Burning Glass (21 page)

G
OOD,
I
THOUGHT AND MET THE PRINCE’S GAZE
HEAD ON.
Let him wriggle in his discomfort.
I hoped he had seen me speak with Nicolai, that he knew I was up to something and hadn’t forgotten the snatch of the letter I’d read so many months ago.

I lifted my chin and looked away from him first, finding some measure of power in that. Petty or not, it felt wonderful.

I sat on my stool with my back straight, my Auraseer’s robes spread at my feet like a fan. A dark sensation twisted inside me, like a serpent writhed in my gut. I exhaled and struggled to release it, but it only coiled tighter. My gaze flickered to Anton. Was this him? I’d been so fixated on his aura. But I’d never sensed something this disturbing within it before.

The music fell silent. The nobles faced the doors of the ballroom in expectation. Valko and Floquart reentered. They’d been gone such a long time, it led me to wonder how vast
Riaznin’s treasury was, how much wealth we hoarded in the palace while so many went without.

As the guards filed in behind them, I saw Yuri a pace back from the rest. A few moments after him came Pia, her head lowered as she hurried to the nearest banquet table. She peeked up at me, her cheeks dimpling as she suppressed a smile. With the healthy flush of color on her skin, she was practically glowing. It appeared she’d stolen a dance, after all. At least one of us had.

I scanned the procession for the Esten Auraseer, but the girl with sunken eyes and auburn hair was nowhere to be seen.

The bitter feeling in me grew stronger, thicker like black tar. As the emperor drew nearer, it oozed into my mind, across my heart. The self-loathing I’d felt before Valko had left to the treasury came back with full vengeance. My thoughts reverted to Yuliya’s blood, Nadia’s death, the peasant man’s burning. The darkness spread inside me.

There were more ways a person could die. Suffocation. Smothering.

What would it feel like to hold a pillow over someone’s mouth? Who would let me close enough so I could try?

Would the emperor?

I slowly twirled a lock of hair as I watched him through murky vision, as if the blackness had bled across my eyes. I could knock on Valko’s door tonight, let him kiss me, let him do more, and while he slept in my arms, I could snuff the last breath from his lungs.

He smiled warmly at me from across the ballroom. His gaze held triumph. No doubt, the private meeting with Floquart had been successful—so successful the emperor had forgiven my indiscretions. I could already imagine his hot fingers on my skin. What would it feel like to break them?

The nobles fell into bows as the emperor’s procession carved across the dance floor. I restrained my curtsy until he was so near I could no longer afford to be indifferent. Now wasn’t the time to betray my dark intentions. He’d know them soon enough.

I rose from my curtsy and grinned up at him through my lashes, the taste of his promised death like sugar on my tongue.

Some niggling speck of reason flitted through my mind. When had the emperor wronged me to such a degree that I should feel so violent?

With a nod to the conductor and a slight motion to a servant, Valko recommenced the music and summoned a goblet of aqua vitae for the emissary. Floquart’s large hand encircled the cup. His cunning mouth took delicate sips.

The serpent in me slithered as I considered the emissary. Riaznin would benefit from a union to Estengarde. The wars at our borders would cease—at least to the west. The Esten army would fortify ours. Valko could invade Shengli with such strength, whether or not that was wise.

But what did Estengarde stand to gain by allying with
us
? Where we were surrounded by three countries, they had the sea on all sides except one—their northeastern front with the
Bayac Mountains, a natural fortress. The border wars that devastated us did little damage to them or their numbers.

The serpent inside me slid under my ribs and squeezed my lungs.

While it was true Riaznin was less fortified, we were, however, wealthy—even if that wealth did little to assist our people or give us the united culture of which the Estens were so proud. They were rich enough without us, but if I knew one thing about greed, it was that its appetite was endless.

Floquart’s eyes peered over his goblet as he drank again, this time to take in the expanse of the room. His gaze held more admiration than the first glimpse of his arrival. Whatever he saw in our treasury had tipped the scales. He may think us unrefined, but we were still gold in his pockets.

The serpent coiled up toward my heart.

