Queen Hydra smiles gently. ‘First lesson. Never take your eyes off your opponent.’
34
When the doors to the Aquatori Queen’s chambers shut behind me several hours later, I lean against them and exhale right down to the very bottom of my lungs.
Rubbing my scar, I seek comfort in the sliver of darkness behind my eyelids.
Eyes.
They are everywhere. Some watch you behind golden fans, whisper about you behind golden gloves, are etched with needle and ink on to the napes of necks wreathed in golden chains. Some look like home. Some gleam like amber stone. Some you could drown in, as blue as deep water. Others are black like ravens’ wings. Greener than spring leaves. Grey as storm clouds and sea mist. And some are steeped in enchantments, carved from solid gold.
Suddenly there is a sharp gust of wind, followed by a voice. ‘Hello, little dove.’
Thoughts scatter and spill out over the top of my head.
King Balen stands barely more than a foot away from me, his own eyes dark pits cut into the centre of his skull. They bore into me, unblinking.
My words emerge flimsy and weak. ‘Your Majesty. You startled me.’
The Ventalla King tosses one side of his cloak over his shoulder and extends his arm towards me. Hesitantly, I take it. A cool breeze accompanies us as we walk.
‘It seems like yesterday I was travelling to Valburn for your first public appearance, and now here you are, one victory away from the Aquatori throne. Remind me, sweet one,’ he says, ‘how does it feel to stand on the brink of destiny?’
King Balen’s crown glimmers in the light from the flickering torches, a wreath of golden feathers atop his straight black hair.
‘I suppose … a little daunting?’ My tone is disjointed, my tongue feels too big for my mouth. Everything about this man makes me nervous.
‘I confess I, too, was daunted by the prospect,’ says King Balen silkily. ‘But one should not fear the future, one must seize it. Those were the very words my father spoke to me before I won my throne. Perhaps they may be of some comfort to you as you cross the bridge into the unknown.’
I plaster on the most gracious smile I can muster, stretching the muscles in my cheeks so taut I worry they might snap. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’
We come to a stop outside a large antechamber. A serf rounds the corner ahead of us, starts, turns on his heel and scurries back the way he came.
‘I will leave you now,’ King Balen says, to my relief. ‘Although I do hope to see you at the ball this evening.’
‘Anotherball?’ I’m almost starting to miss my days of confinement. Then I clear my throat, embarrassed. ‘I mean, I think I might retire early tonight, Your Majesty. I haven’t been sleeping so well of late.’
It’s true. Every night when I close my eyes, the dreams are waiting.
Amusement languishes in the creases next to King Balen’s mouth. ‘A pity, for my nephew seemsverytaken with you. Would you really deprive him of your company?’
I flush. ‘I’m sure Prince Haldyn never wants for a dance partner, Your Majesty.’
King Balen chuckles lightly, leaning down to press a cold kiss to the scar on the back of my hand, just like he did at Harglade Hall. ‘Forgive me, little dove. Only I saidmy nephew. I never said which one.’
A heartbeat – that’s all I get before I manage to smooth my features into a politely perplexed expression, but not before the king catches the flicker of unfiltered shock that passes across my face.
His soft laughter continues to echo long after he disappears down the passageway.
‘There you are,’ says Flint as I join him by the edge of the dance floor an hour later.
I summon a smile. ‘Here I am.’
My brother wears a thick magenta doublet and slim-fitting trousers. The golden flecks in his deep-brown eyes are brought out by a thin slick of gold lining his eyelids. Sheen stands sour-faced and silent beside him, and I find myself wondering if he picks out Flint’s clothes just as Spinnerdoes mine. Tonight she’s selected a pale-blue number that shimmers like ice on water whenever it catches the light.
‘How was it with Queen Hydra?’ Flint asks.
‘Fine. Good. How was Aunt Yvainne?’
