Flecks of Gold (27 page)

“I hope you have no intentions toward Breeohan,” she said in a deadly tone.

“Get a grip, Avana.” I didn’t feel like saying more because my head was throbbing again. I fixed the headache with a lacing. It wouldn’t be smart to get into a battle with Avana when I already had a headache.

“What does that mean? That makes no sense,” she said contemptuously.

“It means you’re a head case. I’m not trying to steal Breeohan from you, so stop blaming your insecurities on me.” I hoped to make her mad enough to go away.

“I am not a fool, Princess. I saw how you looked at him on the dance floor. But you will not have him. I will expose you for the fraud you are, and then the only thing that will touch that pretty throat of yours is the kiss of steel as it cuts through your neck.” She turned with a whoosh of fabric toward a young man a few feet away. I watched as she batted her eyes prettily at the man, as if she had not just threatened my life, or as if life threats were common, not to be dwelled on. A chill ran down my spine in a trickle of sweat.

I had no idea her malice ran so deep, and I knew that she could prove me to be a fraud because I was one, and all the magic in the world would do me no good then.

When Breeohan finally returned, I had no appetite for the food he laid before me, though the water was a welcome balm to the desert sand lodged in my throat. He sat and furrowed his brows. I knew he was concerned, but I couldn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“What time can I leave the ball without offending anyone?” I asked.

“Not for portions yet. I’m sorry,” he replied.

“I don’t know if you should hang around, Breeohan. Go ask your love to dance or something. She needs some reassurance that you’re hers.” I watched Avana twirl in the dance with the other young man. She kept darting glances in my direction.

“She’s not my love and has no claim on me.” His anger made me glance at his face in surprise. “Why do you do that?” he asked vehemently.

I was confused. “Do what?”

“Push me at Zefa Avana,” he said.

“I don’t. I mean, I got the impression that you two were pretty close before, and I certainly know that she wants to be closer to you. You like her, or you wouldn’t have blushed when I teased you. I really think it would be best if you let her know that you like her, so that . . .” I stopped myself just in time. He wouldn’t believe Avana had threatened me.

“So that what?” he demanded.

“Nothing. Hey, is this chocolate? I have been dying for some chocolate ever since I got to Iberloah.” I looked carefully at the plate of food I’d ignored before.

“No. I don’t know what chocolate is, but that is not going to work, Your Highness. So that what?” He glared at me so hard I could feel it even as I studied the plate of treats.

“Are you really telling me there’s no chocolate here?” I asked in misery. He just kept staring, not answering.

I sighed. “Fine. Avana just threatened to expose me as an imposter so my head would be chopped off.”

“She did not. Avana doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body.”

I was suddenly furious. “See, I knew you would never believe me! I’ll have you know your little cream puff of perfection can be quite cruel to those she dislikes.”

“I can’t believe it. I have never seen her be cruel.” He sounded confused.

“I’m sorry, but if you can’t see how completely stupid that statement was, you deserve what you get. I hope you two have a happy life together.” Though I had serious doubts that they would ever be happy once marriage forced Breeohan to see who Avana really was.

I stood up swiftly and headed to the nearest young man. “May I have the honor of the next dance with you?” I asked him. Breeohan was too proper to yell at me to come back, but I could feel his gaze on me. I looked up and noticed Avana looking toward me as well. She had a slight smile on her face. My anger burned hotter, and I had to force myself to concentrate on the proper pleasantries of beginning a dance with someone.

One young man blurred into the next until I found myself facing the king again. As soon as we were a little more isolated, I asked, “When can I stop, Your Majesty? I’m really afraid that I’m going to collapse if I don’t take this torture device off my head.”

“You’re hiding it well,” he said.

“I figured it would be a good idea to hide my discomfort, considering what’s at stake.”

“It is true there are some dangers, but you are under my protection. Don’t worry too much, just stay alert,” he said.

“That’s what I am trying to do,” I said, sighing.

The dance ended. “Just dance three more dances and after the performance given by Zefa Aria and her musicians, you may bow out gracefully.” It was all he was able to say before a mob of eager young women swallowed him up.

