Stefan’s eyes narrow. “I am sure he intends to keep the alliance just as much as your father intends to.” He sighs. “But you must know how it is. A king makes a decree and lives rise or fall accordingly, with little thought to the individual hopes and futures that are altered or extinguished in its wake. Surely you can understand that.”
I do understand, in so many ways. But I don’t know what to say to him. “I’m . . . tired,” I manage. “I would like to finish my tea in peace. And I won’t remove the mask.”
He stares at me a moment longer—almost as though he’s disappointed—before nodding and saying, “We shall have many more teas together,” and he stands and heads for the door. “A lifetime’s worth, unfortunately.”
When I’m sure he’s gone, I walk as fast as I can back to my chambers without attracting curious stares from the servants. Once my door is firmly shut behind me, I remove Wilha’s mask and take a few deep breaths.
It’s time I started facing up to my situation. I am not a princess and never will be. And neither am I certain that Wilha will ever return to the castle. If I stay here much longer my neck is likely to end up in a Kyrenican noose. I’ll wait until tonight after everyone has retired, and then I’m leaving. I’ve done the best I can for the Andewyns—so much better than they have ever done for me. Let the Strassburgs—and the world—make of the Masked Princess’s disappearance what they will.
I refuse to sacrifice my life for a sister I’ve never known.
CHAPTER 39
WILHA
All my life, I have considered the Opal Palace my home. Yet as I watch the people in the Sleeping Dragon dance and clap while a few men near the fireplace play lutes, I wonder if I have been mistaken all these years.
James approaches the table where Kyra and I sit. “Would you care to dance?”
I start to protest but Kyra says, “She’d love to,” and nudges me with her elbow until I stand up.
“I am not a very good dancer.” This is only a half truth. I’m a decent dancer, when I dance a waltz or another formal dance. But the random spinning and whirling the Kyrenican townspeople seem to favor is foreign to me.
“That’s all right,” he says, grinning, “neither am I.”
He leads me out onto the floor. He spins me one way, then another, and I struggle to keep up with him. He’s a much better dancer than he let on. Another song starts up, and we keep going. Sweat springs to my temples and my heart beats in time to the music. We spin, we clap, we whirl; faster and faster, until I am dizzy with laughter.
And as I look at James’s smiling face I realize this is what I longed for, all those dark nights when I gazed into the mirror, wondering what was so wrong with me. This is the one thing men value more than jewels and gold.
This is freedom.
I am alone in a foreign city. No royal secretaries to command my every move. No kings to decide my fate. For the first time ever, I am the master of my own destiny.
“Are you free to take a walk with me later?” James says, panting, as the song comes to an end.
“Yes, I am free,” I answer
They are the truest, most beautiful words I have ever spoken.
“I have a few more orders to fill,” James says as we walk back to the bar, “but then I’m sure Victor would let me slip outside for a moment to get some fresh air. Would you like that?” I nod, and he offers me his hand. “Come on. Why don’t you help me, the work will go quicker that way.”
He fills several goblets of ale and places them on a tray. “Can you take this upstairs to the room at the end of the hall? There are a company of merchants staying there tonight.”
I take the tray and walk slowly up the stairs, the goblets wobbling precariously. When I reach the end of the hall I hear a voice from behind the door. “Bit of luck, wasn’t it? Getting chased from the castle. It’s given me more time.”
“How many men have you recruited?”
I freeze, because I recognize that voice.
It belongs to Garwyn.
“More than enough. Don’t you think, Anton?”
I nearly drop the tray when I hear Anton answer, “Yes, we’ll be ready. But Moran here says there’s also a girl you’re supposed to be searching for. Who is it?”
“A Galandrian, and no one for you to be concerned about,” Garwyn snaps.
At that, my breath catches, and I grip the tray tightly to keep it from shaking. Quietly, I press my ear to the door.
“She’s got them opals she stole,” Moran is saying. “Wonder what they’re worth.”
My eyes stray down the hall to my own room, where those exact opals are still hidden in Elara’s satchel, under my bed.
“Forget the jewels,” Garwyn says. “We have our orders.” He lowers his voice then, so I cannot hear what he says, and I lean against the wall for support.
I don’t understand everything I have just heard, but if Moran is the one hiring Kyrenicans, perhaps I have been wrong this whole time. Perhaps Anton and Jaromil are not mixed up with some sort of illegal trading at all. Did Moran hire them to find me?
Either way, if they know about the stolen opals it must only be because Elara told them. Is that what has really been going on inside the castle? While privately the Strassburgs parade Elara out on the balcony, pretending to be me—have King Ezebo and Crown Prince Stefan quietly ordered my guards to hire men, instructing them to search the city and bring me back to the castle in time for the masquerade, like I am a wayward child who does not wish to go to her own party?
And once I am brought back to the castle, will I face a prince happy to see me safely returned? Or a man enraged that his future bride dared to run away from him in the first place?
Quietly, I bend down and place the tray by the door. I walk back toward my own room, torn between grabbing the satchel and declaring myself to Garwyn, or locking my door and hiding the rest of the night.
“Willie?” James appears beside me. He frowns and touches my cheek. “You look pale. Perhaps we should walk another night?”
I lean back against the wall. “I like you, James.” I’m not sure if this is a good-bye. I’m not sure of anything right now.
“I really like you too, Willie.” He takes my hands in his. “I like you quite a bit, in fact.” He leans forward, until mere inches separate us.
At the end of the hall, the door opens and Garwyn, Moran, and Anton exit the room. By the time they pass us, James is kissing me, and I hear Garwyn’s whispered voice: “Who is that girl?”
“The barman’s nosy girlfriend,” Anton replies. “And a Kyrenican, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
They start down the stairs, and as James and I break apart I sag against the door, grateful that all they saw was a Kyrenican couple stealing a quiet moment together.
And whether I let James kiss me because I wanted him to, or because I did not want Garwyn to find me, I don’t ask myself.
CHAPTER 40
ELARA
After my appearance on the balcony again, I see Stefan briefly. We attend a strange engagement ceremony in front of Ezebo and his advisors where Stefan places a thick bracelet made of pearls and rubies around my wrist.
“That’s very lovely,” I say quietly.
“You think so?” he whispers. “I find it to be quite hideous myself. It belonged to my aunt Rayna. She too was thought to be fearful and odd,” he replies, and I have to fight the urge to rip off the bracelet and hurl it back at him.