She wandered back the way she’d come and spotted a few courtiers gathered in the hallways, usually near large windows or perched on cushioned benches. They were always in little groups, little tittering clusters. One group parted to reveal the other Allusian girl alone in their midst. Starbride approached her with a smile, glad to see another person who looked lost, but the woman gasped when she met Starbride’s gaze.
“Sorry,” Starbride said, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to introduce myself.” She laid a hand on her chest. “Starbride.”
“Jewelnoble.” She glanced to and fro as if afraid someone would overhear. “You didn’t startle…I mean, I’m just…I’m just waiting for someone I know.”
“Oh, I thought you might be alone.”
“No, I already know someone here.” She cast another furtive glance down the hall and then at a nearby gaggle of courtiers, male and female, who watched them with amused glances and many giggles.
Starbride couldn’t resist shaking her head. “I can’t believe these people. You’d think they’d never seen—”
“Look,” Jewelnoble said. “I have a friend coming, I told you, and she’s introducing me around.” She leaned forward. “The last thing I need is for the others to think I’m part of a…a…an ethnic consortium.”
“What?” Hurt stabbed through Starbride, surprising her, and the shock seemed to double the pain.
“Just leave me alone.” She turned away.
Starbride sneered at the presented back and lifted her chin before she walked away. Ethnic consortium, indeed! She pressed her wounded feelings down. Even her mother, who wanted her to fit in very badly, never wanted Starbride to forget she was Allusian.
She hurried past other courtiers, her spine stiff. Distance, disdain, discomfort, mocking, she saw it all in their eyes. Some of them offered interested, amorous glances, but she equated their interest to that of a zookeeper with a new specimen, looking to add a little exoticness to their love lives. She’d heard a whispered comment calling her spicy, no doubt a reference to the dishes her people preferred. Well, they could forget it. She wasn’t on anyone’s menu.
By the time she’d walked off some of her anger and took a look around, Starbride realized she stood in an unfamiliar corridor with no idea of the way back. She bit off another curse, this one aimed at herself for being so busy worrying about other people that she’d become thoroughly lost. She grabbed her ridiculous skirt and turned back the way she’d come, hoping to see something familiar.
Two hours later, she sank onto a stone staircase in defeat, certain that the palace was a trap for unsuspecting courtiers. Any minute now she’d stumble upon a skeleton in a ridiculous dress. She’d seen nothing to direct a lost person; there were no guides, not that anyone would have answered her anyway, not the busy servants or the imperious housekeepers or the stuck-up courtiers who wouldn’t talk to anyone provincial, ethnic, and possibly spicy.
Tears were only for times when they could be put to good use, or so her mother taught her; no use crying when no one was around to see it. After years of hearing that lesson, it was just easier not to weep. It never did any good anyway. Starbride plucked idly at her hair and retraced her steps in her head. Where had she gone wrong? Why did all the staircases look the same?
When she glanced down, she saw a small mountain of hair pins. “Damn.” She patted her head to discover she’d picked out nearly all of Dawnmother’s creation. The courtiers would add eccentric to her list of adjectives if she walked around with half a hairdo. Maybe she could tell them she’d run into a strong gust of wind or random coiffure thieves. They’d upgrade her from eccentric to odd.
From behind her, someone asked, “Are you lost?”
Starbride stood and whirled at the same time, almost losing her footing. A hand reached out and captured her flailing arm. “Steady.”
Starbride focused on the dusty face, a young woman’s. Her blond hair was pinned back, and her cobalt-blue eyes were smiling. She’d left a smudge on Starbride’s frothy white sleeve, courtesy of her dirty leather clothing. A guardswoman or something, judging by the rapier at her hip. Why would anyone else go about armed indoors?
“I am.” Starbride tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Steady and lost, that is.”
“Where is it you want to be?”
Starbride almost said, “Anywhere but here,” but that would have been not only childish but an invitation to scorn. “The library.” The guardswoman looked her up and down, very rude like everyone else, but this was a guardswoman, not a lady of court. “Do you mind?”
The guardswoman’s lips quirked up. “Not to worry, miss, I was just wondering if you always dressed so elegantly for the library.”
Starbride felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she held her skirt out to the sides. “This was my mother’s idea. She took every scrap of useful clothing from my luggage and gave me gowns like this instead.”
“Why?”
“She loves desserts. I think she wants me to look like a meringue as often as possible.”
The guardswoman crossed her arms, a considering look on her face. “No one can say no to dessert.”
Starbride’s laughter echoed through the stone hallway. A friendly person at last. “What’s your name?”
The guardswoman stared for a moment. Starbride squirmed under her gaze. Had she forgotten another rule? Was she not supposed to ask? Was the identity of the guardswoman supposed to be evident by her dress? “Katya.”
Starbride didn’t dare ask about the hesitation. “I’m glad to meet you.”
“And you, Miss…?”
“Starbride.” She heard the dull acceptance in her voice, the same as whenever she had to introduce herself to a Farradain.
“Ah, I thought you might be Allusian.”
Starbride gestured to her face, the Allusian features she couldn’t hide. “Yes.”
