Page 109 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Do you mind wearing … gloves?” I asked.
Rationally, I knew she wasn’t Blessed, but I still didn’t like a stranger’s exposed skin so close to my own. The thought alerted me to how quickly I’d stopped worrying about it with Hart once I’d finally told him the truth.
Penelope smiled sadly like she understood—she probably did. I gestured to a pair of mine lying on the table. Once she pulled them on, she was right back in my face with the dark crayon. I blinked rapidly as she pressed forward. I’d never had such attention.
“It’ll go faster if you don’t flinch as much,” she said gently.
Oh, how I wished that was within my control. “Sorry.”
There was no fixing this behavior. As Hart had said, the necessary actions I’d taken to protect myself had made me who I was. It wouldn’t change overnight.
When her work was finished, Penelope stepped back and smiled. “There. You look lovely.”
She picked up a matching mask from the box. It tied with a black satin ribbon around my head.
I stood. “Thank you.”
A looking glass was propped in the corner of the room by the wardrobe. Hesitantly, I stepped before it. As I did, Penelope offered matching slippers for my feet. They were much thinner than my usual leather boots, but the delicate material matched the elegance of the evening. And I did look elegant.
With a final nod to me in the mirror, Penelope left. The hairstyle she’d chosen highlighted my slim neck. The dress’s dip guided my eye to more skin than I had ever shown in public. Those arriving to seek the raptures of a Blessed’s touch would wear much less, but still, I hesitated.
Nothing about this made me comfortable—but tonight wasn’t about being comfortable. It was about getting through the evening and getting to the mines. The sooner I arrived at the Masquerade, the sooner we could leave.
Hart entered, a dark gray mask covering his face like his helmet usually did for formal occasions. He held himself apart as he glimpsed the front of the dress in the mirror’s reflection. His pupils dilated, making his hooded gaze darker, demanding.
“Do you want to wear that?” It seemed to take some effort for him to get the words out.
I’d be offended by the question if I didn’t know why he was asking. He knew my preferences better than most. Our proximity over the last few days had made him more than aware.
My silence must have made him realize how his words sounded. “You’re perfect,” he continued, nervous energy seemed to fuel his words. “Absolutely beautiful. I just …”
“I know,” I said. “It’s fine.”
He looked like he’d argue further, but we had more pressing matters to take care of tonight.
I slipped on black gloves to match the mask and dress’s lacing. “We might as well get this over with.”
He offered me his arm. “I’ll never get over this.”
I couldn’t help how my chest fluttered. I told myself it was just nerves. We had a big night. We’d make an appearance at the Masquerade, ensure the prince saw me, and then we’d trek to the mines. If everything went according to plan, we’d free the captive tonight.
33
More than the fate of the Kingdom will hang in the balance between them.
— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS
My mind was already elsewhere as we entered the throne room. The double doors were open wide—inviting—so different from my meeting days ago. Candelabras on gold metal stands lined the room, and a chandelier of the same hung above us. Many of the alcoves already had the drapes pulled. At first glance across the room, I couldn’t begin to guess how many magicless citizens danced with the Blessed.
Flashes of orange on the dancefloor indicated at least a few couples. A flash of green envy being collected for persuasion also caught my eye. The throne was empty. Prince Eliaswore a mask, but his pristine hair and dark blue dress uniform were easy to find in the center of the dancefloor.
Holding tight to Hart’s arm and still unclear about what part I played here, I pushed my shoulders back and glided into the room. We circled the perimeter, and I could not keep my attention from the alcoves. Soft noises of pleasure emanated from most that we passed. The curtains were too thick to see color, but it was all too easy to assume lust and joy were collected.
I wanted so desperately to ask what I was doing here. A jeweler wasn’t needed at the ball. Was this the reward the prince kept referring to? All things considered, maybe it wasn’t so bad. I could think of worse things they could offer under the guise of a prize.
My stomach fluttered uncomfortably. Something about Prince Elias was unsettling. He was too smooth, too sure of himself. He didn’t seem to have his father’s unassailable ability to calm, though he could wield the magic when prepared, as he’d proved on the Oldwood Trail.
His charm made him dangerous. The king had given up on people deciding to do what he wanted. Instead, he went straight for his magic and required their compliance. Unfortunately, it seemed Elias understood that the illusion of decision is more important than the actual decision-making. He took a little extra time if it meant those he influenced felt it was their idea to do what he wanted. It did seem to make a difference. Citizens flocked to him at the mines, and they’d cheered him at the Cornucopia. The same citizens shuddered in fear of his father so much that the king stopped attending events except those exclusively for the Blessed.
