Page 6 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Hostile,” he noted. “I’m here to keep an eye on you.”

“And what have I done to warrant scrutiny?”

He drew near enough that he loomed over her, but Lorelei held her ground. This close, she could smell liquor on his breath. It made her skin crawl with half-remembered dread. Alcohol and men like Johann never mixed well. It emboldened them.

Beneath his spectacles, his eyes were a flat, glacial blue. “You’re here.”

She understood very clearly what he left unsaid:And you shouldn’t be, filthy Yeva. Tamping down her anger as best she could, Lorelei said, “By His Majesty’s invitation.”

A flicker of annoyance passed over his face. “An oversight on his part. Wilhelm has always had the unfortunate tendency to see the best in others.”

Lorelei supposed he would know. He and the rest of the expeditioncrew—theRuhigburg Five, as they were known aroundcampus—hadspent their childhood summers together, running wild in these very halls. They had all the squabbles and half-buried resentments real siblingsdid. All of them were in their mid-twenties, but she’d come to understand Johann had taken on the role of the oldest: a bully or a protector, depending on his mood.

No good would come from provoking him. But she’d been worked into too much of a temper to stop herself. “How fortunate he is to have such a well-trained guard dog.”

His eyes grew flinty as he registered her mockery. “I know how you intend to repay his hospitality.”

“And how is that?” she hissed.

He gave her an unkind smile of his own. That was answer enough.

As if on instinct, her gaze dropped to the chain around his neck. From it hung a roggenwolf’s fang cast in silver: the symbol of a now-defunct holy order known as the Hounds. They’d gotten their start hundreds of years ago, hunting dangerous wildeleute (or demons, as they called them) with blessed silver. But a few decades back, they’d aimed to cleanse Herzin of “vermin”: people likeLorelei—andpeople like Sylvia, whose aberrant religious practices corrupted the spiritual purity of their territory. When Johann took power from his father, she did not imagine it would take them long to return.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, Kaskel. I’ve seen the extent of your scheming, grasping ambition.” He bent down and murmured, “I look forward to seeing it thwarted tonight.”

With that, he walked away.

Lorelei could only watch him go with impotent rage boiling within her. Nothing about his behavior surprised her. She’d once checked out Johann’s first book from thelibrary—andpromptly returned it after reading the phrase “those from a superior branch of humanity are morphologically better adapted for channeling aether” halfway down the first page.

Since then, she’d never taken him seriously as a scholar. Contrary to the ridiculous taxa of humanity he and his ilk had developed, Yevani could use magic.

The first time Lorelei had done it, her father had struck her. It was the very first time he’d doneso—andthe last. For a moment, she’donly been able to stare up at him with her ears ringing. He gazed back at her in horror, pale and trembling. When he’d finished apologizing and dried both of their tears, he knelt at her feet and cradled her face in his hands.

You must never do that, he said,where any of them can see. They believe us powerless. It upsets them to see proof otherwise. Do you understand?

Even then, she did. Now she only wondered if her obedience had cost Aaron his life.

The way the candles’ flames refracted through the crystal chandeliers gave the whole room the impression of being underwater. From her vantage point, she could see all the hollow splendor laid out before her. Partygoers chilled their drinks with an absent touch and wicked sweat from their brows with a thoughtless flick of their fingers. Beads of ice glittered cold as stars on the hems of their jackets, and mist billowed around the trains of their gowns. Magic truly meant nothing to these people.

Past the glittery whirl of skirts and tailcoats, Lorelei spied Ziegler speaking with Sylvia’s mother, Anja von Wolff. Unlike her daughter, the duchess was a slip of a woman: frail-boned, hollow-eyed, and deathly pale. There was no resemblance between them but the determined set of their jaws; it seemed Sylvia had not inherited the bone white of her hair from her mother.

What business could they possibly have with each other? Ziegler often advised politicians on matters of land conservation and colonization, of which she was a strong and vocal opponent, but Anja von Wolff was known for her military strategy, not her curious mind.

Lorelei’s curiosity outweighed her self-preservation enough to watch. As theyspoke—orperhapsargued—Anjajabbed a finger at Ziegler. Despite herself, Lorelei felt a twinge of sympathy at how familiar that gesture was. Sylvia had inherited something from her mother, after all.

Her message clearly delivered, Anja turned on her heel and slipped into the crowds. Ziegler stood dumbfounded for a moment. Then, as if Lorelei had called her name, she met her gaze from across the room.Her surprise melted into something entirely unreadable. After a moment, she looked pointedly away, as if they were no more than strangers.

Before disappointment could truly sink in, tinkling laughter sounded from beside her. “Poor Lori. You’re like a spaniel that’s still surprised when it’s kicked.”

Heike van der Kaas: the expedition’s astronomer, the cosseted heiress of the seaside province of Sorvig, and widely rumored to be the most beautiful woman in Brunnestaad. When confronted with her deep-red hair and striking green eyes, it was difficult to dispute. Lorelei, however, had never been able to look past her petty cruelty.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“There’s no need to be strong for my sake.” Heike fluttered an ivory-boned fan in front of her face. “If Ziegler’s upset with you, that doesn’t bode well for the announcement, does it?”

“What does it matter to me?” Lorelei asked coolly. “It was never a competition.”

Not one she ever expected to win, at any rate.