The Firethorn Crown (17 page)

“I’m tired of ballgowns,” Melantha said. “Let Coral take my place. No one would notice.”

Coral’s face brightened, but only until Mara spoke. “Lord Cranvury would notice.”

“Don’t remind me,” Melantha said.

“What’s wrong with Lord Cranvury?” Azure asked. She and Ivy had tucked themselves and the kittens under a dressing table.

“He likes to stare at my freckles.” Melantha stood and let Gwen help her into her gown.

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Not the ones on my face, you goose.”

Azure thought for a moment and then blushed. “Oh.”

Melantha’s sleeveless gown had as few layers as she could get away with and still call it a ballgown. And it was black, a novel color, before they’d found the undergarden. A blood-red mask covered most of her face, a rare chance to hide her freckles. Near her brows, the edges curled like horns. Lily shivered at the finished result.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Melantha said.

Lily turned back to her reflection, tilting her head to see Ruby’s finished work—an intricate, yet simple, knot at her neck.

“Now the mask.” Ruby tied it on.

Tired eyes peered from behind an iron-grey mask. Someone had decided to add black feathers around the edges. A few minutes later, she stood gowned in iron and silver. She’d opted for simple, like Melantha, but she already regretted her color choices.

“Let’s go get the dancing over with, so we can go dance,” Melantha said. She swallowed hard and tugged at her pendant, looking thoughtful. Red lines marred both sides of her neck. She’d never been one to wear jewelry.

Jewelry! Lily’s insides did a quick flip, and she ran to the bed she shared with Gwen, wincing as her feet smacked on the floor. From underneath the mattress on the far side, she pulled out a tiny box containing the wire ring Eben had given her. He would see it as soon as she left the room. He would know she’d kept it. And maybe . . . maybe he would guess she wore it for a reason now. She slipped it on her left hand. Maybe he would take it as a sign, permission to speak what was on his mind. What she
hoped
was on his mind.

The girls went down to the sitting room, but Ivy hung back at the top of the stairs.

“He’s back, Lily” she whispered, hugging herself. “Yarrow is back. He knows—” She choked on her tears. “He knows it’s—”

Lily hugged her tight. Of course Yarrow came back—he never missed Ivy’s birthday. She dried Ivy’s tears with the hem of her gown, and they joined the others in the sitting room.

Gwen took off her mask. “I can’t wear it. My head is pounding.”

Junia tried a smile, but it faded when the door opened. Neylan gazed at the wall vacantly, no doubt daydreaming, and floated along behind them into the hallway.

Lily’s heart fluttered. She folded her hands in front of her so the ring would be visible on top. Would he see it right away?

Coral sighed wistfully and closed the door.

“Ready?” Riva waited to escort them to the ballroom.

Where was Eben?

Chapter Seventeen

F
ive steps. That’s all Lily had to take to reach the ballroom floor, yet it might as well have been five hundred. She couldn’t face them, the dragons of the court. They would slash at what little self-control she had left, until she spoke and doomed them all.

“May I?” Holic arrived, and he offered his arm with a look of concern.

If she accepted, she would announce to the room that he had some claim on her, however small it may be. She’d always entered alone for that reason. Hazel made no move, nor did the other girls indicate by expression or gesture what she should do. This was her decision alone.

She accepted his offer for what it was, a friendly gesture to help her through what could be a difficult night. Runson would call the decision foolish, but since meeting Holic and Orin, Runson’s voice in her head sounded empty and self-serving.

Five steps down, and Holic swung her into the midst of the courtiers. Tonight they were dragons, whirling in mock flight across the floor. She waited for the panic she’d been sure would come, but this was not Tharius’s ball. Gowns in shades of midnight spun around the room, but she knew this place, these faces. A real orchestra played in the balcony, and honest starlight flowed bright through the windows, silvering the shadows.

She didn’t see Mother anywhere.

As their second dance flowed into a third, Holic passed her along to another partner and claimed her immediately after, continuing the pattern to avoid unnecessary gossip. No one would monopolize a lady’s time, unless they had an understanding, preferably a betrothal. Holic pushed the limits to keep Runson away from her. He managed to dance with Gwen and Junia, and twice with Hazel. Neylan leaned against an open window, arms crossed to ward off hopeful partners.

Lily lost track of time. The great clock beside the staircase refused to come into focus as they spun around the room.

“Do you have another appointment?” Holic teased.

Goosebumps prickled her arms—if only he knew. She gave up on the clock, falling back on her previous pastime of keeping track of the girls. Gwen, Hazel, and Melantha danced valiantly on tired feet. Junia, too.

Neylan stood frozen by the window, her hand at her throat.

Lily stumbled and blinked rapidly. There, just beside the window, stood Tharius.

Her legs wouldn’t hold her. Holic half dragged her to a chair, but she needed to go to her sister. Tharius ignored Neylan, his gaze locked on Lily. She tried to stand, but Holic’s hand weighed heavy on her shoulder.

