Burning Glass (19 page)

The emissary advanced down the aisle of parted nobles, his entourage of similarly dressed Estens behind him, until he reached the foot of the emperor’s dais. There, he bowed with a flourish, his hand somersaulting through the air.

The emperor stood and grinned. “Monsieur de Bonpré.” Valko’s horribly affected Esten accent made me bite down a smile. “Welcome to Torchev, the heart of Riaznin.”

Floquart glanced about the room as if it summed up the city. I remembered my amazement when I’d first set eyes on the great hall. It was nothing like the emissary’s expressionless gaze upon the ballroom, an equally dazzling space. Perhaps everything was a blur, and he needed a monocle. “Very charming,” he said, his voice jarringly low in register. I’d expected the high pitch of a bell for how daintily he dressed. But beneath his fussy exterior, I noted his broad shoulders, bulging calves, and large, vein-ridden hands. His aura, above all, demanded respect. I sensed even Valko shared my intimidation, despite the emperor’s puffed-out chest.

“Please be seated,” he said to Floquart. “You must be weary from your journey.” Valko motioned to a pair of servants, who brought forth a silver chair and set it on the vacant side of the throne. I clasped my fingers in my lap, sat up higher on my stool, and tried not to feel spurned.

A wave of disgruntlement echoed from within the Riaznian nobles. Valko had broken protocol twice tonight—first by allowing me on the dais, and second by inviting a foreigner to accompany us.

The emperor was oblivious to everyone’s prejudice, and I carefully let their auras slide off to the fringes of mine. There I kept them in painstaking balance as I endeavored to hold on to all of the skill I had practiced over the past few weeks.

After the emissary was seated, Valko motioned to a servant, who brought forth two goblets on a silver tray. Giving one to Floquart, the emperor took the other in his own hand. As he raised it before the assembly, the orchestra’s grand polonaise came to an abrupt halt. Glancing about the ballroom, I noticed the majority of the guests had procured a cup in anticipation of the emperor’s toast. I turned around for a servant to bring me a glass, but their trays were empty.

“Welcome, lords and ladies of Riaznin, friends from within our borders, as well as friends from beyond!” Valko’s voice bounced off the marble floors. “I will not bore you with a long and arduous speech,” he assured them with a smile. “I know the reason you have come tonight. To celebrate! So drink with me and let the dancing begin!”

The people cheered in unison and tossed back their aqua vitae, sending a jolt of energy up my spine. At the snap of the conductor’s baton, the musicians’ bows crossed their strings to the tune of a cheerful Esten waltz. My palms flared with a zing of panic. Without thinking, I’d promised the emperor a dance,
though I’d never learned more than the skirt-swaying undulations of the Romska. Leaning forward on my stool, I studied the couples as they revolved and revolved and tried to memorize the rhythm of their feet, the position of their hands.

Valko, who had returned to sit on his throne, made a slight movement. I tensed, expecting him to rise again, this time to guide me to the dance floor, but he only shifted closer to Floquart. As they engaged in a private conversation, I slouched with disappointment. How quickly the emperor had disregarded me. I tried to shrug off my frustration. It was just as well. His attentions would be dangerous with so many people watching. Besides, I had more important things to concentrate on.

Turning my attention back to the room of nobles, I studied them, felt their heightened arousal at the occasion of holding someone close in the name of a dance. I cast my awareness deeper for what might be lurking beneath their obvious emotions. I needed to be sure they didn’t bear any danger to the emperor. Fingering the pearls, I willed the sting to keep me grounded as I searched the ballroom for the foreign diplomats.

My gut clenched when I saw them. As Valko had suspected, they were not pleased. Their gazes riveted to the dais where they observed the emperor, deep in conversation with the emissary. Certainly the foreigners had drawn conclusions as to the nature of Valko’s plotting with Estengarde.

I focused in on the diplomats and absorbed every detail of their body language, every twitch of their eyes—anything visual that would help me tune myself to their auras. The surest way
to ascertain their feelings would be by using touch, but I didn’t think Valko would appreciate me wandering around groping his guests tonight. And so I surveyed the foreigners intently, until their frustration formed a hard knot in my stomach. Nevertheless, I was able to loosen it after a few moments’ concentration. It seemed safe then to assume that the diplomats’ upset with the emperor, while enraged, was not lethal.

