Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

I had once thought there was no greater torture than having to listen to the parties from my bedroom window.

I was mistaken.

Those Prince Eadric had pulled into the castle were abhorrent people, and I was quickly realizing why Talyssa carried herself as she did. Far better to be ignored by these monsters than to catch their attention. They thrived on lording themselves over even one another. I could hardly fathom what would happen when one of us landed in their sights.

Tonight's shroud was a dusky purple, the color the evening sky had been before the red mist settled in over Veressia. My marks were more visible through the sheer material than they had been last night, but Zaharya had left my hair down, hoping the dim lights and the soft waves of my hair would disguise the marks enough.

The taste of smoke and ash was constant on my tongue as I wove through the crowd, offering drinks and removing empty glasses. It was difficult, through the purple haze of the shroud, to tell who was a solid figure and who was a Soulshade, and three times now, I'd found myself offering a drink to a spirit. Now, those three Soulshades followed me around the party, floating aimlessly behind me as I walked.

Thankfully, it seemed no one had noticed. With all the people, even though I'd offered the tray to a Soulshade, a human had ended up taking a drink from it.

"Yes, yes, Prince Eadric would never let your daughter suffer like that." My ears caught on the conversation of two of the partygoers. One, a tall blond male with a white waistcoat and pants, both adorned with gold buttons and topped with a gold filigreed mask, and a woman in a pale blue dress with a silver mask in the shape of wings across her eyes. "You know he would give you the treatment before her time runs out. You must trust in him."

Purple clouded my vision, yet all I could see was red. The blood of my mother, covering her face and my hands. The mist over the city, oppressive and damning.

The shroud was more suffocating than ever, clinging to the sweat that had begun to bead on my forehead. My fingers tightened around the edges of the tray in my hands and my entire existence tunneled until it was focused on the couple. Their words echoed in my ears, ringing like a bell toll through my mind. A treatment existed, and the prince had it .

I took a step towards them, intent on listening more. I hovered as they continued speaking, offering the nearly empty tray to any who passed, though my eyes and ears were fixed firmly on the two in front of me.

"What do you think he will ask for it?" the male said, fidgeting with the buttons on his coat. "I am starting to run low on funds since we arrived here."

"I'm sure it will not be unreasonable." The woman set her hand upon the man's arm.

"He—" The man noticed me and his entire presence changed. His shoulders rolled back, a frown grew across his face, and he drew himself up to his full height as he closed the three or four steps between us to invade my space. His boots tugged on the ends of my dress. "Why are you eavesdropping, worthless servant?"

I bit my tongue before I could defend myself, remembering all the instructions not to speak. Instead, I shook my head, lowering my eyes and holding the tray out slightly.

"No, you were listening to us ," he snarled. His meaty hand wrapped around my wrist, shoving me back away from him.

I lost my balance, and my stomach swooped, knowing I had done the one thing Zaharya had warned me not to: drawn attention to myself. I heard the hem of my dress rip from where it was still caught beneath the man's boot and I stumbled more, only to immediately bump into someone's shoulder. Or rather, they bumped into me. The world seemed to slow as my feet got tangled up in the fabric and I watched as the tray began to tilt.

Before it fell, a large, gloved hand reached out to snatch it from my hands, the other gloved hand catching my elbow and guiding me upright. Even through the gloves, I felt the warmth of the contact, so unlike the cold anger of the other man who'd pushed me.

The immediate vicinity had gone silent, the couple I'd been focused on included, and the partygoers stared. My eyes were level with a broad chest, and I was almost scared to look up and see who I'd collided with. But slowly, I raised my eyes, only to be met with a familiar smirk.

My heart was pounding against my rib cage. This man, whoever he was, was clearly important given the quiet whispers and full-blown stares he was receiving. He held my tray out and I quickly took it from him, bowing my head slightly. Our hands brushed against the other and I watched his eyes widen behind his mask. Whispers erupted behind us, but I could not focus enough to make the words out. He seemed startled that I'd touched him, and I wondered for a moment if this oversight, yet another one tonight, would get me killed.

As I moved to pull away, his hand tightened around the tray, flexing against mine.

"Thank you," I muttered, keeping my eyes firmly on the silver buttons of his jacket and not on the strong jawline emphasized by his mask. I tugged on the tray gently, trying to get him to give it back so I could disappear into the background like I was meant to.

More whispers struck up behind me.

The skull-masked man's jaw clenched as his eyes tracked some movement behind me. The smirk was entirely erased now, only a neutral expression in its place. One that was so neutral, I knew it had been crafted intentionally.

I swallowed hard. Gods above, now I'd done it. I would never be able to find the treatment to save my brothers. Not if I was dead.

