Page 20 of Beyond Those Gilded Walls

“Go back to your business,” he ordered, looking over my head. The small crowd that had gathered skittered away, leaving us alone in the throng of dancers. His head tilted as he looked back at me.

I hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t been this close, but his eyes were not blue, but gray. Not a blue so pale it looked gray, but the true gray of a storm cloud, of ashes in a fireplace, of a cold and bleak winter morning. The gray of a tombstone.

The tightness of his jaw eased as he looked over me, tilting his head. Studying me. He did not speak again, and I didn’t dare make the same mistake twice. I would bite my own tongue in two before I would utter another word in this ballroom.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his mouth opened, but his gaze once again flickered over my head. Something in his eyes changed once more, and I realized now that this man was not just important here—he was dangerous.

The look in his eyes was now like the gray of steel and iron rather than that of storm clouds and ashes. Hard and defiant. Deadly. With one last glance down at me, he nodded and turned on his heel.

Deep breaths steadied me, and I stood there until I was able to walk without feeling like my knees might buckle. I’d been extremely lucky in that encounter. My anger had made me careless, and being careless would only end with me dead.

I grasped the tray tighter and finished my rounds to collect empty glasses, focusing only on placing each foot in front of the other, holding the tray upright, and not getting in anyone’s way.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the tray was full, and I had an excuse to retreat to the kitchens. I caught a glimpse of the masked man again as I made my exit, and he raised his glass at me, the smirk once again on his lips. The deadly man was gone, replaced again by this teasing one that sent my heart racing and my hands trembling.

I sped up my steps.

Safely back in the kitchens, I all but tossed the tray onto the counter, pulling at the shroud until I was free from it.

“Odyssa, what happened?” Zaharya asked, putting down the bottle of wine she’d been using to refill glasses and coming over to my side.

I shrugged off her hand on my shoulder and pushed my hands through my hair. Even now, words refused to come out of my mouth, hiding behind my teeth instead. Ash and smoke burst across my tongue and I squeezed my eyes shut just as the cat flickered into existence at my feet.

“What’s wrong with her?” Maricara’s voice could hardly be described as concerned. It should have spurned my anger, but instead, all it did was pull frantic laughter from my chest until I was sliding to the floor, gasping for breath. “Well, she certainly did not last long.”

“That’s enough,” Zaharya snapped. She and Talyssa squatted down beside me, still in their shrouds. “Odyssa,what happened?”

I shook my head again, biting down on my tongue. I could not tell them what had led to the events, could not admit that the man in the skull mask had looked at me with pity when I thought he would hit me.

“She bumped into Tallon and almost dropped her tray. He caught it for her and then shespoke.” Elena’s voice had all our heads snapping towards her. She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed beneath the shroud, and even through the purple fabric and the unshed tears in my eyes, I could see the frown on her face. “And then he was about to touch her shoulder and she flinched. The prince came in shortly after.”

Silence held dominion over the room for one heartbeat, two, three. And then three echoing voices said at once, “What?”

The judgement in the collective voice was deafening. There were too many things to focus on, and I could feel the room starting to spin. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I tucked my head between them. The skull-masked man was Tallon. Elena had seen everything. Tallon had been about to touch me. The prince had come in.Elena had seen everything.

My mind was spinning.

“I did not mean to,” I said, voice muffled by my knees. I could feel their stares on my back. Someone was looking at the marks that stretched down my neck into my gloves. Cold washed over my foot and when I lifted my head, the cat was sitting on top of my foot, looking at me. Its wide yellow eyes held something akin to concern, and for a moment, almost looked human. “Someone thought I was eavesdropping when I lingered to offer them a drink. The man got upset and pushed me into the other man. He—Tallon—caught me and the tray. All I said was thank you.”

“She touched his hand,” Elena added.

“You must be more careful,” Zaharya said. She reached out her hand to touch my shoulder again, and this time, I did not stop her. “You are very lucky it happened before the prince entered.”

“Why?” I turned my gaze away from my feet—from the cat—and focused on her pursed lips beneath her shroud.

“It would have been much worse than whatever blow you thought Tallon was going to deliver.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What does that mean?”

Maricara pushed off the counter, pulling up the ends of her dress and veil, and squatted in front of my feet. I tried not to focus on how the cat scurried away and moved to my side with an irritated look and flick of its tail. “Pray to whatever gods are left that you never find out.”

Beside me, the cat nodded. It rubbed its head against my hand wrapped around my shin, sending ice-cold tingles into my skin.

ChapterEleven

Zaharya told me to stay the rest of the party in the kitchen. None of them were willing to risk someone telling the prince about my misstep, and I was grateful for the intervention.

I knew I wouldn’t be granted this much grace for much longer. I needed to get my mind together, to focus on what was important and shut out all else. My mother’s words about my anger being my death sentence could not come true. Other lives depended on me, and I needed to swallow my pride and leash my temper. By whatever means necessary.

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