Relaxing somewhat, I cast my gaze about the room for Anton, first scanning the perimeter where people weren’t dancing. The prince was sensible. If he must attend a ball, he would use his time wisely. He’d discuss the concerns of his province with any noble who might have the means to lend him aid. Perhaps his scheme for Morva’s Eve was nothing more than that.

In my search for the prince, I found Pia at one of the banquet tables. She gave me her promised wink as she refilled a large bowl of aqua vitae. Had she found a moment alone with Yuri? I waited for her to catch my eye again so I could nod him out to her. He stood at attention on the opposite side of the ballroom. But my maid’s gaze was downcast as she mopped up a spill from the table. A nobleman moved in front of her and blocked her from view. Taking a silver cup, the man dipped it into the bowl of spirits. The candlelight glinted off of his amethyst ring. I sucked in my breath. The ring circled his smallest finger.

Could he be the same man who had passed the letter to Anton on our travels? The man with the letter about Morva’s Eve?

As if he sensed I wished to see him better, the man turned around. He looked to be in his midthirties, with a lean but muscular physique and a great mop of wavy hair. All in all, he had the appearance of a brown-petaled flower. I would have passed him off as being gentle in nature if not for his pensive gaze. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes roaming over the couples spinning to the music, until they landed on a specific person.

When I saw who it was, my stomach plummeted to the soles of my satin slippers. Anton was dancing.
Anton
, who took no time for social pleasantries. Aloof, solemn, and pragmatic Anton had his hand on a lady’s waist, her outstretched hand in his. I took in her shining red hair, her rosy complexion, and—above all—her grace as she glided across the marble floor.

Something dark and bitter coalesced inside me. Heat flashed through my veins. Who was this woman that the prince should dance with her and never bat an eye at me unless I barged into his room?

I gritted my teeth and pulled a smug smile to my lips. Anton could dance with as many ladies as it pleased him. Did he think that would distract me from finding out what he was truly up to? If so, he was wrong, for I’d discovered something he meant to keep from me: the nobleman with the silver cup
was
in league with him, as well as Yuri. The nobleman’s ring and the way he’d sought Anton out from the crowd were too suspicious, and I was desperate enough to call anything evidence now.

I laced my fingers together, though every nerve in me begged to launch myself from the dais and confront Anton now.
I needed to keep my cool. If I left the emperor’s side, Valko’s gaze would only follow me. I didn’t want him suspecting anything until I’d discovered what this was about. As maddening as the situation was, I had to wait and keep watch on Anton, Yuri, and the nobleman. With enough patience, I would learn more. Midnight would come. If Anton thought he could protect me from all the palace politics, he was wrong. I wasn’t the naive girl he took me to be, the simpleton he fleetingly tried to rescue from distress. Why couldn’t he be the hero to me in public? Why always behind closed doors?

The emissary laughed at something Valko said, and I glanced sidelong at the emperor, wishing to hear the end of the joke. He muttered it to Floquart, however, not bothering to share it with me. The anger I’d already felt at Anton multiplied as yet another Ozerov brother chose to pretend I didn’t exist. I knew it was ridiculous that I should feel so jilted, but I couldn’t help it. I was Sovereign Auraseer, but I was also a girl who had spent the day being beautified, albeit against my will, a girl who had made very few friends in her life, and now, like any other girl in this ballroom, I wanted to be
seen
. Admired. Talked to. Danced with—as I’d been promised I would be. Instead, though I sat on the dais in a position of esteem beside the emperor, I was trapped here in a cage of my loneliness while all the other guests were at liberty to do whatever they pleased.

My wretchedness and resentment, like yeast beneath a sprinkling of sugar, began to grow and fester. I wanted to burn out of myself all of these desires and dreams other girls had.
When had I begun thinking I was entitled like them? I was an Auraseer. I had no rights, no freedom. Besides, I didn’t deserve happiness. If the Romska were wrong and the gods were real, I would one day find myself in the deepest pit of the underworld for all the wrongs I’d committed. I deserved that punishment. I was darkness personified.

