Page 34 of Wicked Endeavors

She’d had a person like that once. And Bas had taken her away.

“Hey.” Teo squeezed her hand briefly, until she met his gaze. “I hope it’s not too forward of me to say, but… I care about you, too, you know?”

“My lord, we’ve only just met.”

“Don’t start the ‘my lord’ stuff now.” Teo leaned back against his pillows with a smile. “I don’t say that to embarrass you. I’ve just… liked getting to know you and working alongside you. You’re intelligent, witty, and empathetic in a way that so many people at court have forgotten to be. I think House Vinyet did the right thing by raising you away from all that. You’ve already made me want to be a more caring version of myself.”

Marisol had no idea what to do with that or where to start with his impression of her fake identity. She refilled his glass just to have something to do with her hands. “Tell me more about court. Is it truly so miserable?”

Teo’s eyes drooped as he described the “nest of vipers” that was the royal court, where sycophants and puppet masters thrived, linking themselves through chains of bargains to gain power and influence. Marisol had been allowed to visit court only once, and she’d quickly lost sight of the Seawards in the crowd. Courtiers had swarmed her, the crown’s ward ripe for manipulation, and she’d been overwhelmed by their interest. Their promises. Their sugar-spun compliments, hiding the bitterness underneath.

The ones who had asked her for reasonable favors had been dismissed from court. The ones who had asked her for unreasonable ones had been exiled. And she had been barred from royal events until she was old enough to be discerning.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Marisol passed Teo his glass of water and stood. “I’ll give you and Bas some privacy.” She tried to swallow her next words, but they fell from her lips anyway, quiet and far too earnest. “I’m… I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Thanks,” Teo said gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She didn’t know how many tomorrows he had left before she went through with her plan—and she would, she had to, she would—but she knew this much: “Yes, you will.”

HURRICANES WERE A RARE THING IN COVENTRY. THE fierce storms didn’t batter the Alban Peninsula the way they did the island of Esquivel, where, according to Bas, they could spend months preparing for the destruction a tempest left in its wake. However, the Coronet still coincided with the rainy season, and the summer storm that rolled in a week after the hunt showed no signs of stopping. Wind howled and cloudbursts pounded the tiled rooftops every day until Marisol received a letter from Magister Ozalla stating that, due to the hunt being cut short so the prince could convalesce, House Vida was being given a second event in the form of a ball.

A ball that would still take place at the main manor.

Marisol couldn’t have planned it better if she’d tried.

Teo was in high spirits as they approached House Vida beneath their shared umbrella. His injury had healed nicely, and he didn’t so much as flinch as they walked arm in arm up the dirt path to House Vida. Behind them, Bas held an umbrella of his own. They hadn’t spoken since that day in the Hinterlands, but she had ensured that it was not a hostile silence. It was the calm after a ceasefire, a lowering of swords both fragile and cautious. She had smiled at him in the carriage, and his shoulders had lost some of their tension as he looked out the window as usual.

Her hatred was a festering wound that she would nurse in silence until the time was right.

“I think this is my favorite one so far,” Teo continued, gesturing toward House Vida. The picture that Gaspar had shown her didn’t do it justice. Raindrops slid through the leaves of the tree in its center, and the flower shrubs that surrounded the terrace and floating staircase sagged in the storm. She could see chandeliers and dancing guests through the floor-to-ceiling windows, could hear the band playing a spirited waltz. “This isn’t a house. It’s a work of art.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” Marisol said as they stepped onto the terrace. Teo transferred his umbrella to a stand that seemed to have been erected for that purpose, judging by the number of umbrellas already dripping on it. “Especially if I actually find something useful here. Are you all right to keep them occupied?”

“Just start talking about the hole in your side,” said Bas, holding the door open for them. “I’m sure they’ll find that very distracting.”

Teo made a face at him. “It’s healed. And there are better distractions!”

The inside of House Vida was no less lavish than the outside, halls decorated with blooming flowers no matter how out of season they were. Deep violet morning glories with hot pink centers, drooping orange poppies wide open around small yellow seeds, cobalt bluebells with curtsying petal tips. Their scents were mild enough not to compete with one another, but the ballroom looked like the center clearing of an indoor garden, bougainvillea growing between the windows in shades of magenta and scarlet. Marisol was glad she’d gone with a simple lavender gown with black lacing, because she couldn’t hope to compete with such beauty.

A string quartet played the music that couples were waltzing to. Two long tables were laden with food and drink that were easy to walk with. Dark rain flowed in rivulets down the windows, trapping them in this glittering world. Marisol let Teo lead her onto the dance floor and tried not to worry about the ticking clock. They might not get the chance to spend this much time in House Vida again, but she had a part to play before she could disappear.

Patience may have been the most annoyingly useful of all Gaspar’s lessons.

By the time they rejoined Bas, he was standing near the food table in conversation with Noelia Galvan. Instead of jumping apart, the two turned in unison, acting as though they just happened to be in the same place because they just happened to know the same people. After everything, Marisol had almost forgotten about their mysterious alliance. Now it was all she could think about.

Were they pretending to be strangers for her benefit or Teo’s?

Noelia lit up at the sight of her, throwing her arms around Marisol before she could even warn of how sweaty she was. “I’ve missed you! I almost wish I hadn’t skipped the hunt, considering how exciting things became.”

“Is excitement the word we should be using?” Marisol asked, tipping her head in Teo’s direction. “He lost a lot of blood.”

“In an act of impulsive heroics, I’ve heard.” Noelia curtsied. “I’m glad to see you back on your feet, Your Highness.”

“Thank you.” Teo gestured for her to straighten, a warm smile on his face. “Lady Galvan, right? My fiancée speaks highly of you.”

Noelia tucked a dirty-blond curl behind her ear, adjusting her jeweled hood to keep it in place. “I’m lucky to have found a friend in her. As I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, true friends in high society are a rare gift.”

Bas stood back as Noelia and Teo spoke, his arms folded over his chest. His attention was on the crowd, making his usual sweep for any possible threat to the prince, so he didn’t notice Marisol studying him. Her inability to read him was not only a liability; it had become a source of frustration. He was a better actor than she was, looking for all the world as though he hadn’t orchestrated this meeting. Whatever he was planning, it must have been big.