“So, if I understand it correctly, Star is the name those closest to you use, and Bride is your parents’ fondest hope for your future?”
“Nearly that, yes.”
“Bride?”
Starbride crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“Mother again?”
“How did you guess?”
“The dessert look makes more and more sense all the time.”
“Do you know the way to the library, or are we going to talk about my mother all night?”
Katya gave a wink that said she wouldn’t mind, and swept her hand out in front of her. They strode down several winding corridors, and as the first servant bowed, Starbride assumed it was for her status as a courtier. By the second or third, she thought she’d arrived at a section of the palace where the manners were much improved. When the section housekeeper bowed, his ring of keys jingling, Starbride eyed Katya with rising horror. “You’re not a guardswoman at all.”
“No.”
“I just assumed…”
“I know. Forgive me for going along with it as long as I could. You’re not going to start bowing and scraping, are you? I enjoyed our conversation on the stairs.”
“You’re the king’s…cousin.”
“No.”
Starbride’s stomach hit her shoes. Katya. Katyarianna Nar Umbriel. She’d heard the name, but had never seen a portrait. “You’re the princess.”
“Yes.”
“I rolled my eyes at you.” She could feel her mother being horrified from hundreds of miles away.
Katya coughed to hide her smile, but Starbride could see it from the side. “It was refreshing.” She stopped suddenly, and Starbride did the same. When Katya turned to face her, she began a curtsy.
“Finish that move, and I’ll have your head lopped off,” Katya said.
Starbride halted, but when she glanced up, Katya’s cheeks quivered with a suppressed grin. She pointed to a pair of enormous double doors. “The library.”
“Thank you.”
“Quite welcome, Miss Meringue. See you at the C
ourtiers Ball.” With that, she departed.
Starbride turned to the doors of the library, thinking at the last second that she should have asked for directions back to her room. With a deep breath, she tried to put the fact out of her mind that she’d treated the Princess of Farraday like a regular person and walked into the library to search for what she needed.
Every so often, she thought of Katya. Katyarianna Nar Umbriel, she reminded herself. The princess had laughed with her; more importantly, the princess hadn’t laughed at her, but someone so important wouldn’t have time for friends. Still, while researching Farradain law, Starbride also researched the royal family, just to see what the history books had to say. She couldn’t find much, given that Katya (Katyarianna Nar Umbriel, her inner voice corrected), was nineteen, just one year older than Starbride.
Why would a princess not admit her identity right away? Starbride could think of one reason to hide it: to have an amusing story to tell about the provincial, ethnic, possibly spicy courtier with the odd hair, ridiculous dress, and absurd name. No, she reminded herself, the princess had laughed with her. She was certain of it. Or was she? In that last moment, Princess Katyarianna did seem to be having a good time at Starbride’s expense.
Starbride shook her head. Those were all questions for later; now, she had work to do. She dove into her law books, losing herself in research.
Dawnmother found her sometime after midnight. “I was beginning to worry,” she whispered in the cavernous room.
Starbride yawned as she stretched. “So was I. I thought I might have to sleep here.”
“Better here than lost in the halls. I remember the way back. Come, it’s late.”
“How did you find the library?”
“Servants know how to get knowledge from other servants.”
“You must teach me one day.”
“Servants must have secrets, too. Now, to bed. The library will be there in the morning.”
Starbride should have returned to her studies the next morning, but she spent the time making a map and lingering in the halls. Gossip about Princess Katyarianna wasn’t hard to find at court, even to a person with no friends. All she had to do was be at the right time and place to listen.
Katyarianna Nar Umbriel was more than a princess. She was a legend, especially where courtiers were concerned—female courtiers, in point of fact.
A light went on in Starbride’s head. The princess had been flirting with her. A flattered feeling tingled over her scalp, but she tried to wave it away. With her reputation, Princess Katyarianna probably flirted with everyone, and the use of the familiar name Katya was a ploy, probably a well-used one.
But there had been something in the princess’s eyes when she’d apologized for not owning up to her identity, as if she enjoyed being anonymous for just a little while. Suddenly, the lothario princess cut a lonely figure, and Starbride was tempted to pity, but she warned herself not to fall for that. By the time of the Courtiers Ball, Katyarianna Nar Umbriel would have forgotten all about the new Allusian courtier.
Chapter Three: Katya
Katya had dreamt of rich brown eyes and dusky skin and a smile like a starry night. As she finished dressing in the morning, she had to shake her head to clear it. She had traitors to unearth and a court to fool. Even so, Starbride’s pure laugh lingered at the edge of her thoughts.
After grabbing a lantern, Katya toggled the latch at the top of her long mirror, and as it swung silently outward, she stepped into the secret passageway behind. She ignored the symbols carved at the junctions, so used to the dark, cramped tunnels hidden between the palace walls that she didn’t need directions.
The rest of the Order waited in her vacant summer apartment, and she nodded to them as she emerged from the secret passageway to take her place around their small table. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
Brutal leaned back in his chair, long legs crossed at the ankles under his red robe. “Can we make it quick? I have seven duels this afternoon.”
“Only seven?” Katya asked.
