Echoes of Silence (19 page)

“I didn’t know about the pools.” I spoke the truth, grateful I didn’t have to say anything about how I’d been singing spells since I arrived, or that I’d bonded with a guard, or that I didn’t need these pools to release my magic. “How did you learn of them?”

“The Prince’s guards gave me directions the day I arrived.”

I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t cry out. Panic raced through my body. I stumbled to my feet, though they felt waterlogged. I had to get back to my suite, behind the song-spun moon-door of protection.

I didn’t wish Bo and Gibson to discover the range of my abilities this way. I’d rather be standing in a gale-force wind, singing my heart out as theirs exploded, when they learned I could bend magic to my will. My heart beat with helplessness, sure they already knew what I was desperate to keep hidden.

“I need to leave,” I said.

“You do not have to,” Mariana protested. “No one ever comes here.”

“But you said the girls love it here.”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at me. “I lied.”

“Then why did you want me to come with you?” My stomach clenched.

“I’m tired of spending all day by myself, and you’re by far the most interesting girl here.” A playful glint entered her eyes. “Now I know why.”

I stepped out of the pool and reached for my towel. “You cannot say anything about this, to anyone.” My voice came out harsh. “No one knows. No one can know.”

Mariana’s eyes widened. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” I said, almost sinking to my knees in relief. “I really have to get back to my suite. After a release I must eat right away.” I thought of the theater performance I had scheduled with Cris, which was fast approaching. “I’m sorry. I must go.”

“Solis will take you,” Mariana said, turning to call out for him. “And you know, Echo. If you came to the pools every day to release your magic, it would take seconds and you wouldn’t be in such pain.”

“Maybe you’re right.” But I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to return my magic to the lands each day. I never knew when I might need it, especially here.

“Thank you, Mariana.”

“Call me Mari.”

“Thank you, Mari. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She nodded, and I cast the cascading pools a farewell glance before accepting the arm Solis offered me.

#

Lucia woke me with an apology. “I’m sorry, Echo. His Majesty is at the door.”

I sprang to a sitting position and immediately regretted it. My head pounded as if my brain had come loose and had knocked against bone. “Show him in,” I managed to croak.

Moments later, I hadn’t thought past the fact that I was lying in bed, wearing inappropriate attire to entertain royalty. Cris appeared, his face drawn with lines of worry. “My dearest, are you all right?” He moved quickly to my side and stroked his fingers over my eyebrows.

“I’m not,” I admitted. “I’m sorry I cannot come to the theater.”

He waved dismissively. “I’ve canceled the event.”

“You cannot do that.”

“I can do whatever I want.” He flashed a mischievous grin that almost conjured a smile from me. “If you’re up to it, I’d like to bring the entertainment here.”

“Yes, thank you.”

He ducked his head and looked over his shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and enjoy it with you.” He caught my eyes again, and I found a hint of redness in his cheeks.

“Can I get dressed first?”

“If you must.” His mouth rose in a smile, he planted a kiss on my forehead and retraced his steps out of my room. Heat spread through my body at his flirtatious words.

Greta came in, her face pale. “He says he’ll be back in fifteen minutes with another guest. Someone you’ll love, he said.”

“I wonder who that will be.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, hoping I could make it through this private impromptu event without embarrassing myself.

“I’ll get my kit,” Greta said.

“No,” I said. “Not tonight.”

“But His Majesty—”

“Has just seen me without makeup.” I softened my tone. “Thank you, Greta, but not tonight. I just need something simple to wear.”

It turned out that such a thing could scarcely be found in my closet. Lucia tossed yet another dress on the bureau with a declaration of “Too dark.”

“What about that peachy thing?” I pointed toward the left corner, where a hint of light fabric rose above the others.

Lucia pulled out the garment and held it up to her body. Greta clapped her hands. “That’s the one,” she said. “Let’s get her into it, Lucia.”

The dress felt like gauze, light and airy. I felt like I wore nothing, but upon inspection in the mirror, all the proper parts were covered. Lucia ran a brush through my hair twice before knocking sounded on the door.

“Just a touch of lip gloss,” Greta begged as Lucia went to welcome the Prince.

