Page 14 of Her Dark Reflection

‘A songbird? Come, treat us to a tune,’ he said, sweeping his arm towards a small group who sat huddled together in a corner of the room. I followed him with my heart pounding, surveying the gathered men for more sigils.

‘What’s this?’ The words were spoken in the lilting accent of Oceatold and came from the mouth of a large, red-faced man clutching a tankard in his fist, his eyes twinkling at me. ‘I will not buy your fall spawn at the price you ask, Dovegni, no matter how pretty a girl you seek to distract me with.’

I felt my face pale. I perched on an empty chair and arranged my lute with hands that now trembled.Dovegni.Everyone knew that name. It was signed on every Custody Notice, those dreaded red envelopes served to the nearest kin of those who would soon be chained to a pyre. Grand Weaver Dovegni. The head of the guild. Not only had I encountered a druthi, but I had managed to find myself before the most powerful one in all of Brimordia.

‘I believe our negotiations are at an end for today, Perrius. You’re about to discover our host’s famed hospitality,’ Dovegni replied as he sank into a chair.

I began plucking at the strings of my lute, sweat prickling on my forehead as I felt his eyes on me. Draven may have laughed off my concerns, but I remembered the soot stains on the road by the gate of the palace all too clearly. I was sure at any moment he would suddenly jump to his feet, declare me a witch, and call for my arrest. I could picture his face at the head of a courtroom all too clearly, the cold smile he would wear as he gave evidence before the Grand Paptich. But he simply watched me play as the other men returned to their conversations, his fingers twisting at a ring on his left hand, set with an enormous black stone that glinted with veins of blue.

Around the room, the other maisera were converting the focus of the guests, deftly smoothing over the transition from business to pleasure. Senafae moved towards me when I caught her eye and she listened to me play for a few moments before beginning to sing.

‘I had once a young love,

When spring was fresh and new.

His hands could calm wild horses,

His smile was bright as dew.’

Her voice was as exquisite as she had promised: as high and as clear as a mountain stream. Eyes all across the room turned to watch her and conversation grew hushed. I glanced at Vanaria just as the king turned his attention away from her and she looked as though she might start breathing fire.

‘He held me oh so tightly

Through sweltering summer nights,

But when autumn leaves were turning

Another drew his sight.’

Dovegni continued to watch me as Senafae sang, twisting obsessively at his ring. His eyes weighed on me like shackles and sweat prickled at my brow. I needed to get out from under his attention.

‘Now my skin is cold as winter,

My heart a dying thing,

But the thaw is drawing closer

And love can bloom in spring.’

‘What a fine song,’ a deep voice thrummed, and I glanced behind me to see the king standing by and watching our performance. ‘And even finer musician,’ he added, his eyes settling on me. I held his gaze and let a few final chords fade away. But before I could rise from my seat, the young man in the Oceatold sash appeared by his side and drew him into conversation, leading him away from me.

As impatient as this made me, I soothed myself with the knowledge that I had already caught his eye enough for him to wander over. After all, easily won was less valuable. I could command his attention from across the room.

‘Forgive me if I seem a little flustered. I’ve never seen so many important men in one place before. And I had no idea you would all be so handsome,’ I said, widening my eyes as I looked around at the group who had congregated to hear the song. Several chuckles broke out and a few chairs were dragged closer.

A kindly-looking man with watery eyes and an embroidered waistcoat settled himself at my right and watched me with rapt attention. When he caught my gaze, he turned his surprisingly plump mouth in a tentative smile. ‘High Lord Faucher at your service, madame,’ he said with a nod, before adding ‘of Renia,’ with a slight jutting out of his chest.

‘A pleasure to meet you,HighLord Faucher,’ I simpered, offering my hand. ‘I’m very fond of Renian wine.’ I’d never met a High Lord before and found myself disappointed by how ordinary he looked, not that I was going to let him know that. If all the estates in Renia were beholden to him, he must be very rich.

Without waiting for further invitation, he launched into a rolling commentary on the grape crop this season, then began regaling me with stories of his latest hunting exploits, interspersed with advice on breeding good hunting horses. I was tremendously bored within a few minutes, but he didn’t seem to notice, requiring no more from me than the occasional nod and murmured ‘oh, really.’

‘My Lord,’ I finally interrupted him as I watched the blond man in the sash continue to monopolise the king. ‘I feel so lost amongst all these fine people; I could use your help. Could you tell me, who is that over there?’ I pointed at the man.

Lord Faucher blinked himself out of his tangent on the soft hooves of eastern horse breeds to look to where I was pointing. ‘Prince Tallius of Oceatold.’

PrinceTallius. Interesting. ‘Is he the prince set to marry Princess Gwinellyn?’

And when Faucher leaned a little closer and lowered his voice, I was delighted to discover that this fusty old man was a gossip. ‘Theoretically,’ he said. ‘Poor fellow has been loitering around the court for years waiting for His Majesty to finally grant them an official engagement. I hear,’ he lowered his voice to just above a whisper, ‘he is a bit of bed hopper while he waits. Already has himself a sack of wild oats, so to speak.’

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