“When the weather turns cool, fewer people seek combat as the path to enlightenment. They turn to Ellias and Elody.”
“Ah, love as enlightenment.” Crowe scratched his chin. Katya noted the white whiskers and wondered if he’d been up all night. “It’s a nice thought. Had a slow start this morning, did you, Katya? Late night with the new courtiers in town?”
Katya gave him a level stare before glancing at the others. Maia’s head rested on her arms, her eyes shut; she could sleep with her hair on fire. Pennynail balanced one of his long knives on a gloved finger. Katya nodded toward Maia, and Pennynail sheathed the knife and flicked Maia’s ear.
Maia jerked upright in her seat. “I’m awake.”
“Of course,” Katya said. “Let’s begin. Averie won’t be joining us.”
“Not with the new courtiers here,” Brutal said. “She needs to stay near your rooms to ward off the overeager hopefuls.”
Maia shook her head and yawned. “She needn’t worry. The guards and the pyramids will stop them all, and any they miss will get jumped by Lady Hilda defending her territory.”
“I’m no one’s territory!” Katya said.
“And here we thought the traitors were the biggest threat,” Brutal said.
“Which brings us to the problem,” Crowe said loudly. He smoothed the front of his cassock. “The Shadow.”
“Did you learn anything new?” Katya asked.
Crowe shook his head. “I’m hoping a few days in the dark with no visitors will loosen his mind a bit. His control is better than we thought.”
Brutal cracked his knuckles. “Maybe he’d like to go a few rounds.”
“The Order of Vestra has never tortured anyone, Brother Brutal.” Crowe gave Brutal a steely look with his slate gray eyes.
“Never?” Maia asked.
Crowe turned his hard stare on her, and she dropped her gaze to the table. She had the nerve to ask questions, but her follow-through needed help.
“Regardless of what others have done, we’re not going to torture anyone,” Katya said. “Torture only gets you what you want to hear, whether it’s true or not. But we do need a next step.”
For a moment, they were all as silent as Pennynail. Crowe finally shrugged. “Ask around with the usual contacts. We need to figure something out before the crown prince and princess’s visit, before the Waltz.”
Katya resisted the urge to reach under her tunic and fidget with her pyramid necklace. “This will be Brom’s first time. You’ll have to craft a necklace for her, Crowe.”
He cleared his throat. “Already done.” After a moment, she felt a light touch and looked up to meet his softened gaze. “Your sister-in-law knew what she was getting into before her marriage, Katya.”
“I know, but the Waltz is…” Katya trailed off, pressing her lips together. They couldn’t understand. She didn’t fully understand, and she’d done it once, a year before her brother had married. She’d had to keep the Fiend Yanchasa the Mighty at bay, and she barely remembered it. “The people have mostly forgotten Yanchasa. It’s…difficult to prepare someone.”
Brutal shrugged. “People have lost their sense of fear. You said it yourself, some things can’t be explained. From what you’ve told us, Brom won’t even remember the Waltz after it’s over.”
Across the table, Maia rubbed her arms as if chilled. “But those watching won’t forget. Too bad we can’t let Yanchasa loose. One look at it and no one would claim our family uses the legend to keep the throne.”
“That would only work if we wanted everyone in the kingdom to die,” Crowe said. “Summoning Yanchasa killed the first king of Farraday and nearly destroyed his entire army.”
“I know,” Maia said “That’s why I said we can’t.”
“Peace.” Katya rubbed the bridge of her nose. “The people know there’s a ritual, and that’s all they need to know. The last thing we need is for traitors to find out the details o
f the Waltz.” She touched the fabric covering her necklace. “Or the Aspect. Now, ideas on how to get more information on this particular group?”
“I’ll check the other chapterhouses,” Brutal said.
“Good,” Katya said. “Pennynail, have your contacts turned up anything?”
He pointed to Crowe, who shook his head. “Whoever’s leading this group is buried too deeply for our contacts. The best we can hope for is rumor or gossip to help us understand what they want.”
“We don’t want to understand them,” Katya said. “We want to eradicate them.”
Crowe shook his head. “If we know what they want, Highness, we can more easily find them.”
“They want to kill my family.”
“Mine, too,” Maia said. Katya nodded to her.
“When you are working as the leader of the Order of Vestra, they are not your family,” Crowe said, “they are the royal family.”
“I know,” Katya and Maia said at the same time.
“Then remember, anger is dangerous,” Crowe said. Katya resisted the urge to grasp her necklace again. Anger could lead to rage, which would bring on the Aspect, and that could kill them all.
Katya licked her lips. “Maia, you asking questions of the courtiers will be less noticeable than me asking. Eavesdropping on hallway gossip while pretending to be an idle idiot suits me best.”
“Pennynail and I will call in some old favors,” Crowe said.
“Let’s get to it.” They all stood to go to their respective tasks. Her curiosity piqued, Katya lingered until everyone had left but Crowe. “What are these favors you and Pennynail did that you can now call in?”
“Ask and ask and ask again, but I shall never tell.”
“I’m not asking about his identity. I’m just asking what you two do together.”
The Pyramid Waltz Page 3