“I can hear you,” Galen said.
“We know,” Wren said. “You don’t scare us.”
That had him glancing back, lip curled. “I don’t like you.”
“Feeling’s mutual. Did you know you clomp when you walk? Try walking on your toes. You’ll make less noise.”
He growled at her. If they resorted to grappling, I’d put my coins on Wren.
Galen paused at a narrow, rounded door and opened it. Music flowed gently out from it.
It was a large rectangular room I hadn’t yet seen, and it was nearly as large as the throne room. The ceilings were high and vaulted and hung with chandeliers crowned with what must have been thousands of candles. One long wall was covered in mirrored glass, and the facing wall with tall windows draped with shimmering silver fabric, so that light shone and reflected and bounced. The prince had even tried to chase away the darkness outside; doors were open to the stone courtyard, and the party spilled outside beneath torches and lanterns. For guests who wanted to make an entrance, one of the shorter walls was taken up by a wide stone staircase that swept dramatically down from an upper floor and was flanked by urns of flowers. Players held court on the opposite end, plucking a delicate tune on their instruments.
The party was lousy with wealthy strongholders, not the variety I usually interacted with. We knew market sellers and farmers and builders whose faces and hands were lined and freckled by work and wind. These people had pale skin and soft hands and wore their fineries—rich fabrics, golden jewelry, and feathers woven into their hair. The men wore shoes that curled up at the end, and the sleeves of the women’s dresses were wide and long enough at the cuffs to hide a body. Their hems swept the floor as they moved about the room, gazing at the luxuries and whispering about the prince.
“So much to take,” I murmured. “And so much bother if we did it.”
“Agreed. Where’s the prince?”
“Probably wants to make a grand entrance.” It was his celebration, after all. “Have you seen Luna? She didn’t come last night.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen her.” And the furrow between her brows said she didn’t like it, either. “Maybe she found the practitioner.”
I almost told her about the pinch I’d felt yesterday, but I didn’t want to worry her, especially since I’d seen no sign of Aether.
“There’ve been other times she’s disappeared,” Wren added.
“I know. But this isn’t like other times. And don’t tell me to be patient.”
“You?” She snorted. “Wouldn’t be worth the breath.”
“I think I dreamed about my mother,” I said. My voice was quiet, but the words still burst out of me like I’d been holding them in, waiting for a chance to release them.
Wren was quiet. “For good or ill?”
“I think she was murdered before I came here.”
She reached out, squeezed my hand. “That would explain why your father was alone.”
“Yeah.”
“You know who? Or why?”
“No.”
“Do you want to find out?” I knew she was making an offer, agreeing to join me on that quest, if that’s what I wanted. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”
“Do that,” she said, and then slipped her hand away. “Prepare yourself to be irritated,” she said, and gestured toward the other side of the room.
The Lady moved toward us in a long dress and overrobe the color of raspberries. Her hair was up and knotted, and a golden necklace of red cabochons, each as big as a grape, was draped across her chest above a low bodice. She flowed toward us, her sleeves trailing behind her, chin lifted in aristocratic arrogance.
It had only been a few days since I’d been to the manor, and the sight of her here was jarring. This was the prince’s home, so far unpoisoned by her greed. I didn’t want her intrusion. I wanted it clean of her.
“I’ll get you the drink you’ll need shortly,” Wren murmured, slipping away before the Lady reached us.
When she did, she looked me up and down like a shepherdess assessing her stock. “You look very presentable.”