Valko grinned broadly. “I am ready to dance!” he announced to anyone within earshot. Turning to Floquart, he added, “I do hope you’ll take the opportunity to become acquainted with our Riaznian beauties. And I shall do the same so you may have proof for Madame Valois that her intended is as nimble on his feet as he is in his promise to dote on her every luxury.”

Floquart nodded, his eyes trapped on mine, anticipating Valko’s next move. But the emperor wisely chose someone else—Countess Dyomin of the first-class-ranking nobles. As he led her out on the dance floor, the emissary’s shoulders relaxed. Still, there was a motive I had yet to discover in the man. It seemed the utmost importance I do it now.

But try as I might over the next few waltzes, minuets, and Valko’s rotating dance partners, I couldn’t find proof that the darkness I felt originated with Floquart. Every time my jaw clenched, my knees locked, or my nerves flared, he merely seemed bored. His eyebrows didn’t so much as twitch when horrid images surfaced in my mind.

Perhaps, with my shameful history and weakening barriers against my viler self, I needed to accept that the likeliest source of the darkness was me.

At the end of a contredanse, Valko left his partner and came to my side. He took my hand and brushed it over with his thumb. His touch burned like a kiss. Something shivered in my chest and unfurled like a flower, but it threatened to wither in the darkness still holding me captive.

“Are you ready to redeem your promise, Sovereign Auraseer?” he said. No . . . he
asked
me. Like a gentleman would, no demand in his voice.
He asked me.
Like I’d asked Anton. The flower inside me raised its head.

The niggling reason in my mind grew stronger. Floquart was watching us, lip curled and eyes narrowed. Some instinct warned I shouldn’t dance with the emperor now; I should focus on my duties. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t deny Valko like Anton denied me.

I curtsied, my hand still resting in his. “I am ready, My Lord Emperor.” Despite the swarming darkness, despite my suspicious thoughts of Floquart, I wanted this dance. I wanted, for a moment, to be just a girl.

Valko kissed my hand, which made Floquart’s eye spasm, and then guided me deep into the nest of dancing nobles. They pulled back a little to give us a wider berth, but the air still felt too dense to breathe. Taking hold of my waist and raising my hand in the hair, the emperor and I assumed the position of the waltz. My legs trembled, whether from my self-imposed starvation or the probing and judgmental auras fighting for purchase within me, I didn’t know.

“I don’t want to embarrass you, My Lord,” I said, already stumbling on my feet. “But I was never taught to dance.”
Not like this.

He grinned as if my confession were the most becoming thing in the world. “Relax in my arms, Sonya, and I will carry you.” I did as he said, and like magic, we spun in a graceful circle. An amazed bubble of laughter tumbled out of me. I felt as elegant as a princess the more I fell in step with his confident lead. As we revolved and revolved, Valko gazed steadfastly upon me. His gray eyes fairly glowed from the abundant candlelight.

How kind he is. How patient.

No.
The darker half of me obliterated my pleasant thoughts.
He thinks I am weak, and he likes it. He likes being stronger than me.

We twirled around and around. I fought a dizzying rush, not only from the dance but the prying emotions of the nobles and their needling curiosity at seeing the sovereign Auraseer dance—and with the emperor. I battled their energy and tried to push them away, and then the writhing darkness did it for
me. Like a billowing cloud of smoke, it overcame them. And as it dissipated, their auras were replaced in my mind with images of poison, sharpened knives, the knot of a noose, pooling blood.

Think, Sonya, think.
The darkness couldn’t wholly be me.

I looked past the swirl of jewel-tone dresses to Floquart. He leaned on one elbow in the careless Esten way that wasn’t careless at all. His eyes were fast on me. I was a threat to him, though I didn’t know why.

Valko glided me around once more and pulled my gaze until it fell on Anton, who conversed with the most pompously dressed woman in the room. One bell tolled the quarter hour. Fifteen minutes until midnight. I imagined the prince’s boot tapping with impatience.

The emperor and I circled near Count Nicolai Rostav and his noblemen friends. The count’s lips were only slightly curved, as if his smile had faltered when he heard the bell. His panic reared up and beat again like a trapped butterfly inside my chest.

