The Orphan Queen (29 page)

When the prince turned away again, James mouthed, “Chey Chuter.”

Of course
. That day in the ladies' solar, when she'd counseled me about using my perceived unimportance, Chey hadn't been offering advice. She'd been warning me that she knew I wasn't who I claimed, and I'd been too foolish to understand it. She'd been playing games with me the whole time.

It didn't matter. I'd figure out a way to call off the inquiry and reestablish my place here. We'd succeeded in our goals thus far, but I wanted to know more about their plans to stop the
wraith. Having seen the wraithland firsthand, I might actually be able to help.

But first, I had to figure out how to tell them that the wraith was alive.

Alive. Aware. In pursuit.

“You're shivering, my lady. I'm afraid we've kept you outside too long; I'd hate to undo all the recovery you've made from your illness.” James offered his arm, and the heat of his body warmed me. “Shall we go back inside? I believe you owe me a dance, and then one for Tobiah. He got jealous earlier.”

“James.” The prince's tone was light. Friendly. Something shared with only his cousin.

“I'd be honored to dance with both of you, as long as Lady Meredith doesn't mind.” I offered the prince my free arm, though I still held my wineglass with that hand. He took it from me and placed all our glasses on a table. After the smallest hesitation, he hooked his arm with mine.

Two boys at my sides: one as warm and genuine as a summer day, and the other as cold and deceptive as winter night.

James grinned at me. “What a scandal we'll cause.”

“It wouldn't be a ball if someone didn't take it upon themselves to be wildly inappropriate.” I put on a smug smile and we strode back into the ballroom.

IN SPITE OF
the promise—or threat—of a dance, the prince was called to attend his fiancée immediately, which left me alone with James.

“So much for our scandal.” I watched Tobiah's stiffly retreating form for only a moment before I turned back to James and smiled. I could get a lot more information out of James without his cousin there to censor him.

James grinned and adjusted his collar against the warmth of the ballroom. “Shall we take the next dance? I'm willing to put my life into your hands for the honor of your continued company.”

I put on a coy smile. “The prince won't mind if you're not shadowing his every move?”

“He'll no doubt be proud of feeling he's shaken me, but have no worry: I can see him from here.” His eyes focused beyond me for a moment, and he offered a satisfied nod. “See? He's just
there, shadowing Lady Meredith's every move.”

“Ah.” I didn't take my eyes off James. “How fortunate for me. I get, what, half of your attention all to myself?”

James shook his head. “Perhaps a third. His Highness takes a
lot
of looking after.”

I feigned a dramatic sigh. “I'll forgive you if you escort me to the buffet before the next dance begins.” The table was across the room, and sadly neglected. The thought of all that food going to waste at the end of the night made me sick, but it wasn't as though I could single-handedly eat all of it, or deliver it to the Ospreys or refugees.

James took my arm as we walked around the edge of the ballroom, out of the way of dancers. The whole place was a wash of movement, with couples on the floor, flames on candles, and the vibrations of music on the air. Elegant gowns swished and flared, their gemstones catching the light.

This was almost my life. It would have been, before the One-Night War. Before Tobiah and the fighting and the Indigo Army murdering my parents in the courtyard for all to see. And now that I'd seen the source of the contention between the kingdoms—the wraithland created by industrialized magic—everything grew muddled and murky in my head.

I paused, closed my eyes, and breathed against the tide of memories and emotions.

“My lady?” James touched my wrist gently. “We can rest, if you're not feeling well enough to dance.”

“I'm fine.” I had so many questions about my parents' plans for Aecor and magic. There was so much I needed to consider, but this wasn't the time. This wasn't the place. “I'm fine,” I said
again, as though I could command away all my uncertainties.

We moved to the buffet, a long table draped with a white cloth. House sigils covered the front, mostly dragons. My stomach rumbled as I spotted platters filled with salads prepared as intricate and colorful mosaics, sandwiches of every kind, and tiny desserts: pies, tarts, and puddings.

