“I feel these are not the most romantic syllables,” he said. “Roo-pert.”
“Ruperrrrrt,” she purred into his ear. “Maybe more like that.”
“No.”
They both laughed now.
“Too bad, I kind of like it,” she said. “But Sebastian can still be your bedroom name.”
“Ohh…something to look forward to.”
“There will be a lot to look forward to. I’m not afraid.”
“I don’t quite believe you.”
She tilted her head to the side so her hair fell into her right eye. “You think I’d lie to you?”
“I think you’d lie to yourself. I would if I could.” He pushed her hair back again, his hand lingering to graze her cheek. “But I suppose if we can summon three-quarters of our confidence, we can work with that.”
Marlis never imagined she would cross the threshold of this house again, but here she was, coming home to stay just a month after the battle. She wasn’t sure she liked the feeling. And yet, when Brunner, who was now serving as the mayor, suggested she reclaim the home she had grown up in, she couldn’t say no.
She walked upstairs and looked at her favorite painting, of the children playing in a square of sunshine on the floor while their mother tended the hearth. Their smiles were still real after three hundred years.
Three hundred years later, and we’re both still here.
She put her things down in one of the guest bedrooms. Redecorating was certainly in order. She didn’t want to spend time in her bedroom, or her father’s, when they looked the same as they did when Father was alive.
The new furnishings would be modest, though. Times were lean. Marlis rather enjoyed lean times, as long as no one starved, and she would do her best to that end. The prospect of work was exciting. But this house…
Now that she was standing in it, it seemed so big just for her and the servants. She’d offered that Nan and Sigi could live with her, but they had decided to follow Thea and Sebastian to Irminau.
You won’t even have time to be lonely, Governor Horn, she thought, giving her reflection a smile. It had a nice ring.
Marlis’s inauguration was the next day, under a clear blue sky. She had seen many springs, but never a spring like this, where the flowers were so brilliant and the trees turning such a vivid green. Every color in the rainbow was two shades brighter now. As she gave her oaths and King Rupert made the official appointment, while the people cheered for her and waved the Urobrunian flag, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was an impostor, that this was all a mistake.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Sebastian—he was still Sebastian in her head—told her later at the official ball, after they shared one of the first dances and picked up glasses of champagne. “I feel like that every day. And I still have so much to learn. For all I’ve done in my life, I’m certainly no elder statesman with years and years of experience.”
“I feel as if I’m just a figurehead,” Marlis said. “The people wouldn’t accept a female governor, and certainly not my age, if I hadn’t proven my power and age as Norn. I know they’re going to expect Brunner is making all the actual decisions.”
“I’m sure you’ll prove them—”
One of the Urobrunian delegates interrupted excitedly. “Your Majesty, I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done over these past weeks.” He shook Sebastian’s hand.
“Well, we’ll see how that goes. Thank you.”
“Thank you. Congratulations, Governor Horn.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope we get a chance to talk at some point about public health. In my district…”
Sebastian surreptitiously rubbed his hands once the man left. “I thought I had a strong handshake, but they’re proving me wrong. Anyway, as I was saying. Yes, I was going to tell you that I think one of the hardest parts for me has been accepting how much I don’t know. This might be hard for you, too. In some ways, right now you are a figurehead. I appointed you governor because I know Urobrun will also appreciate that comforting combination of familiarity and freshness. But, I also know you’ll pour your soul into this country.”
He somehow managed to get out that entire speech before two of their generals and their wives approached for more congratulations.
I certainly will pour out my soul, she thought, but I wonder how much it will be appreciated. With the wyrdsong, with the shield of her diminished emotions, she had possessed more confidence. Sometimes this felt hopeless. Urobrun didn’t want to be led by a severe young woman, and they would forget this brief war and the Norns in no time at all. Anything she did accomplish would be credited to Brunner or Sebastian or whoever else happened to be at hand. She knew how these things worked.
