Chapter Seventeen The Villainess Shall Go to the Ball

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Villainess Shall Go to the Ball

Fate seemed determined Lia would not enjoy her first ball. Her gown lay slashed to ribbons upon her bed.

On her way to send excuses to the king, she discovered a flat carved box at her door. Lifting the lid, Lia saw yards of soft white fabric, begemmed with the tiniest, daintiest jewels. She saw the loveliest gown in the world.

Lia's heart fluttered like a bird wishing it was not caged. She knew who had done this. She hoped she knew.

Time of Iron , ANONYMOUS

O n the morning of the ball, while Rae was telling Key and Emer stories, a slip of gold-leafed paper was slid under her door. ‘ His gracious Majesty grants Lady Lia Felice permission to make a gesture of sisterly forgiveness and bring Lady Rahela Domitia as her personal guest to the royal ball .'

Check out the phrasing on that. Everyone who saw this invitation would talk about how great Lia's power over the king must be, how gracious Lia was, and how little Rae deserved it.

Who cared? Rae had what she wanted. She held her snake aloft in victory and danced in a circle around the room as Key applauded her triumph.

"My lady," implored Emer. "Be calm. Put down the serpent."

Rae laid Victoria Broccoli tenderly down in a jewellery box. Emer was a killjoy, but she was right. There was no time to be lost.

"Let's embrace the evil aesthetic like it's a lover I'm about to poison. I want lips as red as blood, and eyeliner black as my heart."

"Announcing the Lady Rah… ahahaha… hel… ah… hello…"

Rae gave the pageboy a saucy wink. He dropped his trumpet.

Later this very night, Lia would drift down these stairs like a dream of poetry and moonlight made flesh. Across the ballroom, several grown men would shed tears.

As Rae descended, several grown men dropped their champagne flutes. The heroine was a sweet dream. She was a sexy nightmare.

The Golden Cobra waited at the bottom of the staircase.

"Looking like a queen. Need a king cobra?"

"I don't need a grass snake."

Rae took his golden arm. They sailed through the Ballroom of Sighs, heads together as though whispering seductively.

"Ready to do crime, cheerleader?"

"Try to keep up with me, theatre kid." Rae flirted her fan, feeling a thrill of nerves. "Seriously, are you certain you can lift the king's keys?"

"Hush, he's right there!" hissed the Cobra.

When Rae spun, Octavian was nowhere to be seen. She whirled back to find the Cobra fanning himself with the fan he'd plucked from her grasp. Rae hadn't even noticed she was empty-handed.

"Point – and fan – taken."

He didn't return it, but created a gentle breeze as they strolled through the crowd.

"I miss fans. The prime minister passed a law forbidding men fans and jewellery just to upset me. Do you know there's a whole fan language?"

"I mostly use my fan to cover the evil twins." She made a gesture bosomward. "I call them Cruella and Maleficent."

His dark eyes danced over the red-stained edge of the snow-white fan. "You need a considerably bigger fan. No, really. Secret messages can be relayed with this. If I twirl it in my left hand—" the fan pirouetted from palm to palm "—it means ‘we are watched'. If I twirl the fan in my right hand, I mean ‘I love another'. You can also use the fan to deliver the cuts direct, indirect, sublime and infernal, which are all deadly insults. There are many ways to cast shade in the Palace on the Edge."

"This is such a welcoming place."

She found the atmosphere in the Ballroom of Sighs oppressive. Rae had intended everyone to look at her, but—everyone was looking at her. The collective weight of eyes slid over her bared flesh heavy as hands. Lady Rahela had many admirers and many enemies. Like the body and the dress, they were Rae's now.

The Cobra was beside her, but he was lost to this fantasy world. Even within it, she knew him for a villain. She hadn't forgotten Marius describing the Cobra's ruin of a young man. The Cobra had admitted it. He said he enjoyed it. He seemed kind, but she couldn't rely on him. She could count only on her own wicked self.