I searched for Yuri as I spun three more revolutions, but the guard was gone—as well as Pia. Had they sneaked another moment away together? Would Yuri leave her in time to join Anton, or did each man in the prince’s league intend to act his part alone?

Once more, I wondered where the Esten Auraseer was. Perhaps she had slipped back inside the ballroom through the orchestra door. But I couldn’t find her among the group of
Estens gathered near the dais or with the servants on the outer edges of the room.

Valko and I spun again. My knees buckled at the sight of a new man. He wore an ill-fitting kaftan of brown silk, surely not his own. And, unlike the Riaznian nobles, this man sported a trimmed beard despite the emperor’s decree. Feliks was here. Feliks, the commoner. The man from the city. The man Anton had passed the reins of his troika to upon our arrival—and his secret letter.

How had Feliks gained entrance to the ball?

“Are you all right?” Valko asked, catching me upright again.

“Yes.” My breathless voice, however, revealed I was not. “But I suppose I’m not as clever a student at dancing as I’d hoped to be. Even with a master for a teacher.”

He held me closer and twirled me around with more tenderness, more vigor. Nicolai’s panic, which had stuck inside me, grew stronger. Nausea gripped my stomach—my own ailment for not eating all day.

It took me a moment to locate Feliks again. He’d moved closer to the doors. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the ballroom, especially the quadrants containing Anton and Nicolai. At last, with a flex of his fists, he turned on his heel and abruptly left.

At that moment, Nicolai yawned. He gave a short bow to his friends, ambled around the edge of the room, and exited after Feliks.

It was happening. Whatever plan they were enacting, it was happening right now. And they were doing it together. Yuri had already left; he’d never reentered after disappearing a second time with Pia.

My heart thrummed with anticipation. I looked past Valko’s shoulder to Anton. I tensed as I waited for him to follow the others. In brief flickers, I watched him as I spun around in the waltz, finding careful moments to glance away from the emperor. A long minute passed in which the prince continued conversing with the pompous lady.

Leave
, I silently pleaded with Anton as I revolved again. I needed to be right about this. I needed Anton to realize how clever I was and think me capable of joining his league. I
would
join him, that I knew. His cause had to be noble. I would believe nothing less of him. Perhaps it could be the means of giving him the glory his birthright could not.

When I thought I might burst, when I entertained a maddening thought of grabbing the prince’s hand and yanking him from the room myself, he finished speaking to the woman. In another three flashes of my vision, their conversation ended naturally. She gave the last word, curtsied, and initiated the farewell. After Anton parted from the woman, I studied him through a new series of stolen glances. He stopped at a banquet table, took a sip of aqua vitae—adding to the illusion he was in no rush at all. And then—at last—he walked out of the room.

My mouth went dry. My legs shook violently. The dizzying
turns of the waltz seized me. I dug my hand into Valko’s shoulder. I would not faint. Not now.

“I was wrong, My Lord,” I said, fighting for breath. “I’m not all right. I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to the demands of this dance.” In truth, I was as ill as I needed him to believe, though I couldn’t determine if the mounting sickness came of starvation, my own anxiety, someone else’s energy, or if it was part of the darkness I strove to hold at bay.

Valko brought us to an immediate halt, which only made my head spin worse. “Do you need something to drink?”

“No, no, only some air.” Worried he might follow, I added, “I have a tonic—in my room.”

“I’ll send a servant.”

“No, the solitude will do me good. The weight of so many auras is difficult to endure. A little distance and a moment’s peace will make my recovery all the speedier.” How quickly the words came to my tongue, despite my light-headedness. “I’ll return soon, My Lord.” I curtsied and dashed out of the ballroom before he could talk me into staying. Surely I was the only Riaznian to ever abandon him without his dismissal, but if I didn’t go now, I would lose Anton’s trail.

Outside the doors were a handful of guards. The rest were within. The spacious lobby beyond was empty and dim with only a few lit candle stands. I studied the many branching corridors and cursed Anton for being so fast.

“Did you see which way the prince went?” I asked the guards. “The emperor wishes a word with him.” It was a stupid
lie; my faint head was getting the better of me. Valko would send a servant to fetch Anton, not his sovereign Auraseer. But at the moment I couldn’t think of a better excuse.