He raised his hand, and my body reacted on pure instinct. I flinched, ducking my head and curling in on myself as my eyes squeezed shut. I should have kept them open to see when the strike would land, but I couldn't bring myself to watch his hand fly towards me. My body was tense, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

"Stop it," the man hissed, low enough that I barely heard him.

Opening my eyes, I straightened, pulling my shoulders down away from my ears.

"Go back to your business," he ordered, looking over my head. The small crowd that had gathered skittered away, leaving us alone in the throng of dancers. His head tilted as he looked back at me.

I hadn't noticed before, hadn't been this close, but his eyes were not blue, but gray. Not a blue so pale it looked gray, but the true gray of a storm cloud, of ashes in a fireplace, of a cold and bleak winter morning. The gray of a tombstone.

The tightness of his jaw eased as he looked over me, tilting his head. Studying me. He did not speak again, and I didn't dare make the same mistake twice. I would bite my own tongue in two before I would utter another word in this ballroom.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his mouth opened, but his gaze once again flickered over my head. Something in his eyes changed once more, and I realized now that this man was not just important here—he was dangerous.

The look in his eyes was now like the gray of steel and iron rather than that of storm clouds and ashes. Hard and defiant. Deadly. With one last glance down at me, he nodded and turned on his heel.

Deep breaths steadied me, and I stood there until I was able to walk without feeling like my knees might buckle. I'd been extremely lucky in that encounter. My anger had made me careless, and being careless would only end with me dead.

I grasped the tray tighter and finished my rounds to collect empty glasses, focusing only on placing each foot in front of the other, holding the tray upright, and not getting in anyone's way.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the tray was full, and I had an excuse to retreat to the kitchens. I caught a glimpse of the masked man again as I made my exit, and he raised his glass at me, the smirk once again on his lips. The deadly man was gone, replaced again by this teasing one that sent my heart racing and my hands trembling.

I sped up my steps.

Safely back in the kitchens, I all but tossed the tray onto the counter, pulling at the shroud until I was free from it.

"Odyssa, what happened?" Zaharya asked, putting down the bottle of wine she'd been using to refill glasses and coming over to my side.

I shrugged off her hand on my shoulder and pushed my hands through my hair. Even now, words refused to come out of my mouth, hiding behind my teeth instead. Ash and smoke burst across my tongue and I squeezed my eyes shut just as the cat flickered into existence at my feet.

"What's wrong with her?" Maricara's voice could hardly be described as concerned. It should have spurned my anger, but instead, all it did was pull frantic laughter from my chest until I was sliding to the floor, gasping for breath. "Well, she certainly did not last long."

"That's enough," Zaharya snapped. She and Talyssa squatted down beside me, still in their shrouds. "Odyssa, what happened ?"

I shook my head again, biting down on my tongue. I could not tell them what had led to the events, could not admit that the man in the skull mask had looked at me with pity when I thought he would hit me.

"She bumped into Tallon and almost dropped her tray. He caught it for her and then she spoke ." Elena's voice had all our heads snapping towards her. She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed beneath the shroud, and even through the purple fabric and the unshed tears in my eyes, I could see the frown on her face. "And then he was about to touch her shoulder and she flinched. The prince came in shortly after."

Silence held dominion over the room for one heartbeat, two, three. And then three echoing voices said at once, " What? "

The judgement in the collective voice was deafening. There were too many things to focus on, and I could feel the room starting to spin. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I tucked my head between them. The skull-masked man was Tallon. Elena had seen everything. Tallon had been about to touch me. The prince had come in. Elena had seen everything.

My mind was spinning.

"I did not mean to," I said, voice muffled by my knees. I could feel their stares on my back. Someone was looking at the marks that stretched down my neck into my gloves. Cold washed over my foot and when I lifted my head, the cat was sitting on top of my foot, looking at me. Its wide yellow eyes held something akin to concern, and for a moment, almost looked human. "Someone thought I was eavesdropping when I lingered to offer them a drink. The man got upset and pushed me into the other man. He—Tallon—caught me and the tray. All I said was thank you."

"She touched his hand," Elena added.

"You must be more careful," Zaharya said. She reached out her hand to touch my shoulder again, and this time, I did not stop her. "You are very lucky it happened before the prince entered."

"Why?" I turned my gaze away from my feet—from the cat—and focused on her pursed lips beneath her shroud.

"It would have been much worse than whatever blow you thought Tallon was going to deliver."

A chill ran down my spine. "What does that mean?"

Maricara pushed off the counter, pulling up the ends of her dress and veil, and squatted in front of my feet. I tried not to focus on how the cat scurried away and moved to my side with an irritated look and flick of its tail. "Pray to whatever gods are left that you never find out."

Beside me, the cat nodded. It rubbed its head against my hand wrapped around my shin, sending ice-cold tingles into my skin.