I said.
My lungs had gone from “slightly constricted” to “I’m about to die of suffocation,” in all of one pull.
“Sorry!” Rhea loosened one of the ties on my back, and I inhaled sharply.
Rhea stopped fiddling with my gown and moved her hands to something safer—my hair.
“Do I really have to wear this thing?” I pulled my strapless silvery dress up, but it slid back down to a level I wasn’t all that comfortable with.
I mean, really, they make straps for this sort of thing!
“Yes, dear, the dance is a major event,” Rhea said. “It’s the time when representatives from each territory come forth and show off their contestants for the games this year.”
“That still doesn’t explain why I have to wear this.” I gestured to my gown.
“It’s very important that you are there, looking every part a princess.” She adjusted a curl on my head and secured it with a silver pin. “There are still many in this world who have not yet seen you, and it’s best you make a lasting impression.”
“But the king won’t even—ouch!” I yelled, as she lodged a pin into my scalp.
“Sorry, dear, but you won’t hold still.”
I gripped the edge of my chair. “I still don’t understand why this festival is such a big deal.”
“Because,” Rhea continued, scouring my curls for her next victim, “the winner of the games will inherit Pendel, and with all seven territories governed, a true ruler can be named.”
“Who does the naming?” I winced as she adjusted a pin.
“The Dalorens, but only after all seven lords are in place.”
Fleck’s kind. “But I thought they didn’t leave the keep?” I asked.
“They don’t,” Rhea continued. “It’s been centuries since they’ve stepped foot on Valdon’s soil, but for the naming they’ll hold a ceremony here at the castle.”
I didn’t like the idea of them coming to the castle, especially with Fleck here.
“King Darius isn’t a true ruler, then?”
She found a curl and twirled it around her finger. “He is and he isn’t. His family was…elected because the people needed a ruler, and that title has stayed with the Regius family ever since. But once that seventh territory is occupied, there can be a true king balanced by the other lords around him, and that king will have access to Gaia’s power—sanctioned by the power and wisdom of the Dalorens—which King Darius doesn’t have now.”
“How does that work—Ow!” I jerked as she stabbed me again.
Rhea pulled another silver pin from the dresser. “Only Gaia knows the answer to that one, dear. Bloodlines and such. But after Galahad’s lineage was lost, Pendel was lost, and since then, the people have had nothing but a prophecy given to them decades ago by the Dalorens, speaking of this night, when a new line can replace the old and the balance of power can be restored. The people have been impatient for this night. The games this year will be the only way to rectify their anger toward your grandfather.”
Stab.
“Okay.” I hunched away, holding my hands up defensively. “Can I at least keep the rest down?”
Rhea tapped her chin and smiled. “Perfect.” She spun me around and we both studied my reflection in the mirror. All my fears were confirmed. There was way too much skin showing and it looked like a toddler had been given paints and used my face for a canvas.
“Can we wipe some of this off?” I started wiping the blush from my cheeks and Rhea grabbed my hands.
“Not unless you want the bites to show. Besides, you look stunning, dear.” She squeezed my hand. “Trust me.”
“But I feel so…so…”
“Feminine?”
I set my jaw. “Well, the word I was going to use was ‘ridiculous,’ but I guess they’re pretty much the same thing.”
Rhea laughed. “You just wait.” She patted my bare shoulder. “I guarantee you’ll have a different perspective before the evening’s through.”
I highly doubted that. I’d only worn a dress like this one other time in my life, and that had been almost six months ago, when the king had decided to reveal me to Gaia, well, the Gaia that was present. I hadn’t liked it then, and I certainly didn’t like it now.
Not to mention, there were still little red dots all along my arms. Rhea had done an impressive job of covering the bites on my face with an ungodly amount of makeup, and my chest and back had somehow come out of the blood ant attack unscathed, but my arms? She’d spent about three hours using healing charms to get them to fade, and the end result looked like someone had stabbed me all over with a pushpin.
I’d tried persuading her to let me wear something more conservative and had pulled out a simple black dress with sweeping long sleeves and a top that buttoned around my neck. I had thought it would be nice, but Rhea had snorted and proceeded to tell me that the king wouldn’t stand for his granddaughter looking like she was attending a funeral in a convent.
