Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I swept into the kitchens only minutes later than I should have, out of breath and sweaty. Zaharya was the only one to look up, looking at me for half a moment before sliding the tray she'd just filled across the counter.

Elena and Maricara were finishing their own trays, huddled together with their backs to us. I focused on taking deep breaths through my nose and filled the second tray Zaharya had set out. The plague had left my lungs weak, and it took far longer than I appreciated for my breathing to steady back out. By the time it had, the sun had settled behind the mountains for the evening and it was time for us to start our work.

I furrowed my brow and looked around, but there was no sign of Talyssa. Arranging the shroud and picking up my tray, I leaned in to Zaharya as we followed Elena and Maricara out of the kitchens. "Is Talyssa alright? Has someone checked on her?"

She shook her head. "No one has seen her since we left your room last night. Elena went to her room earlier but there was no answer. Camelya is supposedly looking for her."

"We can manage without her," Elena said. She tossed a poorly disguised sneer over her shoulder at me. "We did when you disappeared."

I bit my tongue and kept walking. Talyssa was not like me; she'd seemed competent and, though timid, she seemed settled with this reality of ours. Though, given how much had been happening to me that I'd kept from the others, it was entirely possible that they all did the same. As we approached the ballroom, I wondered if that was by design, to isolate us and make us hoard our secrets and thoughts like the prince hoarded his most prized inside the castle.

The music began as we entered the ballroom, an eerie tune that crawled across the heads of those in attendance to reach us. The ballroom itself had been turned into a mockery of what the sunrise looked like before the mist descended. Swaths of vivid peach fabric draped from the ceiling, falling down the walls around golden decor and bright pink flowers. Where they had found such flowers, I didn't want to know. They'd likely cost more than an entire month's wage just for plants that would be dead at this time tomorrow. A waste.

Further into the ballroom, a set of doors opened and then closed, and then the music faltered. Only for a beat, and then it resumed, but the effect had been noticed and those in the ballroom all turned their attention to whomever had entered. I kept my head down, focused on the tray in my hands as partygoers snatched drinks from it.

People were whispering, and there was a tension in the room that hadn't been there any other night. My eye twitched, desperate to search out the cause for the whispers. As the last glass was pulled from my tray, the gap in the crowd gave me a view of what exactly had commanded everyone's attention.

Tallon.

My feet forgot how to move and I was grateful for the shroud that covered my face as my mouth fell open slightly. Tallon was standing against the wall, which was far from unusual. It wasn't his presence that had stirred everyone up, but his sartorial choices instead, it seemed. The jacket he'd had on earlier was gone and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, cuffed at the tops of his forearms and revealing the thick, black marks that decorated his skin. His collar was unbuttoned to the third button, revealing the matching marks that swirled across his chest as well.

It was no wonder the ballroom had erupted into whispers at his entrance.

I could see the moment he felt my stare. His head snapped up, eyes fixed directly on mine, and his shoulders fell slightly, easing down from around his ears. My cheeks flushed as that slow smirk spread across his face. His chin dipped slightly, a ghost of a nod, and then he was pushing his cuffed sleeves further up his forearms before letting his head tilt back against the wall.

I swallowed hard, eyes tracking over the curve of his neck and then trailing lower to map the muscles of his forearms beneath the thick black marks.

"It's horrid that he'd flaunt them so." Someone's whispered venom pulled me out of my trance. "Prince Eadric will not be pleased."

"It's unnatural. It's a shame the prince even let him in here."

The words spurred me back into my body, unsticking my feet and sending me along through the ballroom, people already filling up my tray with their empty glasses. I felt Tallon's eyes on my back as I worked, and I hated that I wanted nothing more than to settle into the wall beside him and return the favor.

I found myself conflicted in my feelings once more. There was no mistaking what had led him to choose tonight to forego his jacket and roll up his sleeves; it was clearly a response to our earlier conversation about my gloves and the shroud.

Had he chosen to display them in solidarity, to show me that he didn't care what those others thought of the marks that adorned our skin? I was ashamed to say it pleased me that he cared enough to reassure me he didn't mind my marks. Our marks.

It made me want to pull my gloves off and show the world that we matched, but I would never have the reluctant acceptance he was privy to. Still, the gesture sent me about my tasks with a small smile on my face.

