Page 45 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
Chapter Eight:
Revelations After Dark
Eirwen swam through the dancers, trying not to get distracted by the beautiful blue-gold haze of the room, and hunted for Cole. Technically, she supposed, she could do this without him, but it would be much easier and much less terrifying with his assistance.
Don’t say no,she prayed silently.Please, don’t say no…
She drifted down into the throngs of people, sweeping up a goblet of wine and only remembering the proper way to drink it at the last minute. It was deliciously sweet; meant to be savoured, not knocked back like the dwarven ale she’d grown accustomed to. She was all at once overwhelmed with familiarity and completely out of her depth. This was her world, once. She had adored these affairs, the glamorous people, the fine food, the dancing with her Papa.
Her Papa. This was the first time she had been to a ball without him.
Don’t lose focus. Find Cole.
It was difficult to find anyone amidst so much colour and sound, and there were many dark-haired men on the dancefloor. Few matched his height, but it still wasn’t much to go on. She moved around the tables carefully, appraising every man who matched his form, drifting onto the balconies and into the gardens. She couldn’t believe so much nobility existed in the world, how opulent everything was. A single ring on most of their fingers could have fed a family for a year. Ridiculous, extravagant.
I would not have cared, if I had never left. I would never know the true value of wealth.
Finally, she found herself in a small corridor away from the main hall. A dozen portraits stared down at her. She knew them all. King Aldred 3rd, a jolly, benevolent man. King Toryn 1st, his warmongering son. Her great-grandmother, Richildis 2nd, a fair ruler with a love of horses, great aunt Marigold, who ran off with a scullery maid,and–
Mother.
It had been so long since Eirwen had seen her likeness, she had almost forgotten her face entirely. It was now more a mirror thana painting. Eirwen saw a face almost exactly like it every morning. It could only have been painted a few years before she died. They were almost the same age.
It was hard to miss something you never had, especially when Eirwen had Niamh to cling to, but just for a moment, she thought about how different life would have been if she’d lived. How much easier. How much less painful.
But there would be no cottage in the woods. No Ivy and Juniper, no Garnet and Onyx, no Merry and Oakley and Wren.
No choice. No trade. It did not bear thinking about.
Eirwen felt someone stop behind her. “If you stand there any longer, people are going to notice the similarities.”
She spun round. A tall, slim figure in midnight blue stood behind her in the shadows, his body almost part of them. An elaborate silver mask shone out of the darkness, high cheekbones dusted with shimmering paint. Cole.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Lady, I would recognise your illustrious beauty under any guise–”
“Cole.”
“You’re standing next to a portrait of your mother. I put the two together. Now, mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
“I have a request.”
“Is it a dance?” he said, stepping out of the shadows. “A single night of passion? I shall, of course, oblige–”
“Could you please stop flirting with me?”
“Why? Are you finding me too irresistible?”
“No, too irritating. We have a job to do.”
“I must say, I like the sound of ‘we’. Am I allowed to flirt with you when wedon’thave a job to do?”
Eirwen ignored him, retrieving a tiny vial and a ring from the pocket she’d sewn into her dress.
“That wasn’t a no…”
“This ring compels the wearer to tell the truth. I was hoping you would be willing to convince your mother to wear it, to get to the bottom of this matter.”
