34. Dagmara

“Forgive me,” Dagmara said under her breath in Azuremi, praying that the Celesta man standing before her didn’t speak Azuremi, and in the event that he did, her voice was barely more than a whisper.

She needed a reasonable excuse. Claude wouldn’t believe her if she said she didn’t remember Celesta. Her mind raced with excuses until one finally came to mind.

“I mainly learned Celesta with my father…and I…” the crack in her voice wasn’t fake at least. The reminder of Bogdan’s death was ever present in her memory.

Claude nodded, seeming to understand almost immediately. He returned his attention to the Celesta man, switching his language. “At least at this event, let us speak Ilusaurian.” Claude’s voice was beautiful in his native language, making Dagmara realize he nearly always spoke Azuremi for her.

“Of course,” the Celesta man said in Ilusaurian, his accent thick, making it harder for her to translate. He repeated his introduction to Dagmara, “I’m Reon Ogawa, spearhead of the Celesta militia.”

Not only was this man Celesta, he held one of the most influential positions in the kingdom.

“Thank you for coming,” Claude said, without the slightest bit of malice. In fact, they both seemed amicable with one another.

Reon smiled. “If you need anything at all Princess, you have a friend in Celestaire.”

“Thank you.”

Then Reon shifted his attention to the king and said something in Celesta. They could say anything they wanted in front of her, and she would have no idea.

Reon gave Dagmara one more smile before he departed, making his way into the crowd. Dagmara didn’t have a chance to ask what was said before another man approached.

“His Majesty, Claude Mirage,” the stranger said, his voice boisterous. He was middle-aged, but his hair was pure white. He had a stocky frame, and a monocle hung from a pocket on his chest. “This is the longest you have remained in public for a long time. I see she is bringing you out of your shell.”

“I am still in the confines of my palace, Lionel.”

Lionel flashed him a twisted smile. Then he reached for Dagmara’s hand. “Princess, I am governor of the southern province. The name is Lionel Floquet.”

Dagmara was startled at the sound of the name. This was the man Martine mentioned…the only person other than Claude who could manipulate citizenships and create false aliases for the assassins that crossed into Azurem.

“One of four governors,” Claude added, “A crucial position to the security of this kingdom, and a liaison between me and my provinces.”

Dagmara knew Claude was informing her that this man was immensely important, and she was required to be on her best behavior. She let him take her gloved palm, and he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Governor.”

“We are honored to have this alliance. I’m sure His Majesty has informed you about the food shortage?” Lionel asked.

In Claude’s words, it was a famine that began when his parents died.

“Yes he has. My heart goes out to your people,” Dagmara replied.

“Of course, the drought seems to stay away from the palace,” Lionel continued. “You have plenty here.”

“Do you have something to say, Lionel?” Claude asked, his tone stern.

“Nothing, Your Majesty,” Lionel dipped his head, “simply that I look forward to Azurem’s surplus of food. That is part of the alliance, is it not?”

“It is,” Dagmara stated.

“And will the people be visiting the castle to retrieve their rations?”

“No,” Claude responded.

“Hmm,” Lionel frowned, “still can’t show your face to your people, I see.”

“That is not the reason,” Claude said, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. “Only able-bodied citizens would be able to make the trek to the castle. I will not force my people to choose between their food and their safety.”

Dagmara didn’t know why Claude’s reasoning surprised her as much as it did. She never thought about who would or wouldn’t be able to pick up rations from the castle. Yet, Claude was already considering those with health ailments that couldn’t make the commitment. Claude was considering people that didn’t have money for a carriage and had to walk miles to reach the castle. He was considering people…like her.

“So only you will reap the benefits of Azurem’s food, I see,” Lionel said, his tone surprisingly jovial for the intensity of the conversation. “Hoarding it at the palace as you’ve been doing for the past decade.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Claude’s hands turn to fists.

Dagmara rose from her chair, unfortunately too quickly. Dizziness threatened to drag her back down, but she ignored the stars dancing in her vision. “I don’t believe this is the appropriate time for this conversation, Governor,” she said, “but if you must know, we plan on delivering food to each province and letting the governors handle the distribution from there.”

Lionel’s jaw seemed to drop from his mouth. “Delivering? So you two will make an appearance?” His eyes flashed with wonder as he looked to the king for confirmation.

Claude seemed unable to respond, his fist beginning to shake.

Dagmara took his hand in hers, relaxing his fist and forcing him to interlace his fingers with hers—also using him as a crutch in case her dizziness intensified. “We are still working through the details, Governor.”

If there was a way she could get to the capital of Sailonne and investigate Lionel under the guise of helping Ilusauri, she would do it. She had to find out more about the three Ilusaurian assassins who supposedly didn’t exist.

“O-Of course,” Lionel dipped his head. He glanced down at their intertwined hands. “We are abundantly gracious to you, Princess. You don’t know how much it means to the citizens to see their king in person. It has been far too long. Ilusauri is indebted to you.” With one last bow, Lionel excused himself, venturing into the crowd.

