Page 23 of Her Dark Reflection

He flushed pink and fumbled his reply, turning it into a garbled string of sounds I couldn’t make head nor tail of. I wanted to sigh, but I refrained from doing so as I waited a few more moments for him to attempt to mumble something coherent before I jumped in and talked over the top of him.

‘Because we have a code amongst maisera,’ I said, and he fell quiet, ‘we don’t covet shared beds.’

His eyebrows shot up towards his receding hairline. ‘I’m sorry? You don’t what?’

‘If a gentleman is a patron of another maisera, we don’t try and take him for ourselves.’

‘I think I am misunderstanding you. I don’t… I haven’t…’

‘There’s no need to be so coy, my lord.’ I leaned forward and lowered my voice. ‘Vanaria has talked about you so often over the past few days. We all know she’s got her sights set on you.’

His eyes flicked back towards the centre of the hall, his eyebrows climbing even higher. ‘She has?’

‘Oh, yes. Ever since you helped her from her tumble, she’s been fixated on having you for herself. You were just so caring, checking on her so often to make sure she was alright. I think you quite won her over.’

A puzzled look stole over his face and a frown doused the light of hope that had sparked in his eyes. ‘Are you sure? She seems occupied with someone else most of the time.’

‘Oh, she’s just toying with you,’ I said, waving him off. ‘She knows how fond of hunting you are. She’s waiting for you to give chase.’

The reference to hunting seemed to bolster him and he puffed out his chest. ‘If she wants to play at hunting, I’ll show her a thing of two. I always catch my prize.’

‘I only hope you haven’t kept her waiting too long. She might think you’ve lost interest, the poor thing.’

‘You’re right. No time to waste.’ He rose to his feet, then seemed to remember that he was supposed to be helping me. ‘You’re alright now?’ he asked half-heartedly.

‘Somuch better. Go and win your prize. Iadorea good love story.’

He grinned and marched back into the fray, nodding to himself and looking every bit a puffed-up fool. I snorted as I watched him go, imagining Vanaria’s face when he cornered her somewhere. All that rubbish about hunting ought to make him persistent enough to buy me some time without her lurking around.

As I was looking around for another tray of champagne, I caught sight of Senafae. She was standing between two mirrors, intently engaged in conversation with a blond man in a beaked mask and dark blue cloak. He had a hold of her hand and was playing with her bracelet. I started to move towards her, but as I drew closer her companion laughed and I realised she was with the Oceatold prince. Well, good for her then. I wouldn’t interrupt her. Faucher surely had to have his paws on Vanaria by now in any case, so I had no time to waste.

The noise in the hall crowded my ears after the relative quiet of the alcove, but I plunged into the din of voices and music with a confidence renewed by the warm kiss of the champagne. Darting through the crowd, I made my way back through the encircling walls of mirrors to where I’d last seen the king, but he wasn’t there any longer. Cursing under my breath, I looked around the hall, over the couples twirling their way around the floor and the hopefuls clustered around the edges, whispering of scandals and eying potential partners. The mirrors reflected the room back from dozens of different angles, duplicating each guest a hundred times over into the infinite distance. Marvels and monsters, indeed.

I’d never find him in here.

Chewing on my lip as my gaze roamed the galleries and across the fresco above, where the fall of Aether was rendered in a stunning display of colour, I considered where a king would spend a ball. If not dancing, then where? What did I know of kings and how they spent their time?

I wandered aimlessly for a few songs and was rewarded by a glimpse of Vanaria standing with her back against a wall, her eyes darting about as Lord Faucher spoke to her with obvious passion, gesturing wildly with his hands and leaning close to her. Hopefully he was as dogged and oblivious as I suspected him to be and would keep her cornered for a while yet.

As I watched them, I caught a whiff of something that incited a hollow protest in my stomach, which sparked an idea. I’d wait in the dinner room. Even kings had to eat.

I jolted in shock as a hand clasped around my upper arm.

‘I’ve finally found you, pet,’ a voice rasped into my ear. ‘Whose idea was it to dress you all the same?’

The shock held me frozen, but only for a moment, and as I realised who the voice belonged to, I jerked away from him. ‘Please don’t sneak up on me, Grand Weaver,’ I said as I scowled at my arm. The paint was smeared slightly where his fingers had been.

‘I want you to play me a song. Somewhere private.’

‘I’m not available for private performances at the moment.’ My irritation slipped the bonds of my control and leaked into my voice. I’d fended him off at every event I’d attended, and I was getting tired of his persistence.

‘You’d do well to treat me with a little more care, you know. I’m one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. There is much I could do for you.’ His words ran into each other on the way out of his mouth, and I realised he’d been drinking. It made me wary. After all, I knew better than most how volatile an intoxicated man could be. Was he the type to weep into his cup, or the type to want to watch others do the weeping?

As much as it irked me to waste any time, I forced a smile and touched his arm. ‘Of course, Grand Weaver. You honour me with your attention. But I must remain in the hall until midnight,’ I said, improvising. ‘Perhaps I can find you afterwards?’

He wound a hand around my waist and pulled me against him. ‘Or I’ll come find you.’

‘If you’d prefer,’ I said as I peeled myself away from him. ‘How about you have a seat and I’ll go and fetch you a plate of supper?’

---