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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Zaina
The ballroom sparkles in opulence, but it looks garish after the comfortable practicality of Jokith. The lighting is dim, as I predicted it would be, making it even easier for me to blend into the background or duck between the swaying couples.
As much as I underplayed my fear of Madame discovering me, just the thought of being in the same room with her fills me with icy, relentless dread.
I take a deep breath, forcibly slowing my heartbeat as I take in the room. A gaggle of women surrounds my husband, one of them going so far as to put her hands on him. Fury burns through me, and Khijhana growls.
It doesn’t help that we haven’t spoken since our argument, aside from exchanging a few sparse words about our plan. Though he had returned early enough last night, Einar had found every excuse he could to be elsewhere today, having breakfast and lunch with the king.
I woke up to a box with my costume and a note.As requested, I procured a costume forHelgain caseHelgahas still not changed her mind about risking her own life and our entire plan.
And now the stubborn ass is standing around getting fawned over when he’s supposed to be talking to my sister. Khijhana bares her teeth, picking up on my frustration, and I urge myself to calm down.
Taking a deep breath, I scan the room for anyone roughly Madame’s height and build in an ostentatious costume, but she doesn’t seem to be here.
The only reason I could see her missing this is if she’s hiding from Einar. The thought bolsters me, the idea that we have even this small bit of power over her.
I do see why Einar hasn’t yet spoken to Aika when I spot her standing out like a very sore thumb in a bejeweled monstrosity of a mask. At least, I assume it’s her, since the costume screamsMadame. Besides, she’s nearly the shortest person in the room.
Then, she does something that erases the very last vestiges of my doubt. No one else in the world would stalk away from the prince mid-dance at his own ball.
Oh, Aika.
She has never been one for subtleties, and I have to wonder if this was all a part of her plan. Though, judging by the way the prince stares after her, perhaps it is working after all.
“Oh, another kitten, come out to play.” A voice behind me interrupts my thoughts. “Here kitty, kitty.”
I spin to see a young lord dressed as a bull, complete with a golden nose ring.
It’s tempting to pull out my knife and show him exactly what I think of being beckoned, but Einar is pulling the dragon who is probably Aika onto the dance floor.
The condescending lordling might just be useful.
I beam at him, batting my eyelashes while I hold my hand out as if he’s already asked me to dance. He puffs out his chest, strutting while he leads me to the floor, and I only barely manage to keep my lip from curling.
Still, at least he’s easy enough to move around, even if I do have to push his hand firmly up my back more than once. I’m dancing near Einar within seconds, close enough to hear what is definitely my sister’s voice, though it’s thick with a posh accent.
“The things you say don’t add up,” she says. “I don’t know what you’re lying about, but I intend to find out. You’d just better hope I’m the only one.”
She’s either warning Einar or threatening him.
She darts a glance over her shoulder, and I hide my face in my partner’s chest, prompting him to get far too comfortable. I sincerely hope Einar is not paying attention, lest that temper of his gets the better of him.
It’s hard to believe this used to be my life, dancing and flirting and letting men paw at me while I simpered and listened for information after I poisoned their drinks with truth serum.
The lord’s hand latches on to my wrist as he spins me, and my vision swirls for a fraction of a second.
Manacles on my wrist.
Warm, sticky breath on my face.
A sharp-edged blade sliding along my skin.
I force my feet to complete the turn, and my partner releases me.
Once Madame is gone, I will never have to tolerate unwanted hands on me again. I bolster myself with the thought, ignoring the crawling of my skin while I finish out the dance to avoid causing a scene.