Dagmara tried to withdraw her hand, but Claude held onto her steadfast. “What was that for?” Claude said under his breath.

“I was helping you,” Dagmara replied. She yanked her hand from his grip and sat back down, exhaling.

It seemed like a century before the line finally ended. Afterward, performers arrived, taking the center of the floor and performing dances and acrobatics. Dessert was served, which Claude adamantly denied.

“If you wait for the caramel tarts, they have salt on them, hopefully shaved to your liking. My chefs seem to be confused by your Azuremi customs,” Claude said under his breath.

Dagmara shot him a confused expression. She accepted the chocolate tart, questioning Claude’s denial. “You don’t like dessert?”

“I don’t like eating near someone who tried to poison me,” he growled.

Dagmara nearly dropped the tart, shock rippling through her body. Did he think she was responsible for the poisoned wine the other day on the terrace? What happened to the facade they were putting on? He had seemed enraptured by her during their dance, and now he seemed upset with her. Was the dance all another illusion?

“Excuse me,” he said before dismissing himself. His tone was still on edge. What had happened to the king from earlier?

She watched Claude carefully. He maneuvered around a few guests, entranced by the dancers in the center of the room. Then he found Reon, the soldier from Celestaire.

Claude and the soldier spoke quickly, their bodies directly facing one another. It was not a conversation they wanted other people to be a part of. Then, Sabien came out of the crowd and joined them. With a wave of his hand, the king ushered them to follow. The trio disappeared under an alcove and into the hallway beyond.

Rising from her seat, Dagmara made a straight path to where the king, the captain, and the soldier disappeared. She dropped her uneaten dessert in the hands of a servant. There was something strange in the way the king and the soldier interacted…there was something more between them. And what did the king and the captain have to tell someone from Celestaire in secret?

She could sense instantly that Martine was on her tail. Dagmara wished the guard would give her space, but knew if she asked, it would only seem suspicious. She slipped into the alcove, dodging the watching eye of Madame Annette.

She could hear the trio’s footsteps receding down the corridor. She knew how to follow someone. Instantly tapping into her training, she slipped into the shadows, careful not to be caught. They were talking to one another in Ilusaurian, but they were too far away to hear. She continued to trail them, hearing Martine behind her, clearly not as skilled in quietly following someone. Then the trio disappeared into a room, closing the door behind them.

Dagmara dashed across the hall, pressing her ear against the wood, catching them in the middle of their conversation.

“Are they still in hiding?” Claude asked.

“Yes,” Reon replied. “Guardian Sora knows someone is onto her.”

Claude cursed under his breath. “But you know where she is?”

“Of course,” Reon replied before adding, “Your Majesty, your troops can’t proceed any further without raising more alarm. Let me handle it from here.”

“You don’t know what you’re looking for,” Claude countered.

“And you do?” Reon countered.

“Watch your tone, Reon.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.”

A new voice startled Dagmara. “Princess.” It was Martine, a few paces behind her. “I’m not comfortable eavesdropping on the king.”

“Then go,” Dagmara replied. “I didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“Princess—”

“Shhh!” Dagmara scolded, waving her hand at Martine. Then she pressed her ear against the door once more.

“Ilusauri is taken care of, we’re almost through Celestaire, and Azurem?” Reon asked. “How is your progress there?”

“No territory under our control yet.” That voice was Sabien’s. He remained calm, as though he were required to be at this meeting. Was he a part of whatever scheme Claude and Reon were a part of? Or was he obligated to be there as Captain of the Ilusaurian guard?

“Wasn’t that the point of this marriage?” Reon asked.

“I’m working on it,” Claude countered.

“Have you at least gotten anything out of her?”

“Not yet,” Claude replied.

“Why not?”

There was a lull in the conversation. Dagmara pressed her cheek against the wood, desperate to hear their words.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for her,” Reon said.

“Of course not. She’s done nothing but create problems since her arrival.”

“What about Flaustra?”

Dagmara felt a pit in her stomach. That’s where Magdalena was. What was Claude’s plan with Flaustra?

There was more silence. Had she missed something? Then she heard footsteps. They were coming toward her.

She quickly straightened her posture, reaching her hand up to feign knocking moments before the door flung open. Sabien stood in the threshold, eyeing Dagmara suspiciously.

“Oh, hello,” she said, flashing a smile. She lowered her hand. “I was just coming to find the king. Is he in there?” She rose on her tiptoes, looking over Sabien’s shoulder. She saw Claude, leaning over a desk, his head hanging.

“Now is not a good time,” Sabien said.

She shoved past Sabien, ignoring him, and welcomed herself into the room. If they were going to talk about Azurem, she had every right to be there.

“You left me all alone out there,” she began, trying to remain inconspicuous. She didn’t want them to know she had been eavesdropping.

“I know you can handle yourself fine,” Claude replied. He didn’t meet her gaze, and she couldn’t determine if he was annoyed by her presence or not.

