Page 117 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
Dancing with a viceroy was a bold move—a dangerous one. It pulled her into the public eye. Not only that, but she knew all viceroys were married. All had established homes, families, or wives.
And here one was—the one who lived in the gods-damned castle, dancing with a single, lone female that wasn’t his wife. The whispers surrounding them surged, and Kora’s cheeks burned as her ears picked up on the accusations.
On the scandal.
“I wouldn’t listen to them,” Barron spoke quietly. “My wife is not well. She is in our chambers resting, tonight. I justhadto experience you for myself. Erick has kept you hidden away for far too long.”
What?
“I-I’m sorry,” Kora withdrew from his grip, unable to bear the wave of rumours and gossip encircling them. Barron paused. “This isn’t right. I willearnadmiral, not cheat my way to it.”
“Very well.” His dark eyes scanned the ballroom and the whispering faded instantly. “I must say though . . . youarestunning, Kora Cadell.” He glanced at her gown, and she clasped her arms around her body. “As stunning as the ocean. The gown was a good choice. I’m glad it fits.”
His words were gentle, like a caress, but her heart hammered.Hehad chosen the dress. She no longer felt pretty, but like the puppet he’d made her feel when they’d met earlier. Dressed up and wheeled out for him to display to the courtiers.
Barron sauntered off into the throng of dancers, black hair glistening in the moonlight. Kora hurried to the edge of the crowd, sucking in deep breaths as she steadied herself against the marble feast table.
What was she doing? What were any of them doing? This whole thing was ridiculous.War was coming.Shiftinguncomfortably in her gown, she shakily poured a goblet of what she hoped was strong wine.
46
That was some show.” Bree poured a goblet of wine, nudging it across the table towards Kora’s empty one.
“I didn’t know he was a viceroy.” She swiped the golden goblet, hoping it was a peace offering. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear this broken friendship. She’d been ready to sacrifice Blake at the station, setting him free, before Bree had trampled all over her grand gesture.
Swigging the goblet, she coughed, sloshing the hazy, bitter liquid.
“Please.You were doing this for attention. You wanted to make Blake jealous.”
Why would Blake be jealous of Barron? He was old and creepy. Kora spluttered on her wine, downing its soured remains. That wine was off, but she wouldn’t waste a single enticing drop.
“You’ve got to be joking. I didn’t even know he was Admiral Barron until today!”
Bree smirked. Her dress was a vision, its golden opulence dazzling, nearly blinding Kora. A small golden tiara, infused with emeralds, rested on her nest of braids, and Bree flicked them over her shoulder as she poured a second goblet of wine for herself.
“I suppose that’s only somethingimportantpeople would know.”
Kora smashed her goblet down on the table and it cracked around the foot, the marble splintering.She splayed her fingers, hoping to cover the cracks to the valuable table. She’d have to watch that newfound strength.
“Since when . . . did you become such a . . . bitch?” Her words slurred. Did she just call her friend a bitch? What was wrong with her?
Bree scoffed, her eyes piercing Kora. They flickered to her scar, and her face twisted. “No point covering up something so . . . ugly. Everyone here knows that you’re nothing. You’re a lost reject, taken under the wing of a notable commodore. You’re a charity case, nothing more. A thorn in the empire’s side. My family’s side. Theypityyou, Kora. You don’t belong here.”
The familiar haze blanketed her mind, and Bree’s words bounced off it, numbing Kora to her core. She mumbled incoherently, and Bree’s musical laugh filled her ears as she glided away, her skirts trailing on the marble floor, walking like she owned the gods-damned place.
Oh, wait. She fucking did.
Whenever Erick approached, Kora evaded him at every corner, all the while continuously helping herself to goblet after goblet of wine. She twirled across the dancefloor, slipping in the heels, her ankles barking in protest.
Bracing against a marble pillar wreathed in white and green sheets to catch her breath, Blake’s laughter swarmed her ears.
Peering round the pillar, her nerves escalated as the Hydrafort family lingered nearby, dominating the room like royalty. Their gowns and robes matched Blake’s attire of black and green, with Bree centred in the group like a shining, golden nugget. Her parents—Otto and Rashi—beamed at Blake, whilst Bree’s younger siblings, Theodore and Alodie, observed the feast.
She’d spent weeks with them all, visiting Bree when she’d broken her arm a near decade ago. A cold family towards outsiders, but they regarded each other on shiny, towering pedestals. They all still looked like they possessed lances up their arses.
The former sibling exuded disinterest, fidgeting in his suit, pimples marking his adolescent face, whilst Alodie’s huge eyes sparkled, until they landed on Kora, recognition flashing. She tugged on Rashi’s skirt, dainty finger pointing to the pillar, and Kora fled, tripping in her heels as she lunged into the heated dancefloor.
Bodies propelled her across the space, her mind lost in a hazy, bitter sea that left a bad taste in her mouth. She spun and spun, unable to tell which way was up or down, until a pair of thick hands landed on her shoulders.