I turned to find another partner, or if I could, escape to a table, when Doln Rafan approached in a resplendent outfit of gold material with aqua embroidery that made his eyes flare. His lips curled upward as he held out his hand in invitation.

My responses were by this time automatic. I smiled pleasantly, bowed, and took his hand as he led me to the dance floor, all the while thinking, “Only three more dances then I am done, done, done.”

“You look lovely this evening, Princess,” Rafan said.

“Thank you.”
Almost done, done, done.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you and Breeohan seemed to have some unpleasantness between you this evening. He is a fool to discard such exquisite beauty.”

Done, do— What?
Thrown from my chant, I tried to recall what I’d missed.

“I hope you will not think all Iberloahan men are such brutes,” he added.

“Oh, I don’t. I think it’s bad policy to judge an entire people on the few I’ve met,” I said. I could see he wasn’t sure how to take that statement.

“And are we all so bad?” he asked coyly.

“Of course not.” I knew what he was fishing for, but I didn’t feel in the mood to flirt. It was too much work.

“Poor princess, you have had a rough time here, haven’t you?”

I deemed that unworthy of a response, but he took my silence as acquiescence.

“I see you do not wish to complain, but it tears my heart that I can do nothing to ease your burden. Perhaps . . .” He trailed off, baiting me.

I was actually a little curious about what he was up to, so I took the worm. “Perhaps what, Doln Rafan?” I batted my eyes in what I thought was obvious sarcasm. I guess not.

“You must know how much I love you, Princess,” he said.

I was floored.

He continued. “If you married me, you would be protected. You would have real status. No one could hurt you,” he whispered in my ear. He actually sounded and looked sincere. I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was open and close my mouth like a fish.

“Don’t answer now, just think about it, and know I will come whenever you call for me.” The dance ended, and Rafan gave me a yearning look before disappearing into the crowd. But his gravelly words stayed with me. What was with this guy? I didn’t understand him. Did he really love me? I had been pretty sure he was just a lady’s man, a courtly flirt full of flowery nonsense, but had I misread him?

I accepted the training general’s next invitation in a haze of confusion, too deep in thought to pay much attention, so when the dance ended, it took me a moment to understand that he was asking if I needed to sit down.

“You seem dazed, Mary. Can I get you a drink or lead you to a chair?”

“What? I’m sorry, Training General, I’m not quite feeling myself. It would be nice to sit down.”

He led me to the same table I had sat at with Breeohan, but I stopped him before he could leave. “Would you mind sitting with me?” I didn’t want to be trapped into any more odd or unpleasant conversations this evening. “How goes the search for my mother?” I asked, hoping desperately for a breakthrough so I could just leave the palace and not have to worry about death threats or marriage proposals.

“We continue to search.” He avoided my eyes. That was weird. In the little time I’d known him, he had never sounded so shifty before. But then, it had been a long night. I was already on emotional overload, so there was no trusting my observational skills at the moment. We watched the dancers in silence until the music ended.

There was a sudden hush as the king stood on the dais and announced, “Zefa Aria and her faithful troupe of musicians have prepared a special musical number for your enjoyment.” His expression was carefully neutral.

Everyone turned to the musician’s stand in expectation. I heard a few titters, and then stunned silence hit the crowd as a large drum boomed in syncopated rhythm, followed by the wail of a bassoonlike instrument that flew over the scales in a wild manner, barely staying with the drumbeat. Next, a plucked instrument entered the musical fray, twanging away while a rattle shook in opposition to the drum.

I loved it. It was so unlike the stuffy, flat music I’d been listening to all evening, but the people around me went rigid with alarm and embarrassment. A woman near me winced when Zefa Aria started singing in a controlled wail that jumped and flowed with the instruments. I thought it was beautiful and intriguing but quickly saw that I was the only one. I felt sorry for Aria and her band; they were playing to the wrong audience.

