Page 81 of A Dance of Lies

But he merely gives me a dismissive once-over before bowing his head. “A pleasure, Your Majesty. Miss Moran. Pardon, but I must return to the party. My king awaits.”

Hesitant relief tempts me to sag. He didn’t recognize me; my disguise is intact.

“Do enjoy the party,” Illian says, succeeding in emptying the room—his plan, no doubt.

My father leaves me alone with Illian.

I focus on the flames before me.

“You’re shaking.”

For the first time, his presence doesn’t scare me as much as it should.

I release a trembling exhale, easing my grip on the glass. “A long performance. I’m tired.” Artlessly, I dip into a half-hearted bow, then stride away as if he’d dismissed me, knowing, too, that he won’t let me go.

“Vasalie.”

I halt before the door.

He moves behind me, my phantom with chains. “I do hope you aren’t getting attached.”

Copelan. I can’t let his name affect me here, when so much as a blink might turn Illian loose. I level my chin, hold fast to a mask of vacuity. “It was an act, meant for the performance.” But the words feel brittle on my tongue.

A soft laugh escapes him. “Oh no, Vasalie, not him. You can keep your pup for now,” he says over my shoulder. “If you manage to hang on to him, that is.”

My heart lurches, once, twice.

“The Head of Staff,” he says. “He’s been rather accommodating so far, no?”

The wordnoforms on my lips. I won’t hurt Laurent.

“A shame such kindness will be his downfall,” Illian says.

Downfall?I don’t stop to think. “Not him. Whatever it is, please, there must be another way—”

“You had to know it was coming.”

“No,” I repeat, pulse ripping through my veins. “Your Majesty, I can’t. I won’t do it.”

Illian rounds in front of me, drawing so close I have to lean back to avoid brushing against him. So close I can see his lashes, the spokes of shadow they cast onto his cheeks.

“Don’t you know,” he hisses, “that you breathe because I allow it?” My chest is tight, aching with panic. He fans a breath across my lips. “Oh, Vasalie, do not force me to leave you in the dark once more.”

Darkness, laughing.

Shadows, mocking.

Steel, cutting, digging, bruising.

My puppet strings go taut.

What a fool I was for thinking he wouldn’t send me back so soon, that I might be sacrosanct, too valuable for him to discard. But here, under his shadow, the fumes of his breath, I feel it.

You breathe because I allow it.

How right he is.

If I wish to leave here alive, if I want to enact vengeance and reclaim my life, the life my father owes me, I cannot pull against my chains.