So, I’d been subjected to this strapless, silvery, diaphanous…thing. In the middle of winter.
After much arguing, she’d agreed to let me take a scarf to cover my arms when it was time to leave. A see-through silk scarf.
“The bites are so small and the lighting will be so dim, no one will notice,” she had said.
There was a light rapping on the door.
“Don’t move,” Rhea whispered, and dashed away.
Voices murmured and Rhea was back at my side, carrying a bouquet of beautiful, exotic flowers, bright oranges and reds and yellows—hardly the shades of winter—and when I breathed them in, their scent tickled my nose and made me feel suddenly giddy.
“For you,” she said, and set them on the table beside me.
“But who…?’
She handed me a note.
The paper was heavy, the creases perfect and sealed with red wax and stamped with the letter “P”.
My cheeks flared and I spun on her. “Who sent these?”
“Relax.” She smiled. “Their family servant delivered them himself.”
I took a deep breath, stared at the note and very carefully lifted the seal.
Princess Daria—
I think I may safely assume that dancing is probably one of your least favorite pastimes, but I wanted to ask if you’d do me the honor of reserving one for me.
Happy Birthday.
Danton
I folded the note and looked back at the flowers feeling very, very confused. “Is this normal?”
Rhea tilted her head. “Is what normal?”
“Getting flowers before a ball?”
Rhea looked at me like I’d just spoken Chinese.
“I mean,” I continued, “giving flowers is something friends do, too, right? It is my birthday, so it doesn’t really mean anything…?”
Somehow Rhea’s eyes rolled without actually moving. She rested a hand on my shoulder. “Those are dragon’s breath from the Valley of Kings—the flower of raging passion.” She squeezed my shoulder.
Well.
I mean, I liked Danton. I really liked him. He was nice and personable, and talking with him on the roof last night had been the first time I’d felt at ease in months. The first time I’d actually felt at home here. But that didn’t mean I wanted him to send me flowers of “raging passion.” Actually, that complicated things a bit.
“Well,” Rhea continued, “your father will be here any moment to get you.”
Dad.
I hadn’t seen him since this morning’s ordeal with the dark rider. From what I had understood, the guards had never found him, the king had hurried to cover it all up, and everyone was happily distracted with the upcoming ball. Well, everyone except my father. He was unhappily distracted, and in that unhappy distraction had deployed even more men to guard the corridor that led to my room.
There was a tap on my door, and my door opened. Dad poked his head in; hi
s hair had been combed neatly to the side and a green cape was slung over one shoulder. When he saw me he smiled.
“Hey.” I stood.
“Hey?” He stepped into the room looking like a prince. “Is that all I’m going to get from you now? Come here.”
I walked toward him and once I was within reach, he pulled me in his arms and squeezed tight.
“I love you more than anything in this world, do you know that?” He spoke in my hair.
I nodded.
“Fleck is perfectly safe,” he said. “He’s with Master Antoni and will be at the ball tonight.”
I sighed. “You’re not angry with me?”
“No, I’m not angry. I understand why you’re afraid for him but—” he pulled back to look into my eyes “—he’s dealing with things that are far beyond either of us, now, and he needs proper guidance.”
“What he needs is a family, and the king—”
Dad squeezed my shoulders. “The king is acting like a man worried for the safety of his kingdom. Be patient with him. He’s not going to harm Fleck.”
I didn’t believe that, but I wasn’t about to argue with my dad—the only man in the world who could, perhaps, persuade the king—when he was already doing everything he could for Fleck.
“Here.” He pulled something from behind his back. “I have something for you.”
It was a small box, wrapped in velvety green paper and tied with a black ribbon.
I arched a brow. “Dad,” I grinned, “did you wrap that yourself?”
“Well,” he glanced away, scratching his neck, “I had a little help from Sonya.”
My grin spread into a smile.
“Happy birthday, princess.” He smiled back.
With everything he had been dealing with, he hadn’t forgotten my birthday. I eagerly took the package from his hands, slipped the black string away and unwrapped the stiff paper.
Books.
And not just any books. Hardbacks of The Count of Monte Cristo, Pride and Prejudice, and The Lord of the Rings.
My favorite books from back home, from Earth.
“How did you…?” I gasped, flipping through the pages.
There was an inscription inside of The Count of Monte Cristo.
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