She sought comfort in a scheme. "Let's run through our plan one last time. The king officially declares Vasilisa and Lia his ladies-in-waiting. Duty compels him to ask Vasilisa to dance, despite being dazzled by Lia in her new gown."

The Cobra seemed certain of every detail about his favourite scene. Rae had suggested warning Lia that spiteful rivals who were never identified planned to ruin her dress. The Cobra utterly forbade her to do any such thing. He was set on Lia wearing the surprise gown sent by the Last Hope.

"I still think we should have told Lia."

"It's Marius's first ever romantic gesture!" the Cobra protested. "Don't ruin this for me. Besides, it's a key part of our scheme that Lia comes in late."

Rae sighed and nodded. "Before the first set we create a scene to get in position, close enough to snatch the keys. All eyes are on us… until Lia's big entrance."

"She floats down the stairs looking like an early morning sky, pale and clear with stars still lingering against the clouds—"

Rae mimed puking. The Cobra hit her with her own fan.

" Et tu , bestie," Rae grumbled. "Brutal."

The Cobra continued firmly, "Marius will feel struck by beautiful lightning and fall in love at first sight."

"Is he a love-at-first-sight kind of guy?"

Now she'd met the Last Hope, she was experiencing doubts. Marius Valerius didn't inspire warm feelings. He inspired frostbite of the soul.

The Cobra glared. "He's absolutely a love-at-first-sight kind of guy."

"Didn't he see Lia when we got attacked by ghouls?"

The Cobra's glare intensified. "I didn't invite your rain to my parade. While the king is distracted by Lia, we snatch the key to the royal greenhouse and split up. The king dances with Vasilisa. Lia is left forlorn. Then the whole court is electrified by Marius – who never asks anybody to dance – sweeping Lia onto the dance floor and the romantic moonlit balcony."

He gave a happy sigh behind his stolen fan.

"Use the sensation to slip out and get the key copied," Rae reminded the Cobra urgently. "That's a key part of our key scheme. Don't focus on romance to the detriment of the plot."

Her plot had to go perfectly. They had only weeks. If they got the key, Rae would sleep with it under her pillow until she woke in her own world, to the sunrise of her sister's face.

The ballroom was larger than the throne room, and the only stateroom without a mosaic. The floor was hematite, iridescent black stone gleaming beneath their feet as though they stood on a moonless night sky. The ceiling was arched glass, with shards of mirror rather than transparent panes. Most mirrors in the palace were bronze, but these were costly glass. Some mirrors had cracked so the reflected ballroom scene was strangely distorted. The bright costumes against the dark floor were lent a silver sheen, as though the whole court was suspended in mercury. Rae's gown stood out vivid as a bloodstain.

The Cobra chucked her reassuringly under the chin with her fan. "Stick with me, grasshopper, and you'll be fine. I've never missed a cue in my life. Let me introduce you to my book club."

He returned the fan and looped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close in a warm solid circle. The Golden Cobra helped run a literary salon where court intellectuals discussed plays, poetry and art. The members of the salon, sitting in chairs of gilt and spun glass, seemed startled to see Rahela.

The Cobra led Rae to a low-backed settee, embroidered with kingfishers and larks. He gestured to the lady and gentleman near the settee. The lady had ostrich feathers adorning her tower of twisted locs, jet and ivory bangles chattering on her arms. The gentleman was dressed entirely in violet.

"Zenobia, Fabianus, you know Lady Rahela."

"Charmed?" The gentleman in violet sounded uncertain.

He wore a blank expression, but that might just be his face. It wasn't entirely vacant. Dragons were painted on his countenance in clear imitation of the Cobra, a pink dragon on his left cheek, a blue one on his right, and a tiny purple dragon between his eyebrows. Dragons suited the Cobra better.

Lady Zenobia of the ivory bangles was silent. She seemed certain she wasn't charmed.