Music and laughter covered the sound of my hunger, but James flashed a knowing smile. “I hope you're enjoying your return to palace society.”

“I suppose the company is adequate.” I tried to keep my voice light. “Honestly, I'm very relieved to be here. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to attend.”

His expression turned unreadable as he offered a small plate of canapés: egg, cheese, and salmon. I took one.

James shifted closer to me, his voice low. “Are you concerned about what I told you?”

I shook my head. “Why should I be? A warehouse robbery is unfortunate, but has nothing to do with me. I'm certain an inquiry will find my residency documents completely authentic.”

“It's just that you arrived so shortly after the robbery. Some would find it suspicious.” James shrugged. “But as you said, I'm sure your papers are without fault.”

I finished the canapé.

“Will you confront Lady Chey, once your name has been cleared?”

“I would hate to embarrass her by drawing attention to the scandal.”

“That's very forgiving of you.”

“Perhaps.” How many people suspected, though? Chey,
certainly. Meredith? They'd been awfully insistent for me to demonstrate my ability to use a hand spindle. It must have been a kind of test—one I'd failed.

I wasn't ready to leave, though. Not until I'd shared my experience in the wraithland with someone who had a chance of using the information for good. Maybe the pieces of the barrier would help, too; I could say I'd been keeping them all this time as talismans against the wraith, like Connor and others did with small mirrors.

“Do you think His Highness would reconsider allowing me back onto the wraith mitigation committee?”

James lifted an eyebrow.

“While I was ill, I did a lot of thinking and remembering. I might have more information we didn't cover before.”

“I can't promise anything, but I will ask.” The dance finished with a flute trill and flourish. The dancers bowed and curtsied. James checked on the prince, then offered his hand. “Shall we dance the next?”

As the musicians began playing, I took my place before him and curtsied. He bowed.

“Last time we danced,” James said, “you mentioned you enjoyed sewing.”

Had I? So much had happened since then, but I had a vague memory of saying sewing when I meant fighting.

“But I've heard rumors from certain ladies you hardly participate when they meet in the ladies' solar. Have you given up such pursuits?”

“Of course not.” I summoned a blush. “Though my focus has shifted toward stopping the wraith, since my experiences in
the wraithland.” How strange, being able to reference my time in that nightmare and have it be true.

James nodded, sympathy in his eyes. “I imagine it has. My grandmother enjoyed knitting and needlepoint, and she made many fine things. But she tended to do that only when she was working on a separate problem. She said it helped her focus.”

My thoughts flashed to another boy mentioning his grandmother and sewing. But certainly lots of grandmothers enjoyed that.

“Do you still draw?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” That was something I had prepared for: there was a pile of drawings in my apartments, ready as evidence. Part of me wanted to mention the Black Knife drawing to James and see his reaction, but I kept its existence to myself.

Still, they moved alike, and James smiled as much as I imagined Black Knife did.

I shook the thought away. James's voice was softer than Black Knife's. Certainly, he could change it, but wouldn't he have slipped during one of our conversations? Anyway, he was Tobiah's bodyguard, and Black Knife had declared me dangerous. If James knew I wasn't Lady Julianna, he'd have never let me get close to Tobiah.

James and I took the next few dances, talking about the music, the food, and palace gossip. As I laughed at one of his jokes, I caught a glimpse of Tobiah across the room. His jaw was clenched, and his chest expanded with a deep breath. A moment later, he leaned down to whisper in his father's ear.

“I believe your cousin is jealous that you're spending so much time with me,” I whispered as James walked me in a slow circle.
“Not that I want to give up the best—and most forgiving—dance partner, but I suspect he would appreciate your attention after this.”

James chuckled and rolled his eyes, then cast a casual glance over his shoulder. He stiffened. “He's gone. Excuse me.”

The lieutenant departed, pardoning himself as he slipped between dancers. His eyes stayed on the empty space where Tobiah had been a minute before. The king was gone, too.

Abandoned on the floor, I hesitated only a moment before following. With my gown, it was more difficult to squeeze around dancers, but I caught a flash of James moving out the door.