“You’re not well. I’ll get you some water.” He gently squeezed her shoulder. “Please, stay put.”

She did, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep from shaking to bits. Tharius stalked towards her, keeping well away from the dancers. This was impossible. How did he get here?

She didn’t blink. As he neared, his hair faded to match her dress, and then faded more in the silvery light. She rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t just his hair. His clothes, his skin, his whole body became transparent, until he disappeared entirely.

She clasped her hands in her lap and wished Holic would hurry back. Her gaze darted around the room. Had anyone else seen what had just happened?

Where was Eben?

Neylan ran along the edge of the dance floor, oblivious to the stares. The butterwing flapped its annoyance and flew off. She skidded to her knees in front of Lily, eyes wide in panic, and twined their fingers together.

“It was an illusion,” she said, panting. Her hands were as clammy as Lily’s. “He can’t get out. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.”

Neylan’s attempt at reassurance didn’t work. What Tharius had done should have been impossible. He was much, much more powerful than he’d let on.

They needed to get to the undergarden.

She didn’t want to go.

Before Holic returned, Runson pounced. Heedless of Neylan’s distress, he pulled Lily onto the dance floor. Numb with shock, she felt the music wrap around her and carry them along. Runson wasn’t a bad dancer. A bit by the book, much like Eben when the girls had first convinced him they needed a male partner to practice with. He’d loosened up eventually and sent them all into fits of laughter dancing to Azure’s favorite folk music.

Runson shook her.

Oh. He’d been speaking.

“I’m not happy with your little game.” His eyes looked black tonight. “I want an answer to my question before some buffoon decides to lay claim to the throne through the queen’s contest.”

Wasn’t he trying to do that?

“I’m watching you, and you’ll regret it if you try to play tricks on me again.”

Now he was threatening her. Or something. She concentrated on locating her sisters.

Neylan sat in the chair, and the others danced. Holic partnered Junia, but he watched Lily closely.

Runson shook her again. “I’m tired of this silent charade.” His face softened, and his fake smile appeared. “It just proves that you need me. To help you, I mean. There’s no need for you to do this all alone.”

No. There was no need to do it alone. But she could. If she could just break this curse, she could do anything.

But she couldn’t break the curse alone. She needed someone for that. What a nasty web Tharius had woven for her.

Not satisfied with her response, Runson slung them around in the dance. There were so many ways she would like to tell him to buzz off right now, but she couldn’t. She might even be diplomatic about it, if only she could speak. But she
could
speak, if she wanted. She could encourage Runson. Embrace his advances. Ensure him of her regard and attachment. He could help her break the curse. Or could he? He’d never actually declared his love.

Compared to Tharius and all her other problems, Runson was nothing more than a nuisance. What real threat did he pose? He would never figure out the curse, so he could never win Mother’s contest. There wasn’t much, if anything, that he could do to her or her sisters that was worse than what they were going through now.

Heat surged through her limbs. She’d had enough. She pulled his hand from her waist and let the dance spin her away. A polite curtsy for all to see, and then she walked away. It was a public declaration, a visual snub in front of citizens and guests, and it was all the answer he needed. He would have no more of her time. She needed to focus on what really mattered.

And right now, that was Junia.

Holic caught Junia a split-second before she hit the floor in a genuine faint. She hadn’t taken a break all night, and she was already exhausted from dancing in the undergarden. Lily followed as he quickly carried her sister off the floor.

Riva and another guard cleared the way to a side chamber, where Gwen and Mother joined them. Mother had just arrived.

Holic placed Junia gently on a couch. She blinked and sat up.

“You look exhausted.” Mother untied Junia’s mask, both of their faces as pale as Hazel’s gown. “I want you in bed. I’m sure you could all use some rest. The night will go on without you.”

A generous reprieve. Too bad they couldn’t take her up on it.

“Lily, stay for a moment, please.”

The girls left with the guards, and Holic bid them goodnight.

Mother sank into the couch and patted the seat next to her. Lily perched on the edge.

Twisting her hands in her lap, Mother opened her mouth to speak, but turned it into a sigh.

“Lily . . . I . . .” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a calming gesture she only did in front of her husband or her daughters. No one else would see the queen collecting herself in such a way. “I wish I could change what I said before, but there were too many witnesses. Runson and his family would never let me back out of it. Once a queen has made a declaration, it stands. Never forget that.”

She never had, and she never would.

“I know I’ve put a lot of pressure on you since your birthday. I’m not the only one. It’s part of being responsible for so many lives. But there’s more going on here than feeling burdened by responsibilities, isn’t there?”

When Lily didn’t respond, she asked, “Is it something you can speak of?”

Lily put a hand on Mother’s cheek, tears blurring her vision. She blinked, and they spilled over, splashing onto her chest and dampening the edge of her bodice.

Mother covered Lily’s hand with her own and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“Your father will find out who’s behind this,” she whispered, “and they won’t be pleased to see the wrath of the Iturian King.”