Tallon watched me as he always did now. Unlike before, now his eyes were a welcome weight upon my back. Knowing that he cared enough to watch me, cared enough to send Sylviana in his place when he couldn't.

"Do you know why he's chosen to show off his marks for the first time since I've been here?" Zaharya murmured as she fell into step beside me. Both of us continued collecting empty glasses as we roved through the ballroom.

"He did not like my gloves," I answered mindlessly. I was too focused on my task to realize what I'd admitted to her until the words were already out of my mouth, and it was too late to snatch them back.

The disapproval radiated off her, but she only hummed in response, as if she didn't believe my answer. Without waiting for a reply, she split off and carved a path deeper into the ballroom. Returning my focus to my work, despite the growing pit in my stomach that those words would come back to haunt me, I continued until my tray was full and began to make my way to the kitchens.

"How horrid," someone said to their companion, "that he chooses to mock those who cannot show their marks without fear of Prince Eadric's response."

"Truly," the companion agreed. They both looked at me, though I kept my gaze down and did not falter as I passed. Even with my poor hearing, I heard their parting words. "Did you see her? The marks beneath her veil are covered, and yet he flaunts his. It's hardly kind, but I suppose that's the point."

Despite the happiness I'd felt earlier, the couple's words lingered, leaping into the pit that had already begun to grow in my stomach until it was a hard ball of anxiety that gnawed at my spine.

No one would dare say anything to Tallon where he could hear. No one would punish him for his marks being visible, not like they would me, and perhaps he wanted to remind me of that. Perhaps they were right, that it was a mockery rather than a show of solidarity. I knew what I wanted it to be, but I also knew that I rarely got what I wanted.

My hands ached to throw the tray to the ground, to smash the glasses against the polished stone floor and tear the tapestries from the wall. It had to be another one of his games, and I would not fall for this one.

Gritting my teeth, I continued my work, clearing out empty glasses, returning to the kitchen for more, and starting the cycle all over again. I tried in vain to keep my eyes off him, but I found myself watching him more times than I cared to acknowledge. And each time my gaze wandered over his body, he was watching me back.

Despite the overwhelming impulse to do so, I refrained from confronting him now and vowed to address it later. The games in private were one thing, but to bring them here where he could mock me openly and almost certainly cause me to make a mistake was unfair. He would not be punished if I made a misstep due to the distractions he caused. I would.

It felt like days had passed by the time the midnight bells finally tolled. The sigh of relief I let out fluttered my veil, but the emotion was short lived as the doors at the back of the ballroom—the ones Prince Eadric entered from—swung open. The room collectively froze and held its breath as he stomped to the stage and commanded the music to stop.

Against the wall, Tallon's fists clenched and he pushed himself upright.

My stomach sank and I tore my gaze from Tallon, searching for Zaharya instead, only to find that she was searching for me. Through the veil, her hand waved me over to where she stood behind one of the tables, pressing herself against the wall. The mood in the ballroom shifted as the doors opened and closed again.

I tucked in beside her, but from this vantage point, we could not see the stage or who had joined Prince Eadric. Tallon was still pressed against the wall, but his shoulders had tensed up, making them look even more broad. My fingers twitched, wanting to reach out—for what, I didn't know—but I felt vulnerable here in this ballroom waiting for whatever news was so grim it was distressing even Tallon.

The feeling throughout the ballroom reminded me a bit of the tension that had filled the room when Prince Eadric had been about to punish me for jostling him, but somehow, tonight the fear was even thicker. Something had happened, and the sinking feeling in my stomach spoke of nothing good.

Zaharya's fingers found mine, twining together and squeezing. She kept her face towards the stage but held on to my hand. Despite our tepid relationship, I was grateful for the support. Though perhaps it was helping her as much as it helped me.

Someone in the crowd gasped closer to the stage. Exchanging looks, Zaharya and I shared a nod, and then she was pulling me through the crowd to stand along the wall in an attempt to see better what was happening.

Prince Eadric was on the stage, his hand wrapped in a head of copper hair belonging to someone kneeling before him. Zaharya subtly strained her neck, rising on her toes, but settled back down, shaking her head minutely. She couldn't see who it was either. My stomach churned, bile sour on my tongue, but I was grateful it was not ash and smoke that coated the inside of my mouth. This person was alive, at least.