Freddy caught her eye across the room. She had barely seen him since the battle; he had gone to visit his parents as she was swept into the whirl of political negotiations over Urobrun’s autonomy. He had sent a postcard while he was gone with a picture of her doing the revolutionary salute and the message: “Ha-ha, you’re even famous (infamous?) out in the woods.” The dye had washed out of his hair; it was silver again now.
“Governor Horn,” Freddy said. “How does that feel?”
“Getting what you want might not be as good as it sounds, but people are aching for a change, so I think I will have less old-guard sentiment to battle with at least.”
“The battles will come later, I’m sure.”
“Such an optimist.”
“You’ll enjoy it, won’t you? You can’t tell me you hate conflict, quick as you are to pick a fight.”
“I don’t pick fights. You’re picking a fight.” But she could tell he was teasing. She didn’t mind it as she once had.
She glanced at the couples moving around the dance floor in an energetic newer dance. The older officials were frowning on the sidelines. “Are you going to Irminau, then, with Thea and Nan?”
“I suppose it depends on who might offer me a job.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ll give you first crack for old times’ sake.”
“Or is it just because Sebastian stole your girlfriend?”
“How kind of you to remind me.”
“I am already thinking I need to conduct a survey of the government-subsidized farms surrounding the city. Hunger was a problem this winter; it will only get worse if we don’t make sure we’re maximizing our usage of those lands. I could have you go around and make a report on that.”
“I see. I wanted to work with plants and so…farm inspector. That’s very glamorous. I thought maybe you’d just hire me as your gardener.”
“You really don’t know how to be a gardener.”
“How hard can it be?”
“There are century-old prize rosebushes in this yard, so I’d rather not find out.”
“All right. If you want to send me on the road…I thought you might want some human company, but I guess you’ll just have to look after my cat.”
“Oh well. Maybe I can find you something here.” Marlis looked at him sideways. “Still, you can’t be my gardener. For heaven’s sake.”
While Thea was, theoretically, Sebastian’s date, she still could hardly get near him. This was his first trip back to Urobrun since the coronation, and the officials were falling over themselves to speak to him. Of course, she was certainly having more fun, gossiping with Nan and Sigi and eating “Austerity Cake.” Marlis had instructed the servers to be sure everyone knew she was not serving indulgent food at her inauguration while people were hungry.
“Why didn’t your mother come?” Nan asked.
“She said it sounded like too much.” Thea was disappointed when Mother refused the invitation, but she understood.
Right around midnight, Sebastian managed to break away and come over to them. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Can you do that?” Thea asked.
“I’m the king, I can do whatever I want.”
“So far that has been the opposite of true.�
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“Ooh! I definitely vote for sneaking out,” Sigi said. She’d been cross all night because her father had somehow gotten invited to the party, apparently by a few politicians who had commissioned paintings from him, and he was drinking a lot and being very loud. “Is there an after-party? With better music?”
“There sure is.”
They grabbed Freddy and Marlis and piled into a car together for a short jaunt to Lampenlight. The lights were still dim thanks to the electricity restrictions, but the streets were absolutely packed with people celebrating. Thea laughed. “Don’t tell me: You’re putting us to work as waitresses again?”
“The guys rented out Café Scorpio tonight,” Sebastian said. “That is, the ones who aren’t fancy enough to go to the ball.”
“Lucky them,” Sigi said.
“The ball wasn’t that bad,” Nan said. “Marlis, was the Austerity Cake something you and I used to make? It tasted so familiar.”
“I found the recipe in the books! We made it during some terrible wheat famine. It has potato in it.”
Inside the dim, smoky club, the band was hopping and Ina Brand was dancing on one of the tables. One of the men was holding her snake. Bottles of wine and trays of food covered every table so the waitresses could dance with the men instead of serving. Thea saw her mother in the corner talking to Walter, the pianist. When she saw Thea, she raised a glass of champagne in greeting.