Donning her mask, Mother left to join her dragons.

*

Back in the tower, Lily changed into a soft green dress. She joined the girls in the sitting room, where they lay draped on the furniture. Junia woke from the couch and helped Mara pass out creams and tend sore feet.

“I’m not wearing shoes.” Azure lay upside down on a chair, bare feet dangling over the back, hair trailing on the ground. “I’ll be invisible, and then have imaginary slippers, so what’s the point?”

No one could argue with that.

Ivy lay curled on the floor by the couch, her eyes squeezed tightly closed. She clutched something to her chest. Lily knelt by her side and pried her hands open gently to reveal an exquisitely-embroidered handkerchief.

“Eben gave it to me,” Ivy whispered. “He said Yarrow will come by later. He
will
come by later, won’t he?”

Lily nodded, pulled Ivy into her lap, and rocked her as Junia finished. She took the handkerchief and tucked it into Ivy’s belt pouch.

“There.” Junia sighed. “That’s the best I can do, and it’s all going to be undone by the end of the night.”

Hazel took Ivy, and they joined the others at the door.

“I’ll get the kittens,” Ruby said.

“That won’t work a second time,” Azure said.

Ruby slumped against the wall.

Lily took her spot at the front and peeked out the spy hole. Eben sat on the floor across the way, elbows resting on his knees, head bent.

How would they get out now? Unless—

“How many guards?” Gwen asked.

Lily held up a finger to let her know she needed a minute to think.

“One guard?”

She shook her head.

“I think she means she needs a minute,” Neylan said.

Lily paced back and forth in front of the door. She had an idea even better than kittens: Eben would be their escort. She motioned Neylan over to the spy hole.

“Eben’s on the floor.”

Lily walked her fingers in the air, miming him walking into the room.

Neylan understood. “Scoot back.” She shooed the girls away and opened the door wide.

Eben jumped up and took a step forward. He stopped when he saw Neylan, with Lily just behind.

“Could you come in for a moment?” Neylan asked.

He entered without hesitation and stood at attention, waiting expectantly. Neylan shut the door quietly.

That was as far as Lily had gotten with her plan. She couldn’t
ask
him for an escort to the gardens, or to the library, or to some out-of-the-way place, and then tell him to leave them alone so they could become invisible and sneak out. The girls had no idea what she had in mind.

Eben didn’t let the silence go on long. “You’re not being blackmailed, are you.” It wasn’t a question.

Melantha snorted. “You just figured that out?”

“Shut up,” Mara said and elbowed her.

Lily shook her head slowly.

“Yarrow thinks you’re under a curse or spell of some sort.”

She didn’t move an inch. She could barely breathe
. Finally
. Finally, someone knew. He didn’t know the details, but he had figured out something strange was going on.

“Can you help us?” Ruby whispered.

Eben turned to her and said, “I’m not sure. I don’t know what we’re dealing with, and I’m guessing you can’t tell me.”

Ruby shook her head to confirm his guess.

“We need to get going,” Gwen said.

Worry and confusion passed across Eben’s face. How could Lily make him understand?

She mimed opening a book and drawing, and then pointed to him, hoping he still had her sketchbook. It would be easier not having to redraw anything right now.

He frowned, but pulled it from behind his back where he’d had it tucked into his belt. “You want this?”

She took the book and flipped through the pages, until the maze sketch fluttered out.

Eben caught it. “Yarrow and I couldn’t find this mirror anywhere in the maze. The passageways were . . . shifting.”

Tharius had been busy tonight. She licked her lips. She didn’t know if he could do anything to Eben or Yarrow in the maze, and she didn’t want to find out. They needed to go. Now.

She pointed to herself and then to the mirror, trying to indicate her intentions to Eben. He shrugged, frowning.

“We need—” Coral began.

“Hush,” Gwen said. “We don’t need anyone fainting right now.”

The girls exchanged wide-eyed stares before looking at Eben. Lily waited, wondering if he understood the significance. Gwen had said that without fainting herself.

Confusion clouded his face as he tried to fit pieces of the puzzle together. “The other night, when Ivy fainted, she was trying to say something about the curse?”

No one dared respond.

“Okay. So, you can’t talk about the curse, or whatever it is. And Lily can’t talk at all, for some reason.”

Melantha snapped her fingers to get his attention, and then patted her throat.

“The necklaces keep you quiet?”

Close enough.

“Does all of this have something to do with the mirror?”

“Shhh.” Gwen reminded the girls not to speak, indicating to Eben that he was on the right track.

The lines disappeared from between his brows. “Yarrow said sorcerers sometimes use mirrors in spells.”

Lily walked her fingers across the sketch, trying to mime that they needed to get to the maze.

He misunderstood. “You’ve all seen the mirror?”

She sighed and flapped her arms out to the side. She couldn’t tell him what they needed. She couldn’t
tell
him anything. She couldn’t . . . tell him. But maybe she could
show
him.