"Someone," his voice boomed, echoing over the polished walls and floors, despite the bodies and fabric. "Someone has stolen from me. Someone has decided they would rather be out there , at the mercy of fate, rather than in here, safe and cared for."

Our hands tightened around each other's in the same heartbeat. I didn't know why Zaharya's clenched, but my own was fear and anger. Outrage.

"See who has betrayed us!" The crowd shuffled forward and parted just so, and I saw the face of the woman Prince Eadric was holding.

It was Talyssa.

Zaharya's hand grasped mine so tightly I felt the bones shifting. The prince said something else, but ringing filled my ears, the room hollowed out, and all I could see was Talyssa's face, with an expression there I was intimately familiar with. Failure. Shame.

"Well, do enlighten us. Why did you want to leave us, my dear?" Prince Eadric asked. "What gave you the right to try to steal silver and gold from my palace? From the home I welcomed you into?"

She kept her gaze straight ahead, but I saw her jaw clench. In that moment, something in me wished I had pushed past both our walls and reached out to her more. Perhaps if it had been both of us working together, we could have made a difference. If the prince had caught me that night instead of Tallon, I had no doubt that I would have been in her place now.

Eadric scoffed loud enough to carry over the throng of bodies, and he pushed her to the floor. Zaharya stepped in front of me just as my body lurched forward. "No," she hissed. "You'll just get yourself killed with her."

"Tallon, if you will." Prince Eadric motioned for Tallon to join them on the stage.

I watched as slowly, his eyes flicked directly to me and then shuttered, flat gray even from across the room, and he sauntered to the prince's side. There was nothing of the Tallon I knew in there; every bit of him was Prince Eadric's puppet.

"Let this be a reminder to all of you of who is in control here." He nodded at Tallon. "Kill her."

My stomach dropped to my feet, and now it was my turn to squeeze Zaharya's hand. The crowd exploded into murmurs, but no one seemed particularly surprised, not even Zaharya.

"What is he doing?" I asked under my breath, leaning in as close as I dared. Tallon would kill Talyssa, I had no doubt of that. He would do anything the prince asked of him, and despite the roiling in my soul, perhaps I needed to see this more than anyone.

Cold brushed up against my leg, and for half a moment, I would have sworn I felt weight pressing against me in the same shape.

Tallon replied to the prince, bowing deeply. I was frozen in place as he raised his hand and waved it towards Talyssa. The movement was sharp, and my eyes could only track the marks that lined from his forearms as they lifted from his skin and undulated, growing into a writhing mass of black.

Exactly as mine had done.

The mass enshrouded Talyssa, concealing her from view only for a moment before retreating into Tallon's skin. Our eyes met across the room, and there was a brief glimmer of life in his eyes, a flash of something that broke through the mask.

The room was still for a heartbeat, and then as if it had fallen over like the shroud we wore each night, Talyssa began to bleed.

Blood poured from her nose, then her ears, mouth, eyes.

My face felt hot and I knew my breathing was more like panting now, but I couldn't stop it. My eyes were fixed on Talyssa, and the phantom taste of blood filled my mouth, the cloying thickness of it in the back of my throat choking off what breath I could manage. I was no longer only in the ballroom, but back on my own deathbed. Each choked gasp Talyssa let out mirrored my own, and my hand clawed at my throat, trying to clear the blood that was not there.

Zaharya let go of my hand to wrap her arms around my waist, pulling me tightly to her and turning me away from the stage. I felt Tallon's eyes on my back but buried my face into Zaharya's veil as I tried desperately to breathe .

"It will be over soon," she murmured, fighting her hold. "Hold yourself together just a while longer."

Zaharya's warm body against my own and Sylviana's cold form against my leg were the only things that kept me tethered to the reality in front of me. My heart was pounding loudly, drowning out any more words uttered by Prince Eadric. My mind darted between the image of Talyssa's body on the stage and Tallon standing above her, his hands in his pockets and his face a picture of boredom.

Prince Eadric clapped and the flinch that followed tore through my entire body, jerking me away from Zaharya. He said something, his voice booming through the ballroom, but the words did not register in my mind. The image of Talyssa's blood pouring from her body held dominion there, giving room for nothing else.

"Come," Zaharya murmured, tugging me by the hand until my feet understood her intention and followed her. She tucked a tray beneath her arm. "You need a moment. We both need a moment."