When the song finished, a collective sigh spread through the room. No one clapped. I wasn’t sure if people clapped here so I didn’t either, but my sympathy for Aria rose a notch. I decided to stay just a little longer so that I could tell her how much I enjoyed her performance. I wanted more than anything to leave, but no one deserved such a cold reception to what had obviously taken a lot of preparation.

I excused myself from Sogran and stood to look for Zefa Aria. Halfway to the musicians someone stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

I sighed. “Leave me alone, Avana. You saw the fight Breeohan and I got into. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

“How could you think I would be happy about that? I feel so horrible and responsible somehow, though I truly don’t know what I did to make you two fight. Will you please forgive me?” Avana asked.

What? That didn’t sound like the Avana I knew and loathed. I looked around and, sure enough, saw Breeohan within hearing range trying not to look like he was listening. What a little snake. If I told her off now it would look like I was making the whole thing up. She was certainly a sneaky devil, and I was at a loss as to what I should do. Finally, I decided I didn’t care.

“You feel guilt? I didn’t think it was in your nature, especially during moments of triumph. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said. Avana’s eyes glinted happily before she moved aside and began a brilliant performance of the poor, snubbed maiden only trying to be kind and loving to those who, for no reason that she could see, hated her. She even shed a few tears. Breeohan, of course, strode to her side to lend comfort, but not before a brief hesitation when he looked from Avana to me in confusion.

I strode on toward the musicians, who were carefully packing up their instruments in hard leather cases. Zefa Aria was with her husband, putting away the large plucked instrument. But she turned when she noticed my approach.

“I just wanted to thank you for your beautiful music. I thought it was wonderful,” I said.

She looked close to tears. Her husband rested a soothing hand on her shoulders. At my words, however, her face glowed. “Did you really? It took us ages to find the manuscripts that described the instruments’ original forms, and then we only had fragmented music to work with, so we had to do some guessing and arranging to get it to what we think was the principal sound of the music. But,” her face fell again, “no one seemed to like it.”

“Well, I did. I could tell you put a lot of work into the performance. It was the best thing I heard all evening.” I acted over-enthusiastic to make up for the lack from everyone else.

“Oh, thank you, Princess. I can’t tell you how much it means to hear someone of your superb lineage say something like that to me.”

“Yes, well.” A stab of conscience smote me. “I hope to hear you again.” I bowed and headed for the stairs and door as fast as my aching feet allowed.

Once in my room I couldn’t wait for Sentai’s slow and careful ministrations. I tore at my hair until the crown headpiece came free, and performed the lacing to fix my headache. Only then did I feel well enough to let Sentai finish undressing me at a slower pace.

After I was disrobed, I tried to perform a cleaning lacing, but was too tired to complete it. In my emotionally fatigued state, this fact almost brought on a melt-down and made me realize how dependent on lacing magic I’d become. I had to wait for Sentai to draw up a bath, all the while wishing to just fall asleep, but not wanting to wake up with the mask of makeup still smeared on my face. I crawled into bed after the bath and fell asleep the moment my cheek touched the pillow.

T
he blanket of
warm light that fell across my eyes the next morning was an unwelcomed and unwanted alarm clock. However, I didn’t want to incur the wrath of the training general if I was late, so I got up and had Sentai dress me. I hardly had to remind myself not to fidget as Sentai administered to me. That didn’t mean I liked it any better. Such coddling seemed like a horrible waste of time and energy all around, but I gritted my teeth and bore it to satisfy Sentai’s sense of propriety and avoid any more rumors about my commoner behavior.

My body fought wakefulness even as I meandered to the training grounds. The sun’s gentle warmth so early in the day was like a soft massage on my shoulders and head. I walked even slower, closing my eyes every few steps. So when I entered the practice room to find Sogran still not there, I was rather surprised and relieved. I’d taken longer on my way than I’d intended and was, in fact, late to the training grounds.

I decided to stretch while I waited, then after he still didn’t come, I did some sword warm-ups. Twenty minutes passed. I really started to wonder, so I went through the door into the main practice area. The noise level in this area was substantially different than when I’d first entered. There were only three pairs sparring, with a few hangers-on watching the bouts. I couldn’t see Sogran anywhere.