Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

T he party continued until the sun rose, casting rays of red-tinged gold to illuminate the shame peddled in this godsforsaken place. Thankfully, I had little time to ponder the masked stranger after our first encounter. From the moment I burst back into the kitchen, I was busy. Cleaning trays and refilling them, assisting where I could, and listening to instructions barked from the others on what to remember, how to act, and who to avoid.

I would have done anything to avoid going back to the ballroom, to avoid being in the same room as him. Even the memory of his wide smile, of his breath against my ear, sent chills down my spine, and not the sensual kind. There was something as wrong with that man as there was with the cat he clearly knew.

It was a good reminder to not become complacent. Though the girls had been pleasant enough, I was on unfamiliar ground, in a castle of people who would likely watch me die for entertainment before they would lift a finger to offer any assistance. My mother needed me to focus, to remember why I was here. My brothers hated me, but I would ensure their survival. If there was a cure in this godsforsaken place, I would find it and I would get it to Rhyon and Emyl. Spite and fury fueled me, and behind my mask, behind my walls, I could embrace that.

I was ready to fall asleep where I stood, my eyelids heavy and drooping. But we had to clean the kitchens before we could sleep so that the day staff could begin their own tasks. All that remained was to gather any remaining drinkware from the ballroom.

Zaharya had nominated the two of us for the task, wanting to show me the ballroom in the predawn light.

It was far different in the golden sunrise than in the dark of night, illuminated by extravagant chandeliers and candelabras that now lay dormant. In the day, it was cavernous. Every sound echoed off the walls.

Glasses and crumbs were everywhere in the ballroom, strewn aside and discarded with little care. I should have expected it, given the lack of care the revelers exhibited towards the rest of the suffering kingdom, but the sight of the glasses twinkling in the rising sun had my fists clenching at my sides.

At least we did not have to hide beneath the veils any longer.

The prince and his ilk had retreated to their rooms as the sun had just begun to lighten the sky, the skull-masked stranger along with them. It was only the two of us in here now, and only the sound of tinkling shards of glass and hard crumbs of food being tossed into wastebins filled the ballroom.

"Where did all these people come from?" I picked up a pair of unbroken glasses, inspecting them for any cracks before setting them on the tray to be washed and reused for tonight.

"For the parties?" Zaharya did not pause from her own tasks, did not raise her eyes from the floor. She continued before I could answer. "Oh, royal advisors, friends of the king, friends of the prince. When the mist settled and they realized what it was, they pulled everyone in here for safety and planning supposedly. And then they just never left again."

"And why must we be veiled during the parties?" It wasn't a smooth transition, but I was counting on her work distracting her enough to keep from noticing.

"If they cannot see our faces, they do not have to treat us as human, now do they?" Her words were a whisper. Still, she worked and did not look up at me.

"There was a man last night," I started, trying to get the words right to get the information I needed without raising any suspicion. "He wore a mask like a skull. Do you know who he is?"

"He is the prince's right hand." Her eyes snapped up to mine, searching my face intently. Her shoulders seemed to relax as she found whatever it was she was looking for. "I will warn you now, as I have warned the others. Do not forget the people who are here, are here for a reason. And that reason is that they matter enough to the prince to offer them safe harbor in these walls. They do not care about you, Odyssa, and they never will. None of them. You cannot forget that for a moment."

"You don't need to worry. That will never leave my mind. I know why I am here, and why they are here. I was merely curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity." She paused a beat, her lip quirking up. "Maybe that's how your Soulshade cat died."

Despite my best efforts, a smile made its way onto my face as well. Zaharya had a way about her—it put me at ease despite all my defenses. I needed to be wary of it, to keep her at arm's length. I did not need her death on my heart, did not need her memory to carve another pit in my soul.

"There are rumors that no one here has ever caught ill. Are they true?"

Glass fell heavily into the waste bin and the laughter that had lit up her eyes was gone, replaced by an altogether blank stare I knew far too well. She'd donned her mask, and I'd pushed too far. "Mind your words, Odyssa. The walls have ears, and they hunger for our secrets."

We completed the rest of our tasks in silence, cleaning and resetting the kitchens for the next ball. As we worked, I watched them, studying how they interacted with each other. Talyssa was skittish, flinching whenever someone made too loud a noise or accidentally brushed against her. Elena and Maricara worked seamlessly, even without speaking, and were obviously close. Zaharya was more challenging to understand though, which made me even more determined to puzzle her out.

"How did you all come to work here?" I did not truly want to know. The last thing I needed here was to make connections, to pave the way for grief to tear me to shreds when I inevitably lost one or all of them. But knowledge was power, and I needed all the advantage I could get to stay alive in this tomb. "Did you volunteer?"

Maricara slammed down the tray she'd been polishing. "Why would anyone volunteer to come to this prison? We were taken from our families, sent here and forced to work for a prince who cares more about the silver spoon in his hand than our lives."

I blinked at her. Perhaps I had found an unexpected ally in the fight against the Coward Prince.

"Did you volunteer?"

"Yes, I did."

She made a harsh sound at the back of her throat, like she was gargling with rocks. Her cheeks reddened and her chest rose and fell more prominently. "It will not make him notice you, you know?"

"Who? The cow—the prince? I could hardly care if he does or not." Truthfully, I also hardly cared to stand here explaining myself and my reasons either, but isolating myself from the only people I'd likely be interacting with during my stay here was far from wise. I kept my body loose and remained pressed against the wall rather than tensing up and invading her space like my bones screamed at me to do. My voice was even, a rarity when my anger began to crack through the walls. "I care that my mother died, and my younger brothers would have starved. There are no jobs in Jura that would pay enough to support us all. Except this one. That is why I volunteered."

"I hope you said goodbye to them before you left." A wave of blonde hair twisted in the air as she turned and left the room.

She was fortunate she'd left the room when she did, or I likely would have said something I'd regret later. At least that was one less person I had to worry about forming a friendship with.

"We were all conscripted," Talyssa added, her voice plucking softly through the tension in the room and pulling my attention to her. Her frown etched lines into her skin. "Maricara had to leave behind her daughter when she was brought here."

Bile soured in my throat.

"We all left something behind," Zaharya said. "Some of us more than others."

The others nodded their agreement.

"Now, shall we finish up here and get some rest? I think we've certainly earned it."

Our work was finished quickly, and though it was not silent, it was clear we were all treading carefully. Maricara had still not returned by the time we were finished. No one else seemed concerned by it, but I was. Had I been less tired, I might have inquired after her, might have tried to track down where she had gone. But I hardly had the energy to keep my body upright. Investigating the prickly blonde would have to wait until this evening.

Zaharya showed me to my room, and I tried to map the turns in my head, to sear the image of my new door and bedroom into my mind, but truthfully, I could not say what any of it looked like. My eyelids were heavy and my vision bleary from lack of sleep and the utter exhaustion seeping into my bones, and as soon as she closed the door behind her, I collapsed into the plush bedding that blanketed the bed.

I did not even bother locking the door. I was asleep before I drew my next breath.