Page 15 of Beyond Those Gilded Walls

I fully intended to go back to the kitchens, but the smoke burned my throat and my steps faltered. The cat reappeared, sitting directly at my feet. It looked up at me, tilting its head before turning and walking away. Only a few steps away, it looked back over its shoulder, once again revealing just howwrongit was as its head was nearly completely backwards looking at me.

“Am I to follow you?” I asked, the words coming out on a disbelieving breath.

If a cat could smile, that one did.

I followed the cat down the hall and up a short staircase until we stopped in front of another small alcove. Unlike the ones deep in the tunnels, this one had a balcony overlooking the ballroom, though it and the alcove were both cloaked in shadow and set in the back of the room. No one would see me up here from the ballroom below, and I would be free to watch them as I wished.

The cat leapt up onto the balcony handrail with ease, turning her back to the party.

A trickle of sweat rolled down my spine as I set the trays down on a small table nestled in the corner and stepped up to the balcony next to the cat. I wanted to rip the shroud from my body, to tear away the gloves. It was all so suffocating, the fabric heavy and itchy.

“Oh, little friend,” a deep male voice cooed. I tensed, my eyes flicking about the alcove, but no one was there. “What are you doing here this evening?”

The feline equivalent of an eyeroll followed the rumbling voice, the cat sending me a look of exasperation that should not have been possible. And with that, the cat disappeared.

Rushing to the balcony where she’d been, my hands wrapped around the wood, the lace of my gloves scratching against my skin. I searched for the cat, but there was nothing. No flickering mist and no burning smoke on the back of my tongue.

A metallic glimmer caught my eye down on the ballroom floor. In the corner of the room stood a man dressed in all black, seemingly ignoring the theme for the night, as the rest of the partygoers were in outfits that were over the top and elaborate interpretations of the night sky. His outfit was simple comparatively. A black coat with silver buttons running up the front of it over a black shirt and fitted black trousers tucked into black boots.

The top of his face was obscured by a mask in the image of a skull, but one that had been dipped in molten silver, catching the light and casting shadows across his sharp jawline.

He stood out for more than just his attire, too, as he was the only one not dancing. Instead he stood, studying the rest of the room with a frown upon his lips. Others gave him a wide berth, dancers avoiding the bubble around him as if there were a physical barrier around him. One couple stumbled as they neared him, hands tightening on each other as they passed back into the crowd.

The small act of rebellion against the apparent norm of the ball was appreciated, but regardless of if he was enjoying himself or not, his presence here meant one thing and one thing only. He was friends with the prince, and that meant he would not be any friend of mine.

As if he felt my stare on him, his head turned and he looked up, directly at me. The frown morphed, pulling up at the corners of his lips into a crooked smirk. The smirk grew slowly as he watched me, pushing off the wall completely and turning his whole body to face me. Even from here, I could see the white of his teeth as his smirk morphed into a full-blown smile.

Every muscle in my body froze, and I was unable to look away. It was impossible. Surely he could not see me, not through the shadows I was cloaked in and the distance between us. Perhaps he felt someone looking at him, but he should not have been able to look up and find me with such immediacy. Yet he had.

“Well, who are you, little wolf?” The voice sounded as if it were right beside me, but there was no one. There was no taste of smoke and ash on my tongue, no feeling of a body beside mine. My eyes still fixed on him, I watched the masked man’s lips move in time with the words I heard beside me. I felt the words on my ear, his breath washing over the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine that I was not sure were entirely from fear. “Not to worry, I’ll find out for myself soon enough.”

The gasp left me before I could stop it, and I clutched at my chest and staggered back, trying to keep from making another sound. I could see him laughing down below, and for a split second, I wondered what it would sound like as his head tipped back and he raised his glass in my direction.

Picking up the ends of the fabric that kissed the floor, I whirled and all but ran back to the safety of the kitchen. An illusion I knew, given how the man had spoken to me, but my choices were limited, and at least I could convince myself otherwise for a moment.

ChapterEight

The party continued until the sun rose, casting rays of red-tinged gold to illuminate the shame peddled in this godsforsaken place. Thankfully, I had little time to ponder the masked stranger after our first encounter. From the moment I burst back into the kitchen, I was busy. Cleaning trays and refilling them, assisting where I could, and listening to instructions barked from the others on what to remember, how to act, and who to avoid.

I would have done anything to avoid going back to the ballroom, to avoid being in the same room as him. Even the memory of his wide smile, of his breath against my ear, sent chills down my spine, and not the sensual kind. There was something as wrong with that man as there was with the cat he clearly knew.

It was a good reminder to not become complacent. Though the girls had been pleasant enough, I was on unfamiliar ground, in a castle of people who would likely watch me die for entertainment before they would lift a finger to offer any assistance. My mother needed me to focus, to remember why I was here. My brothers hated me, but I would ensure their survival. If there was a cure in this godsforsaken place, I would find it and I would get it to Rhyon and Emyl. Spite and fury fueled me, and behind my mask, behind my walls, I could embrace that.

I was ready to fall asleep where I stood, my eyelids heavy and drooping. But we had to clean the kitchens before we could sleep so that the day staff could begin their own tasks. All that remained was to gather any remaining drinkware from the ballroom.

Zaharya had nominated the two of us for the task, wanting to show me the ballroom in the predawn light.

It was far different in the golden sunrise than in the dark of night, illuminated by extravagant chandeliers and candelabras that now lay dormant. In the day, it was cavernous. Every sound echoed off the walls.

Glasses and crumbs were everywhere in the ballroom, strewn aside and discarded with little care. I should have expected it, given the lack of care the revelers exhibited towards the rest of the suffering kingdom, but the sight of the glasses twinkling in the rising sun had my fists clenching at my sides.

At least we did not have to hide beneath the veils any longer.

The prince and his ilk had retreated to their rooms as the sun had just begun to lighten the sky, the skull-masked stranger along with them. It was only the two of us in here now, and only the sound of tinkling shards of glass and hard crumbs of food being tossed into wastebins filled the ballroom.

“Where did all these people come from?” I picked up a pair of unbroken glasses, inspecting them for any cracks before setting them on the tray to be washed and reused for tonight.

“For the parties?” Zaharya did not pause from her own tasks, did not raise her eyes from the floor. She continued before I could answer. “Oh, royal advisors, friends of the king, friends of the prince. When the mist settled and they realized what it was, they pulled everyone in here for safety and planning supposedly. And then they just never left again.”

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