Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

B ack in my room, I made my way for the balcony, barely stopping to throw the shroud in the direction of the bed before I flung the doors open and stepped out into the early night. I gulped down breaths, heedless of the metallic tinge of iron the air now held.

A firm grip on the balcony railing was the only thing that kept me standing.

Slowly, with each breath, my body released some of the tension it held until I was no longer shaking and was able to hold myself up as I gazed up into the red mist that blanketed Veressia.

I tipped my head down and took in the city below.

From this height, I could not make out many details of the city, and no sounds rose this high. I still searched for my house though, chasing a foolish hope that I would be able to glimpse Rhyon or Emyl.

Suddenly, I understood why the king threw himself from the spire after his wife had succumbed to the blood plague.

Would it feel like flying? Or would it only give that sick feeling of your stomach bottoming out as I watched the ground come up to meet me? Did it matter?

A chill against my calf brushed past me to settle on my left foot. It was an odd sensation as there was no weight to the specter cat, just a coldness. I still kicked it away regardless and took it as my sign to retreat from the balcony.

The sun was setting, and I needed to get ready for the ball still.

I focused on the rough metal of the balcony railing beneath my hands, the cool breeze across my face, the uneven stone of the balcony floor beneath my feet. Anything to ground me and keep me from falling into the panic building in my chest.

For the first time since I entered those gilded gates and heard them slam shut behind me, I was grateful for this shroud. Returning inside, I stepped up to the mirror across from the wardrobe, and all I could see staring back at me were bloodshot eyes and the dark shadows beneath them. If I'd been left uncovered, they were likely to scare away any nobility who saw them, appalled at my lack of care.

While I wanted nothing more than to take a running leap from the balcony and damn the consequences, my brothers needed me. Every day here was another chance for them to contract the plague, and our family's luck would only hold once and I'd used it up. I needed the treatment the prince hoarded, needed to be able to get it and take it back to my brothers.

The emerald green dress in my wardrobe had thin straps that I knew would dig into my shoulders and a plunging neckline that would require careful movements if I wanted to keep from spilling out of it. It was wasteful, in my mind, to have these gowns hidden beneath the shrouds, when all we needed was something simple. The silk against my skin would serve as another reminder of the opulent waste of the Coward Prince. I pulled it on.

Even the deep green shroud would not be able to hide my marks in this dress, and I doubted even the addition of the gloves would make a difference. Regardless, I slipped them on before pulling the shroud over my head.

The cat sat in the balcony doorway and watched me the entire time.

I pointedly ignored it as I left the room, shutting the door firmly behind me.

Throughout the party, the constant state of looking over my shoulder was beginning to wear on me. I'd known coming into the castle that I would never be safe, that I could trust no one and nothing, but seeing those assertions laid out in front of me was far different. Between the other servants, the Soulshades, the castle itself, Tallon, and the prince… my mind was quickly turning into a near perpetual state of madness.

Everything was tinged emerald tonight, and the ballroom was decorated like a forest, complete with tall vases filled with spiraling twisted plants and ornate vines draped from the ceiling around the chandeliers. As it was the nights before, the polished onyx floors reflected the candlelight thrown from the ornate candelabras, casting shadows across the tapestries that decorated the walls.

Dutifully, I kept my eyes down as I served the drinks. Before, I'd wanted nothing more than to stay in the kitchens, but now, they were the last place I wanted to be. The kitchens would give me nothing, but here, despite the horrible stench of entitlement, I could blend into the background, forgotten. I could excel here if I forced myself to forget where I was and why I was here. I'd served my entire life, after all.

None of the partygoers minded their tongues. It was an interesting phenomenon the prince had created, however awful it was. Like Zaharya had said, take away our faces, and our humanity went with it. We were nothing more than moving serving trays to these people, and they spoke to us, about us, and around us as if we were of no consequence.

I took advantage of it, listening as closely as my damaged ears would allow. But I'd learned my lesson never to linger in one place for too long, and I kept moving, kept serving. Perhaps the only good thing about the gauzy shroud that covered me was that I did not have to fake a pleasant facade.

I'd felt eyes on me throughout the night, certainly. Some stared longer than others, trying to make out my face beneath the shroud as they studied the new addition to the castle. But it was too dark and the veil just too opaque to truly allow them to.

And though most of the overheard conversations only served to fuel my anger at the prince and his people and reinforce the disgust at the wasteful opulence, some of the words they'd uttered as I passed were extremely enlightening.

The prince was far less revered here than I'd expected. These people feared him, certainly, but they did not seem to like him. They were beholden to him, but even now, nearly a year into this plague, it seemed his inactions were finally beginning to grate on even his most trusted. Frustration over not claiming his title, over not being allowed out.

Most of it was trivial, but I tucked away each tidbit deep into the recesses of my mind. It might not all make sense now, but I knew eventually, someone would say something and it would all fall into place. And then, I could ensure my brothers would live and ensure my promise to my mother was kept.

Miraculously, I stayed out of trouble this time, and before long, the party was ending. As they had the nights prior, the revelers cared little for whoever had to come behind them, and I began collecting the empty and discarded glasses.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, but no ash coated my tongue. Carefully, I readjusted my grip on the tray before turning to see who was behind me.

Despite the others still flitting about in their shrouds, and the last of the occupants still filtering out of the ballroom, Tallon stood before me, unabashedly staring at me through his mask. A half-skull mask yet again, but different from each I'd seen before. This one was simpler, a dark green with silver-swirled filigree around the edges. The silver made his gray eyes even more piercing.

He handed me his glass, a smirk playing on his lips.

I added it to my tray with a scowl. His smirk turned into a full smile and he tipped his head back and laughed loudly, the sound echoing off the nearly empty ballroom and drawing the attention of those left behind. My chin stayed lifted as I turned. Retreating to the kitchens, I kept my steps slow and did not look back, even as I felt his eyes following my every move.