Page 116 of The Shadowed Oracle
Enitha rolled her eyes over to Ingrid, like a sleeping animal might when an insect buzzed about their ear. “Yes?”
“Considering the occasion. I think I speak for my brother and our business partners when I say that this gem should be a gift to you and your newly crowned husband. A show of good faith, in hopes our trade ties will strengthen with time in the Isles.”
A precious jewel worth more than any the queen wore in her golden crown, at no cost. Enitha had no choice but to match the generosity now. She scanned the young, beautiful Viator, murmurs flying amongst the crowd, giving a dramatic pause before erupting into applause.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m utterly charmed.” She twisted in her throne and jerked Gerhardt close, whispering. In response, the high council lord nodded emphatically and scurried off. “There will be a royal ball tonight,” Enitha went on. “And festivities continuing on every night for a fortnight, maybe longer. You simply must attend, I insist.”
Not wanting to appear eager, Dean convened silently with his compatriots, giving them deep, searching looks. “We’re flattered, my queen. But we do have urgent business tomorrow in?—”
“More urgent than this?” Enitha cut in.
Dean bowed instantly, withdrawing in apology. “I only meant that… we are merchants, my queen. Working folk.” He peered about the throne room, the jeweled and golden trimaccenting nearly every inch of it. “We aren’t used to such grand invitations.”
“I see.” Enitha appeared conflicted, wanting to take offense to the refusal, but flattered by the compliment.
It was all part of Dean’s plan, knowing that Enitha wanted what she couldn’t have.
“Nonsense.” The queen flicked her shining wrist at the crowd. “The cortege before you were all in your place once. Every guest here held no station higher than your own. In fact, almost all of the stuffy former court aides and retinues were, let’s say, too formal for my liking. I had them removed.” She huffed at the memory of them. “You’ll fit right in. Please, stay.”
Ingrid cut in, “I’d be honored.”
“As would I,” Tyla echoed.
“Then it’s settled,” Enitha watched them carefully as she spoke. “You’ll all stay for the ball. Yes?”
“Thank you,” Dean agreed finally. “We’dbe honored.”
Enitha raised an arm, and with a snap of her fingers, she sent two of her scantily clad servants over to the foursome, a bottle of wine in tow.
The word-walkers took the glasses, raised them, and Enitha mimicked the gesture before devouring her drink.
Within seconds, another courtier approached. A lithe and near-nude male discreetly conveyed an invitation to join the royal couple up on the dais. “To present the rest of their wares,” was the wording. But the hints the diplomatic messenger gave couldn’t have been clearer—glaring omissions, and an obvious lack of eye contact with Tyla and Ingrid.
The two males accepted.
“I’ll be fine,” Dean said, hanging back a moment.
Ingrid nodded. “I know,” she said. “Good luck.”
His hand hovered in the space between them, balling into a fist before reaching her, then he turned to follow Raidinn and the servant.
Enitha was waiting with open arms.
Chapter Thirty-Five
After socializingfor far longer than Ingrid was comfortable with, a flock of lady’s maids swept her and Tyla away to the guest rooms in the back of the castle to clean up and change. The royal ballroom had been prepared, and many of the guests from the throne room had already been transplanted, setting the desired mood and appearances for the queen’s fashionably late arrival.
Raidinn and Dean remained at Enitha’s side for the entirety of their time in the throne room, though Ingrid did catch the attention of Dean as she was spirited away. He gave her a slight nod of assurance, giving her proof that he was still himself.
The stone fortress was mostly empty as she and Tyla followed the maids to their rooms. The silent servants kept too close to discuss anything beyond what their characters would, so after they were separated into their small rooms Ingrid waited a moment, taking stock of the small chambers, the bath, the mirror and clothing rack in the corner, then peeked her head out of the door, checking if it was safe to tip toe to the neighboring room where Tyla had been placed.
In that part of the castle, the corridors were lit only by small torches spaced apart every ten feet. An overwhelming smell of that same perfume she’d scented earlier was the onlysign Viator even travelled this deep into the palace. Meaning Ingrid would be able to go where she pleased, unseen, to search for an alternate escape route. There would still be guards posted outside the trade gate, and finding another exit could be paramount in avoiding violence.
She briskly made her way down the hallway, stopping at the door she’d watched her friend enter. It was large with iron paneling, curved at the top, with an easily identifiable door knell. She pressed her ear to it, hearing nothing but silence coming from behind it, and knocked feather-light.
“Come in,” a voice that wasn’t Tyla’s answered.
Ingrid winced, her head on a swivel as she double-checked her surroundings. She swore she’d chosen the right room.