A deep pang shot through Thea at the thought of leaving this city, leaving Lampenlight. But she had seen Urobrun now, the mountains and forests that her ancestors had known. Maybe she would see something like Lampenlight grow up in Irminau, and she would be one of those glamorous patrons she used to serve.
“Thea!” Hedda ran up and gave her a hug. “You lucky thing! I can’t believe you never told us you were dating the prince. Are you going to be the queen? Do you need ladies-in-waiting?”
“Oh goodness. That’s a horrifying thought. Do people still even have ladies-in-waiting?”
“Well, they must have a lady’s maid.”
Hedda’s tone was joking, but Thea understood the real fears that came with working as a waitress. Thea glanced at Sebastian. He was still getting mobbed with congratulations, but at least he’d been able to sit down with a glass of wine. “It’s definitely premature for me to hire a lady’s maid, but I won’t forget about you.”
“Then again, there are about a hundred handsome men in here,” Hedda said. “Maybe I’ll beat you to it. Your success inspires me.”
“Please do. I’d love it if you came to Irminau.”
She slipped away from Hedda and joined her mother. “Mother! You said going out would be ‘too much.’”
Mother smiled. “I wouldn’t fit in with all those government luminaries, but this night is a nice way to remember the city before we go,” she said.
Thea knew her Mother struggled with leaving the home she had shared with Thea’s father, but at least they would stay together, and they still had family who had never left Irminau. Thea was eager to meet her cousins.
Thea danced with Freddy, who was a terrible dancer, and she was a very popular partner with all of Sebastian’s men who had lost a hand or arm—or two in the case of Max and a few others—and were now adapting to new prosthetics themselves. They weren’t so nervous with her. Meanwhile, I had to face losing my hand without any company in my misery, she thought a bit grumpily.
Except, of course, Sebastian. Not that he had ever shown much misery. But that was what she loved about him.
When she was tired and a bit tipsy, she dropped her head on Sebastian’s shoulder and watched her friends. Hedda flirting shamelessly, Mother making new friends in the crowd, Freddy and Marlis stepping on each other’s feet, Sigi and Nan kicking their heels. The future was, perhaps, no more certain than it had ever been, but in this moment, she was exactly where she wanted to be.
First, to Su Mon Han, who should have been in the acknowledgments of Dark Metropolis. Never write your acknowledgments at the last minute! She gave me an amazing critique and some wonderful ideas for the first book between rounds of edits when I was feeling tired and burned out, and helped me feel energized and excited again. Some of these ideas have bled through into this book as well. Arigatou, Su-chan, I know how busy you are!
I always have to thank my partner, Dade Bell, but especially with this book. How do I write battle scenes? I go to Dade and say, “I need X and Y to happen, HELP,” and he plans out the whole thing complete with diagrams and maps. He is amazing and I don’t know how I could have done this book without him.
To my editor, Tracey Keevan, for editorial notes that are wonderfully detailed and smart, but not intimidating. It’s been such a pleasure working with you. And to the whole team at Hyperion, for beautiful covers, marketing, copyedits, and everything else you do.
I did a lot of research for this book, much of it never used, some of it most definitely applied, and I appreciate everyone around the Internet and in real life who answered a question for me.
And as always, to readers and fans, from the kid who picks up my book at the library to the book bloggers who keep my chin up on a bad day. I can never thank all of you enough for choosing my stories out of all the books in the world.
JACLYN DOLAMORE spent her childhood reading as many books as she could lug home from the library and playing elaborate games of pretend. She has a passion for history, thrift stores, vintage dresses, drawing, and local food. She lives with her partner, Dade, and three weird cats in a Victorian house in western Maryland. Glittering Shadows is her fifth novel. Visit her online at www.jaclyndolamore.com.
Table of Contents
Also by Jaclyn Dolamore
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
Fifty-two
Fifty-three
Fifty-four
Fifty-five
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Sixty
Sixty-one
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Sixty-seven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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