My eyes grew heavy, and my heart beat a slow and tormenting rhythm. My gaze fell to the blue tracery of veins on the emperor’s wrist, where it lay on the arm of his throne. I imagined the sharp edge of a blade pressed there, like the knives Yuliya would use to cut herself. Her flowing blood would match the color of Valko’s velvet sleeve and the carpet beneath his feet.

The waltz ended, and my dark thoughts broke apart. I gave a shaky exhale. I wanted to scrub at my eyes to chase away the images of death and blood, and with them my harrowing guilt. Did I need to torture myself
during
the ball? Couldn’t that wait until afterward when I could be alone with the statue of Feya?

Seeking the nearest method to distract myself
from
myself, I slid closer to Valko, to the command of his aura, and latched on to it as I listened in on his conversation with Floquart de Bonpré.

“When Madame Valois is escorted into Torchev,” Valko said, “it will be magnificent.” He brandished his hand in the air, painting a picture. “She’ll ride in a carriage with ten perfectly matched horses. Four companies of Riaznian cavalry will accompany her, as well as all the high noble lords. Her path will
be paved with roses, and the gates to the palace will open with the heralding of a thousand silver bells.”

My astonishment at the emperor’s words was the distraction I’d been hoping for. Was his marriage to Delphine agreed upon, then—and so soon? The council had arranged to convene with both the emperor and emissary tomorrow afternoon. I’d expected the terms of the union to be bargained upon then, not tonight.

“Delphine dotes on that kind of attention,” Floquart said, his knees crossed over each other in the Esten fashion. He leaned on the armrest with one elbow and motioned for a servant to fan his face. “Though I will share with you her preference for white horses spotted like a leopard. Do you breed such horses here?”

Valko angled himself to match Floquart’s artful posture. “But of course.” Deceit bled from his aura and made my pulse race. He had no idea how to procure such horses. They were native to Estengarde, and I sensed Floquart knew it.

“The Romska trade those horses every summer at Orelchelm,” I said, feeling the need to back Valko, as if a kind gesture could erase all my sins.

Floquart’s brows darted up. I realized too late I’d surely broken a rule of etiquette by trespassing upon their conversation. He squinted one eye at me, and my cheeks burned with a rush of self-consciousness. I hoped it didn’t belong to Valko, that he wasn’t ashamed I’d spoken. If so, he would have heated words with me later—maybe more. My back still twinged with pain from the violence of his last kiss.

The emperor craned his head around to look at me. My gaze flickered to the tendons on his neck, taut like Nadia’s had been when I’d locked her in the east wing of the convent. Had part of me wanted Nadia to die? How often had I imagined strangling her myself and smirked at the thought of her open-eyed, dead stare. Yuliya and I had
laughed
as we’d joked about it. I should have known those secret and murderous thoughts would build until I dared one day to do something reckless about them. I just didn’t realize how many lives that would cost me.

I flinched when Floquart spoke. “What does a young Auraseer know of the gypsies?” he asked. “Didn’t you spend your life in the convent at Ormina?”

My heart hammered as I tried to shake away another flood of horrible thoughts. I refused to look at Valko, for fear he would see the guilt in my countenance. It took me a moment to remember what we were talking about: I had told the emissary where the Romska traded spotted horses. “My brother has a fascination for horses,” I replied. “He wrote letters.” A lie. I had an older brother, but he had died when the Abdarans raided my hometown of Bovallen five years ago. Or so the Romska had told me. I couldn’t remember my brother’s face, either.

The emissary studied me a moment. His gaze dropped to where my shoulder pressed against the emperor’s throne. He turned a scrutinizing look on Valko, as if amazed he tolerated my close proximity. Perhaps Valko shouldn’t, not with someone like me.

Again, that self-consciousness, that shame and darkness,
churned in my belly. I locked my jaw and struggled to prevent another wave of destructive thoughts.

At length, Floquart pursed his lips and fluffed the lace spilling out from the hem of his sleeve. “I trust your laws are severe in regard to the gypsies,” he remarked to the emperor. “They’re a loathsome people, always begging, always on the move. A plague to civilization. Why, Estengarde put quite a number to death a few years ago when their tribes multiplied beyond reason.”

I stared at him in horror. Bile rose in my throat, and my dismal remembrances were forgotten. “How inconvenient for you,” I bit out.