I let Zaharya guide me from the ballroom. Tallon remained by the prince's side on the stage, but I felt his eyes on me still, heavy and watching me all the way until I turned the corner and entered the hall that would lead us back to the kitchens.

Zaharya pushed me into a chair in the kitchens, setting the tray down and nearly collapsing into the chair beside mine. Neither of us spoke. I wasn't sure I could have found the right words if I'd wanted to, despite questions flying through my mind. My hands shook where they rested in my lap.

"Are you well enough to continue working?" Zaharya finally asked after what felt like hours but could have been only minutes.

She squeezed my hand when I did not answer immediately, and I tore my gaze from the table. My voice was like I'd swallowed glass. "Yes." I cleared my throat, swallowing past the sour taste of shame and horror. "I can work."

Standing, she rested her hand on my shoulder. "I am sorry this is how you had to discover his truth."

Her words pulled the haze from my eyes and I looked up at her. "Why did you not just tell me from the beginning?"

"You wouldn't have believed me," she said. I saw the soft smile beneath the veil. "They never do, until they see it."

"What…" I trailed off, not really knowing what I was going to ask, or if I truly wanted an answer to it at all. I shook my head.

"I'd suggest staying away from him tonight, if you can."

"Why?" It wasn't argumentative; I agreed with her, after all. I wanted to know her reasoning, though.

"If Prince Eadric learns how close you two have gotten, he may order Tallon to do the same to you," she said quietly. "I'd prefer not to watch another one of us die like that."

"What will happen to her body?" I asked, again not really wanting to know the answer, but I couldn't bear the thought of her being left on that stage all night or of her being tossed aside like garbage.

"I told you, the walls are hungry. The castle will take her."

My thumb found its way to the still-healing wound in my hand. Yes, they were. Taking a deep breath that shuddered its way through my lungs, I stood. "They'll be missing us soon. We should return."

"Stay close tonight, please. I've seen how Tallon watches you. Tonight is not a night for any mistakes, Odyssa."

I nodded my agreement and once more, we gathered our things, new trays filled with food and drink, and returned to the ballroom.

Talyssa's body was no longer on the stage, and for a moment, I thought perhaps I'd imagined the whole thing, given how the party had resumed and those in attendance were acting as if nothing had happened. But as the crowd flitted about, I saw the pool of blood still shining on the onyx floors, and I knew it hadn't been in my head.

I kept my eyes off the stage as I worked, trying to keep my mind present and not wander. Every time I slipped up, every time I closed my eyes to regain a sense of control, red filled my vision. Sometimes it was Talyssa's body, but others it was Talyssa's face on my mother's body, in my mother's bed, and sometimes it was my mother on that stage.

Only a few moments had passed before I felt the heavy gaze on my back return. Tallon was watching me again, and I wanted to be angry at him, but nothing flared in my chest. The pit in my soul was empty, hollow of all things, even a deserved rage. Despite my lack of anger—my lack of any emotion— I refused to acknowledge his gaze and refused to let my own eyes wander in his direction.

Every time my mind conjured up Talyssa or my mother in their last moments, Tallon was now there. He'd caused Talyssa's death, caused her to die choking on her own blood just as my mother had, just as I almost had. Seven minutes instead of seven days hardly made a difference, and Tallon could control it. I wanted to vomit, to scrub my skin until it was raw and pink and had no trace of his touch on it, but just like the rage, nothing would come beyond utter apathy. So instead I hurled myself into my work.

The night faded quickly around me, and soon, the party was over. Elena and Maricara had quietly offered to clean up the ballroom, though Zaharya assured me they would not have to clean up Talyssa's blood. Following Zaharya to the kitchen, I froze as the taste of ash burst across my tongue.

The clattering of the tray falling to the floor echoed in my ears as Talyssa's Soulshade appeared in the corner she always preferred.

I lunged to the trash bin as I ripped at my veil and then promptly vomited.

Zaharya rushed to my side, and by the time I'd stopped, I was panting, eyes and throat stinging.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the corner. Talyssa's Soulshade was gone, and I hated that I was grateful for it.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her, so I shook my head. My heart thundered in my ears, sweat beading on my spine as cold as ice. "I'm sorry," I croaked as I ran from the kitchens. I needed out of this place.

Tallon had won yet again, and I was starting to realize that losing his games would cost me far more than my pride.