“Reon,” Dagmara noticed him, backlit by a moonlit window, wide open to let a cool draft in. “Lovely to see you. I must admit I didn’t realize Ilusauri and Celestaire had such a strong alliance.”

Reon dipped his head. “Celestaire is slow to accept relations with Ilusauri, but at least Claude and my relationship is strong,” he replied. “I look forward to getting to know you and the rest of Azurem.”

Something flashed behind Reon. The outline was barely visible in the dark sky, but a figure manifested, flying in and landing on the windowsill.

Dagmara felt a wash of uneasiness as she stared at the blackbird. Its beady eyes pierced her soul, almost mocking her.

“Sabien,” Dagmara said, “I think it’s time Reon returned to the party. Could you escort him?”

Reon’s eyes narrowed. He followed her gaze over his shoulder, unable to see the bird in the window, before looking at Sabien, confusion plastered on his face.

“That’s inconsiderate, Princess,” Claude said, looking up at her. His tone was strained, attempting not to argue in front of their guest. He was still angry at her for something, though she couldn’t determine what.

Dagmara felt a pit in her stomach. “Martine,” she ordered, raising her voice.

Martine passed Sabien, coming to stand beside Dagmara. “Yes, Princess?”

“Take Reon back to the party.”

The room was strung with tension. Everyone remained utterly still, waiting for Claude to give the final word.

Then the blackbird let out a caw, its tone like a nail to Dagmara’s temple. She winced, nearly covering her ears. Everyone saw Claude snap his head in the direction of the window, his demeanor shifting from annoyance to violence. He gripped the table, the papers on the desk crumpling under his fingers.

“Now, Martine,” Dagmara commanded.

Suddenly on alert, Martine rushed forward, taking Reon by the arm. “This way, sir.”

The blackbird took flight into the room, sweeping across the study toward a bookshelf on the opposite side. Claude covered his face, dropping behind the desk moments before the blackbird flew past his head.

The king picked up a chair, chucking it toward the bookshelf. It shattered against the shelf in an alarming snap, books and papers flying everywhere. “Get out!” Claude yelled. The bird gracefully flew from the top of the bookcase, rounding the outside of the room, sounding another ear-piercing screech.

Reon glanced over his shoulder. “Your Majesty?” he called in shock. Martine yanked him out of the room, and they disappeared into the corridor.

The bird would not land, circling the room like it was circling prey. It dove for Dagmara, and she didn’t have a chance to defend herself in time. It raked its claws down her cheek, and an excruciating sting pierced her skin.

She grabbed her cheek, but there was no blood. There was no mark. Her skin was perfectly smooth. Was this all a trick of the mind too?

The bird dove for the king next, and Claude raised both hands, igniting the walls in flame.

Dagmara braced herself, collapsing to the ground and covering her face with her arms. The entire perimeter of the room was engulfed in flames. Fire stretched up the walls as though they were trapped in a circle.

But there was no heat. It was all a trick of the mind. He was trying to defend himself from the blackbird. She touched her cheek once more, feeling no mark. Was the blackbird real or an illusion?

“Your Majesty!” she called. This needed to end.

That’s when someone grabbed her under the arms and lifted her to her feet. Sabien was pulling her toward the exit.

“Let go of me!” Dagmara screeched, yanking out of his grip.

The blackbird swooped toward Claude, threatening to peck out his eyes. Claude ducked once more before grabbing a broken leg of the chair and chucking it toward the soaring bird. It whizzed past Dagmara, clattering against the fiery wall, but never ignited.

“Claude, stop!” she pleaded.

Sabien wrapped his arm around her waist, picking her up. She couldn’t fight him as he dragged her from the room and slammed the door behind them. He pressed her against the wall, blocking her from making an escape.

“You can’t stop him when he turns into this,” Sabien said.

Dagmara was trapped between his chest and the stone wall behind her. She could hear Claude’s screams from inside the study and the crashing of more furniture.

“How did you know?” Sabien asked.

She wasn’t listening to him. Her breathing was ragged as she cupped her cheek with her hand. Nothing. The bird left no mark even though she had felt the pain. She could still feel the pain.

Sabien grabbed her chin and yanked her head to look at him. “How did you know he was turning?”

“I didn’t,” she lied.

“You told Reon to leave the room. You knew before the king. How?”

“Didn’t you see…” her voice ran dry when she saw his expression flicked with doubt.

“See what?”

Nothing. Nobody else could see the bird, which was made clear by Pierre who rescued her from the balcony on the first day. How was that even possible? Why was she the only other person that could see it?

She shook her head, yanking out of Sabien’s grip. She shoved her palms into his chest, trying to escape. He backed away from her on his own, for there was no way she was strong enough to push him.

“What did you see?” Sabien repeated.

“Nothing,” she said under her breath. She turned away from him, starting off down the corridor. She didn’t plan on returning to the party. She wanted to disappear.

Fortunately, Sabien didn’t follow her. He remained by the door, waiting for the king to calm down, letting the king fight his mind on his own.

Whatever afflicted the king seemed to torment her too. And if he was a Mad King…what did that make her?