“Fine, lip gloss,” I conceded. Greta smiled as she swiped it on, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, Greta.” I clutched her in a quick hug, the kind I’d given to Grandmother before leaving for lessons with Oake.

“Good luck, my lady,” she whispered.

I needed it.

#

I breezed into the entryway, where Cris stood next to an older woman with hair the color of brass. Her weathered face bore many wrinkles, but her eyes shone with kindness. She reminded me of Grandmother, and she hadn’t even spoken yet.

Cris hadn’t taken his eyes off me and they’d traveled the length of my body several times already. “I cannot wait to hear what you have to say tonight.”

I laughed, but I appreciated that while he obviously liked what he saw, he could also look past the beautiful fabrics and painted faces. He reminded me of Castillo, and I hastily pushed that thought away. I didn’t want the two of them mingling in the soft places of my heart.

“I’m sure you won’t like it,” I said as I took my seat in the recliner.

“You look lovely without makeup,” he said, following me. “Women wear entirely too much of it, don’t you think?”

I stared at him. “Well, look who’s saying inappropriate things tonight.”

A second recliner had been brought in, and Cris settled his tall frame next to me as he laughed. He let his arms hang lazily over the edges, and for once he didn’t cross his legs. He looked casual and calm, comfortable, here in my personal suite. The idea brought warmth to my chest.

“Echo, this is Abigail,” Cris said by way of introduction. “She’s one of Nyth’s finest crooners. She was to perform in tonight’s musical, but since we couldn’t attend, I asked her to personally entertain us.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

Cris smiled as he reached for my hand. Abigail began to sing, her voice unpowered by magic, but fueled with a passion and intensity that tugged at my heart all the same. She spoke of unrequited love in one song, of revenge in another, of forgiveness in a third.

I lost myself in the timbre of her voice, letting its richness melt over me until I’d utterly relaxed. Abigail sang several more tunes, each beautiful and lilting. I found myself wishing my ceiling had a way to capture the music so I could replay it time and again.

“I have one more song for you tonight,” Abigail said, her speaking voice barely loud enough to hear. I opened my eyes quickly, lest she think I’d fallen asleep.

She began the song, the first few notes unfamiliar. But as more and more sounds connected together, I realized I’d heard this particular song before. Grandmother had sung this tale of Relina one Sunday during our last winter together.

I shifted in my recliner and removed my hand from Cris’s, suddenly keen for Abigail to finish and leave. My eyes felt tight and hot, my throat too narrow to swallow.

My breath shook through my chest, and when Cris touched my arm it nearly became my complete undoing.

“What’s wrong, dearest?” He removed his fingers, though I hadn’t felt his usual calming magic.

I shook my head, forcing the tears back. “Nothing.”

“Echo,” Cris said. “I want to help.”

This man puzzled me. I’d been prepared to dislike him, hate him even. I wasn’t prepared for the warmth I felt in his smile, or the easiness of being with him. Everything felt new and strange, and with the lore song of Relina as background music, my magic expanded until he had space to carve a place in my heart.

“How did you know I enjoy the old lore songs?” I asked, mortified that my voice wavered.

Cris shot me a shifty look. “I know many things about you, Echo.”

My heart pumped harder, but whether from the breathy way he said my name or from what Gibson might have told him, I wasn’t sure.

“I’m trying to make you happy,” he said. “Don’t you like the song?”

I swallowed. “You’re making it worse.” The more time I spent with him, the more I liked him. And that would make everything down the road harder.
Or easier,
I thought.
If we’re to wed, it wouldn’t be so bad to like him, would it?

“Making what worse?” His voice came out strained. I hated that my behavior hurt him, yet I wanted to push him away.

I shook my head again as Abigail finished her song. I applauded, and she bowed her way out of my suite.

Cris remained in his recliner, his eyes trained on me. “Echo, say what you want.”

“I cannot.”

“It’s never stopped you before.”

When I still didn’t speak, Cris reclaimed my hand. “Hey, look at me.” The gentleness in his voice pulled at the edge of my frayed nerves. The idea of loving Cris and the pain at losing Grandmother mixed inside me, a lethal combination against my composure. I looked at him, intensely grateful I hadn’t let Greta brush me with makeup for I thought I might cry.

