The murmur of polite conversation hitched when Fie entered the garden on Tavin’s arm, letting the strains of flute and lyre songs well up in the gap. Her pale teal glamour-gown had been the subject of much debate between Jasimir and Khoda; it was meant to show deference to the queen, but too close to white and she’d make herself a challenger. Too intense a hue and the message would be lost. They’d settled for a muted seafoam silk with beading in blue and green to add the pattern of a fantail to the skirt.
It was all so beautiful, Fie had thought as she’d spun the glamour, recreating the work of days, weeks, months in an instant.
And with every sunrise, it was getting harder to remember that none of it was real.
But with every eye fixed on her now, it was all suddenly, horribly real. The conversation resuscitated itself with gusto after a moment, palm fan after palm fan snapping up to hide lips as the flurry of whispers rose.
The queen regarded them from a modest throng near the entrance of the pavilion, her white tiger seated beside her, tail flicking. If she was vexed that her Hawks had found no trace of Jasimir but the rumors he’d fled across the sea, she gave no sign.
“It’ll be fine,” Tavin said quietly. “Just follow my lead.”
Her grip on his arm tightened without even thinking. Irate, she started to loosen her hold—
Don’t, Niemi’s spark ordered, unbidden.
Fie near tripped over her own hem again. She’d meant to call the tooth only if she had to make conversation, but it had somehow come back to life on its own.
He thinks himself our savior now, Niemi continued.Let him.
She didn’t have a chance to argue; they’d drawn close to the queen. “Welcome, Prince Jasimir,” Rhusana said with a deep nod, then: “Lady Sakar.”
Niemi guided her into a peerless bow.
Stay down until she dismisses you, the Peacock girl whispered.Don’t look her in the eye.
“I trust you enjoyed your walk in the gardens with the prince.”
“Indeed,” she said, Niemi feeding her every word, “it was most instructive.”
From her bow, she could see the tiger’s tail lashing back and forth, like Barf’s when she spied a beetle.
“I am glad to hear it,” Rhusana said glossily. “I hope you enjoy this evening just as well.”
That’s your dismissal.Niemi lifted her back up but kept her head bent.
It’s also a threat, Fie snapped back. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Rhusana had tried to have her killed twice yesterday, she wanted to make sure Niemi Navali szo Sakar knew she might try a third time tonight. At least it would be hard to drown her in a pavilion. “Your Majesty is too gracious.”
Tavin steered her away before the queen could say another word, and Fie felt the stares of the rest of the garden on her back. His shoulders were shaking. When Fie looked up at him, startled, his lips were pressed together, cheeks flushing dark.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did I say—”
“‘Gracious’?” he said, sounding a little choked, and Fie realized he was trying to hold back laughter. “Of all the…”
Play the fool, Niemi reminded her.
“I’ve no notion what you mean,” she said smoothly.
Fie ventured a glance behind her. The queen was watching them go, her cold, pale stare on Tavin. Whether or not she realized it, though, even more of the Peacocks were watching the queen.
And not all of those stares were kind.
Jasimir caught Fie’s eye as he wove past, bearing a tray of appetizers. Somewhere beneath his glamour was a Peacock tooth on a string round his neck. Fie hadn’t wanted to risk it wearing off and revealing the true crown prince of Sabor serving stuffed mushroom caps in a servant’s uniform.
“Hold on,” Tavin said suddenly.
Jasimir stopped dead in his tracks. Then he bowed, face blank, his voice gravelly. “What does His Highness desire of this unworthy one?”
Fie’s pulse rose in her throat. Had she fouled up the glamour? But—