I emerged into a familiar hallway; the king's study was nearby, and raised voices fell from the open doorway. James hurried into the room, his movements clipped with annoyance.

With my gown gathered up to hide the rustle of silk, I crept up to the door and parked myself with my back against the wall where they wouldn't see me if they looked out.

“I can't.” Tobiah's voice was a growl.

The king's words came significantly softer, weaker. “She'll make a fine queen and a fine wife. You must.”

This wasn't my business, but I was already eavesdropping. Might as well keep listening.

“I've done everything you ever asked. Studied, trained, and made decisions on your behalf. You
know
I'm willing to do whatever it takes to be a good, strong king. Meredith has nothing to do with my being king.”

“But she does.” Terrell heaved a sigh. “I know you will make fair and wise decisions as a king. I know you will be thoughtful and patient. But I've never met anyone so opposed to interacting
with society. You come across as dismissive and uninterested. I know that's not who you truly are, but if that's how your subjects perceive you, they won't see your strength and wisdom.”

“Father—”

“Meredith is kind and well loved. The people respect her because she respects them—and she shows it. You
need
her.”

I cringed, but it wasn't as though the king was wrong. Tobiah had a most unfortunate personality for a crown prince. Well, no. He could be worse. I didn't know him well, but I didn't think he was reckless or abusive. Just . . .
bored
.

“I don't,” insisted Tobiah. “I can get better.”

“Is there something objectionable about Lady Meredith?”

Tobiah hesitated. “No. I just—I don't love her.”

There was a long pause, and I imagined the king rubbing his temples or performing some other delaying tactic. “Son, I'm dying. You know that. The kingdom needs a strong pair of rulers—and it needs an heir.”

“Don't speak so brazenly about dying.” Tobiah's voice turned rough. “Don't tempt fate, Father.”

“I'm not tempting anything. I've already made peace with what I have and haven't accomplished in my time. The only thing I have left is seeing you and Meredith married and ready to take the throne when I go.”

“Father.” The prince's voice broke. “Father, please.”

“I won't change my mind. You've given me no
good
reason to reconsider. You need Meredith for your image. She's of high rank and will make a good queen.” Though his voice was weak, Terrell sounded immovable. “Set a date. We won't have this conversation again.”

A heartbeat later, Tobiah stormed out of the office, his fists curled at his sides. His expression was raw. Wrecked. Then his glare locked on me standing there with my back pressed against the wall, obviously having listened to every word. His face turned frigid.

James strode out after the prince, and stared when he saw the prince staring at me. Then Tobiah jerked his head down the hall, and James placed his hands behind his back, the prince's obedient servant.

The prince bowed stiffly in my direction. “My cousin and I have something to discuss, but I'm sure you won't have trouble finding a new dance partner.”

I curtsied. “Good evening, Your Highness. Lieutenant.”

THE BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION
was long over and Melanie had fallen asleep in her room, but I couldn't put my mind to rest. I kept thinking about the ball, about the inquiry and the silver ospreys carrying swords and daggers into flight, and whenever my eyes closed, my imagination conjured images of immense creatures with strangely colored fur, trees with teeth, and swarms of locusts beating down on me.

“Wilhelmina.”

It wasn't real. I'd been dreaming.

I shoved my blankets to the bottom of my bed and sat up to braid my hair. A black sweater with a hood, silk scarf tucked into my shirt, trousers, and a few of my favorite weapons later, I was out the window. I told myself I was going to return to the warehouse and make sure there wasn't
actually
evidence of my being there. But by the time I was over the Hawksbill wall and scanning the Thornton skyline, I admitted the truth:

I was looking for Black Knife.

The city was quiet this late, two or three hours after midnight. Thornton was silent, and even the Flags stirred with but a fraction of their usual activity. Black Knife must have been working for hours already, and I had no idea where to find him now. In the week I'd gone on patrols with him, he'd taken us in different paths every night. If he had a routine, he hadn't shared it with me.