I seized on the thought of Greta and how she’d wished me good luck. I took in the kindness in Cris’s eyes. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Let’s go into the courtyard,” I said, desperate for fresh air.

Cris offered me his arm, and we moved through my suite to the glass door in my bedroom. Once outside, the darkness made it easier to pluck up my courage to speak. He slipped his hand into mine, and I enjoyed the warmth from his skin and the perfect amount of pressure he exerted. Memories of last night’s excursion to the river flowed through my mind, and I was afraid of the feelings rising through my chest. I recognized them—I’d briefly felt this way with Oake before I’d fled Iskadar.

“Cris, I’m afraid.”

“Of what, dearest?”

“Of falling in love with you.” My eyes had adjusted to the dark, but I couldn’t see more than a profile of him. The width of his shoulders narrowed into a trim waist. His hands engulfed mine, making me feel safe. Making me feel that whatever the problem, he would fix it.

Maybe Cris was smarter than Castillo had given him credit for. Maybe he wasn’t simply seeking a magic-rich bride, but was looking for love.

Cris formed his mouth to mine, and this kiss was so much more than our first. That had been nearly platonic, with stiff lips and lasting only a heartbeat.

This kiss felt round and whole. He took his time, but didn’t hang on too long, and when he pulled back, the magic inside me stirred.

“I’m afraid of what I need to show you.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I stepped out of his arms, opened my mouth, and sang.

The music flowed out of me in a series of low, almost guttural, notes. The gas lamps in the courtyard flared to life, burning bright with the heat of my magic. In the resulting light, I clearly saw the shock on Cris’s face. Immediately following that, hunger invaded his expression. And just after that, the only thing I found in his eyes was love.

I finished the song and stood there, under extreme scrutiny from the future High King of Nyth.

“Magnificent,” he breathed, stepping close and tracing his fingers down the sides of my face. “Simply magnificent.”

#

The middle of the night found me in the courtyard where I’d huddled after Castillo had left. The corner provided exactly the escape I needed. I couldn’t erase the need I’d seen in Cris’s eyes. Though it had lasted only a moment—seeing that expression and being free from his touch—I’d realized he was playing a game too, one with dangerous consequences.

I couldn’t allow myself to think what I felt was real, though tonight, I’d believed his words, heard his concern in the way he said my name. And none of that had happened while he was touching me.

I wished I could tell him that he was second to my desire to re-establish magicians as valued citizens, that I was using him in the same way as Gibson or Bo. If I had to become Queen of Nyth to achieve my plans to cleanse magic, I would.

I wished these thoughts didn’t hurt so much. Cris had kissed me again before leaving, and I’d retreated to bed. But my stagnant bedroom didn’t hold my worries half as well as the courtyard. I wondered if Castillo was watching the same sky, and if so, which constellation he admired most.

Cris didn’t come by my suite the next day; I didn’t receive any solicitations for dinners or activities. The time alone refreshed me, though a pin of worry kept pushing into my heart.

I wondered if I’d done something wrong, though I hadn’t said anything too terrible, and he’d kissed me before leaving. I finally forced the anxiety from my mind by reminding myself that he was a
prince
, and certainly couldn’t lounge around with me all day, doing nothing.

The second day found me sewing at dawn and bent over sketches of wedding gowns at breakfast. Lucia sat with me, adding lace to the bodice and intricate beading on the gloves.

“No word from the Prince?” I asked her after returning from lunch with the other girls.

Lucia shook her head. “Sorry, Echo. I’m sure he’s simply busy with the affairs of Umon.”

“Of course.” I let her take out my hair, and then I convinced her that we needed to swap places, the way Olive and I used to. Having Lucia so close had helped some of the anxiousness that pressed against my pulse whenever I thought of my sister.

I still hadn’t received word from her, and I worried she hadn’t made it to Iskadar as safely as Castillo had assured me she would.

I hummed a soft detection spell as I swept Lucia’s golden hair into braids and brushed shadows onto her eyelids. A rebound did not come, and I determined the distance between this compound and the outer village was simply too great to traverse. A thread of unease pulled through me, and I had no one to question about Olive’s well being.