It was a relief when the king rose and made his address to the court. Everyone focused their attention on Octavian. He was worth looking at. Sable lent breadth to his shoulders, furs a dark waterfall behind him. He had forgone the crowned mask and clawed gloves, and didn't need them to give him a regal air. If Rae squinted, she could almost see the Emperor.

The king's voice rang from darkly gleaming floor to silver-arched ceiling. "My beloved court, I present the Princess Vasilisa."

Princess Vasilisa wore a large golden diadem, whirls of gold set with heavy pearls that were no doubt priceless but looked bulgy and pallid. Dark rich fabric swathed her from chin to feet. Her throat appeared to be wearing a corset. Sandwiched between diadem and dress was Vasilisa's face, appearing pasted on by mistake.

Octavian's smile suggested only courteous welcome. His eyes skipped behind Vasilisa, searching for the vision of loveliness that was Lia .

"Princess, I speak for the entire country when I say how glad we are to receive you."

Vasilisa's voice was tranquil. "I am glad to be here."

She didn't appear dazzled by Octavian's beauty. Maybe she wasn't the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. Or maybe it would take Octavian longer to win Vasilisa's heart this time.

"We issue an invitation for you to join our ladies-in-waiting-to-be-queen. It is an honour never before offered to anyone outside Eyam. We hope you will accept."

"Thank you." Vasilisa's voice remained tranquil. "We refuse to be honoured in this way."

The collective hiss of the court rose to a whine that might reduce the mirrored ceiling to dust. King Octavian's hand, extended in regal invitation, twitched.

Prime Minister Pio gave an unctuous hiss. "Your Highness! You can't understand what being a lady-in-waiting entails. Allow me to explain."

"I do not enjoy when men explain things to me," said Vasilisa. "I was already enlightened by a lady-in-waiting."

Rae slid down low on the settee. "Oh shit."

"What did you do ," the Golden Cobra whisper-wailed in Rae's ear.

Oblivious to the havoc she was wreaking in the story and Rae's poor heart, Princess Vasilisa continued, "When two countries seek alliance, both must learn the customs of the other. In my land, if a man wishes to marry a woman, he singles her out for special attention. To be asked to join a crowd is an insult. Your Majesty, this must be a cultural misunderstanding. You cannot wish to offer insult to my country."

Despite Rae's despair, she couldn't help a smirk. Princess Vasilisa was good.

So was Octavian. He turned smoothly on a dime. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement agreeable to both countries. I simply wish to do you honour in any way possible. Forgive me. Let us negotiate later. Favour me with your hand for the opening dance."

Rae guessed royals were trained to smooth out any social situation that went lumpy. Vasilisa inclined her heavily jewelled head. Octavian spun on his heel, back to his ministers.

The crowd ebbed away from Vasilisa, leaving her in her own private island of solitude. In the original story, the princess was swarmed by toadies. In the original story Vasilisa hadn't turned their king down flat. A black-haired beauty in armour started forward, but stilled at a glare from her princess. She must be Vasilisa's second bodyguard, fated to be the midnight guardian beside her queen's throne. Rae hoped this one would survive. If Rae recalled correctly, her name was Ziyi. Key, standing beside Ziyi, whispered in her ear and Ziyi's stern expression relaxed slightly.

Now Rae knew Key was up for meaningless villainous kissing, perhaps Ziyi was next. She had a faint sour taste in her mouth at the thought, but Key should have his fun before he died for Lia.

"Let's help the princess," Rae whispered.

The Cobra squawked like an offended chicken. "No more story interference."

"This is all my fault—"

The Golden Cobra cast one glance at Vasilisa, standing alone in a crowd with her shoulders squared, and melted like ice cream in hell.

He waved, a golden beacon impossible to miss. "Your Highness, join us."

When Vasilisa's eye fell upon Rae, her lips curved in a half-smile. She made her way to them and settled on a gilt-and-glass chair, folding her capable-looking hands in her satin lap.

