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“Amira…” Bereille said gently, and I heard forgiveness in it. Tears ached in my throat.
Something shimmered in Amira’s eyes before she took a calming breath and pushed back a tendril of hair that had fallen free of the elaborate updo.
“I demand loyalty.” Her eyes swept the bewildered room. The guards were silent.
I looked at Bereille, but he was no longer there. His strong body had fallen forward, death claiming him. My heart lurched in my chest, and something broke inside me. Some darkness that had slithered against my soul shifted. I had felt it flutter when Autumn saved me, and our bargain had made things more transparent, but this…
This broke and remade me.
Death in Deals
Gregoire married Tilly. I had,fortunately,missed his wedding.
Being in Geva was strange without having him turn to when I was lonely… or needed release. As disturbing as that was, I’d always had him to take away my loneliness—even when we’d dabbled with other people, we always came back to each other. Although now I realized many of the things he’d done in the past would annoy me now. I was no longer that girl. Even if he didn’t have Tilly, I might have never been with Gregoire again. I had grown since he and I had been something.
Gregoire avoided me as best he could, and Tilly gave me an overly bright smile whenever she saw me, which made me want to punch her lovely little face. Generally, I didn’t run into them, and if I saw Gregoire on patrol, I turned around and went in the other direction.
No other man caught my attention in the months I’d been home. An entire winter without so much as a thought of a man… Well, that was a lie. I had thought of one man in ways I had no right to think about him. An imposing man that I should not be thinking about months after parting.
Sir Rivierre of a grand estate in Halifax asked for my hand in marriage the same night he met me. He was a thumpy older gentleman, not entirely grotesque to look at but with a rounded belly and dull blue eyes. I declinedsadlyto his advances and feigned another man was courting me to get him to leave me alone. I didn’t bother to tell my mother about that fiasco.
Honestly, I didn’t hate the balls that much. I loved to dance. The sway of the music always whispered across my body and twined with my soul in a freeing manner. Ativan had taught me to dance. My mother had been my instructor, but Ativan had been my partner. Ativan moved with a grace and fluidity that men half his age would never attain, no matter what they did. My father had a limp which had developed from a wound to his knee he’d gotten during a dispute between Franconia and the kingdom of Feist almost five decades ago that had never healed properly. Being on his feet too long made it twinge and ache, so he often used a stool at the forge. This prevented him from doing much dancing to my mother’s dismay.
The dancing was the only good thing about these balls and social events. I could do without the stuffy old men with wandering hands and bad breath. The younger men seemed to gravitate toward the blonde, empty-headed, classic beauties. Something I was not. I didn’t think I was hideous, but my looks were certainly different from the other women at these events. My figure wasn’t really what the eligible bachelors seemed to gravitate to, either. I was slim and muscular, with a considerable chest and long legs. There was nothing exceptional about my curves like the other women, who flaunted them for the attention of the most eligible men.
I didn’t plan to bag a Duke’s son or anything so fantastical, so my expectations were low. But not as low as Sir Rivierre. I tried to blend into the crowd and not draw attention to myself as much as possible. Partly because of the queen wanting me dead and because I just didn’t want to be there. I was only there under the insistence of my mother.
Like now.
Spring had come slowly, and snow still clung to the shadowy places in Neverwood. Iro had been absent for three weeks, and I was worried about him. He’d never stayed away for more than a few days in the last five years of our friendship. But I couldn’t think of that now as an attendant helped me from the carriage and onto the steps of the castle of Xev. I sucked in the cool air that brought with it the scents of lilacs, lilies, and crocuses. I had a thick blue cloak trimmed with white fur over my shoulders, hiding my stunning blue and yellow dress. This dress was a favorite that my mother had ordered for me. It had sleeves that came to my elbows, a bust that dipped low and crisscrossed with red ribbon, and the full skirt faded from blue to yellow in a stunning effect I had never seen. This gorgeous dress was meant to be seen, to stand out, and it was wasted on me because I craved neither.
I touched the ribbon tied in a bow across the crown of my hair. My finger caressed the silky strip, and I took another calming breath. The gift remained a daily staple in my attire. I should have thrown the damn thing away, but I couldn’t part with it. I fidgeted with it when I was anxious.
Even though I didn’t want to be there, I looked damn good. The guards directed appreciative glances my way as I entered the castle, and I gave them a little wink as I passed. I might hate this, but at least I could entertain myself a bit. I needed another calming breath as I stepped into the heat and movement of the ballroom. This spring bash was always a popular one. Even married couples came for the fun of wearing masks. Inhibitions pushed away with the thrill of hiding one's identity.
I had a fun, fluttery butterfly mask over my face. It was blue, yellow, and black with little wings around my ears. My mother had made it herself and the effect of it had satisfied her to no end.
The room was aglow in a fairytale-inspired wash of glinting gold and silver, with large lanterns and balls of light. As I glanced around awestruck, I had to admit the Duke and Duchess of Xev knew how to put on a ball.
Men that had never even looked at me before asked me to dance. It was still clear I wasn’t blonde and beautiful, and my figure hadn’t changed, but the men felt more shameless when their faces were covered. I didn’t blame them, I too felt brazen. I asked a handsome guard to dance, who was baffled and tugged ruefully at his raven mask. I had seen the guard before and noted his muscular physique and dimpled smile with interest. I wasn’t sure if the guards were allowed to dance with the patrons, but he didn’t deny me as I tugged him onto the floor. He chuckled as he swung me around. I answered his laugh and found that jerk in my stomach that proved I could be attracted to other men and not just a certain murderous huntsman. The lively song was over too soon, but the guard, Oren, told me he would find me again for more dances. I grinned openly and winked at him. He stumbled when he walked away trying to watch me over his shoulder.
A shiver of pleasure went through me for the first time in months. Perhaps there was hope for me yet. A guard was more my speed in the love department than anyone of higher social standings. Let's face it, I was attracted to the muscled frame of the guards, and they would fit into my future better than any of the other men here.
Feeling optimistic, I exited the dance floor to have a drink. I usually avoided alcohol at these events, wanting my full wits about me if someone declared for me to be beheaded on orders of the queen, but congratulations were in order for my party of one. I could find a man attractive, and I had to assume he found me attractive too, or else he was an exceptional performer.
“My lady, you’ve been avoiding me.”
I nearly spit out my wine. Sir Rivierre glared at me from beneath the mask of a beetle. It suited him, and I had to hide a smirk behind my glass.
“Excuse me, Sir Rivierre. What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I’ve called upon you numerous times to have my messages go without a reply.”
I gave him a tiny curtsy. “My apologies, sir. Winter has taken a toll on my family. It is trying times.”
“Of course,” he said as if realizing he was being a dick. Not that I cared. Last I heard, he was courting a girl from Savine, so I had thought my dealings with him had come to a grateful end. Not the case, it would seem, although this encounter might simply be to extract from me an apology for hurt male pride. In which case, I was an excellent performer and didn’t share his ego, so I could grovel at his feet if it meant he would leave me the fuck alone.
“I had heard you were busy with a betrothal, sir.”