Since they were fixing the story and the Ice Queen's infatuation with Octavian led to ice raiders attacking the capital, Rae thought she should check in on Vasilisa's feelings regarding His Majesty. "Hello there. See any gentlemen you fancy?"

"Well." Princess Vasilisa blushed, then ventured a whisper in Rae's ear. "You can't help noticing him across the room, can you?"

So she was still into Octavian. Guys with great bone structure could get away with anything.

A hush descended. The literary salon was seldom at a loss for words, but they'd just been hit with a scarlet siren and a foreign princess in under five minutes.

The gentleman in violet leaned forward. "We haven't been properly introduced, Your Highness, on account of you being recently arrived from across the turbulent sea. But I must thank you and Lady Rahela for what you did for the Horrors."

Vasilisa looked politely baffled.

Rae was less polite. "The what now?"

"M'sisters," he elaborated. "Hortensia and Horatia. The twins, don't you know. It's a pet name. Affectionate, I assure you! Unless Hortensia scolds me before breakfast. I'm so grumpy before breakfast, I believe I keep my good mood in among the scrambled eggs. Fabianus Nemeth at your service."

Lord Fabianus, the older brother Horatia had mentioned. The eldest son and heir of the commander general. Fabianus, lemon blond and slender, was as similar to the twins as he was utterly unlike that burly salt-and-pepper warrior, his father.

"You're the brother who refused the magical gauntlets."

Lord Fabianus nodded. "Horry did far better than I could have. I would have swooned in her place. That's me: bloody useless. Awful trial for the family. M'baby brother Tycho is my father's consolation. Very fond of fighting. And clever as anything! Like the Horrors. Afraid I'm the fool of the family."

This dire proclamation didn't seem to bother him. Fabianus was an extremely minor character, mostly seen hanging out with his sisters and criticizing other girls' dresses. Ministers sneered at General Nemeth about his disappointing heir. Many readers thought Lord Fabianus was obviously gay. Alice said that was an offensive stereotype.

Rae didn't remember Fabianus ever actually doing anything villainous. A guy was allowed to discuss fashion with his sisters.

"How is Lady Hortensia's wound?" Vasilisa inquired.

Fabianus's hopeful smile dimmed. "We hope she'll mend. I thank you for asking."

There was another silence.

"Forgive me for bringing up a painful subject," Vasilisa's voice was strained. "I'm still growing used to the ways of Eyam, and I can sometimes be a trifle awkward in society."

The Cobra patted her tightly folded hands. "You're doing great."

Fabianus nodded vigorously. "You'll learn the ways of Eyam in no time, since you're so clever. You knew exactly what to say to the king. Put it so well that you put him in the wrong. Idiots always enjoy seeing other people being clever. What you did was as good as a play."

Zenobia shook her beautiful ostrich-feathered head. "Have a care, Fabianus."

"Are you disagreeing with me?"

Zenobia lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I didn't say that."

In Rae's experience, idiots didn't enjoy seeing other people be clever at all.

A small but real smile touched Vasilisa's compressed lips. "Thank you, Lord Fabianus. I studied to be a diplomat. International relations are my passion."

"Gosh," murmured Fabianus. He was either impressed or terrified, Rae wasn't sure which.

The Cobra abruptly seized her fan and her attention. Rae turned to see him twirl the fan in his left hand so hard it blurred in the air like a bloodstained ghost. The pointed, unmistakable gesture meant We are watched .

It was lucky the Cobra had taken her fan, since Rae went numb with panic down to her fingertips. She huddled beside him, both peering over the fan at their doom. A towering white-clad figure loomed amidst the courtiers' rainbow array of costumes, pristine and lonely as an ice-bound cliff.

"Marius," murmured the Cobra. "He's feeling shy."

"He's looking murderous!" Rae hissed back.

She couldn't be the Cobra, lost in a story and obsessing over characters' wellbeing. She was the one who mattered. She was getting out alive.

Her odds didn't look good. The plan was to steal the king's keys in the next five minutes. The Last Hope was bearing down on them now.