Page 18 of Grave Flowers
I made my way to the stairs, centered myself on the top one, and stopped. A few guests close to the staircase noticed me. They nudged each other and pointed. It was all I needed. News of my arrival spread across the ballroom in a wave. Faces upturned until everyone stared as though I were a comet streaking across the sky. The news, carried on whispers and gasps, reached Aeric and his group. A few young men shouldered each other and nodded toward me. One elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention and pointed. He laughed and tried to push his companion off.
Then Aeric saw me.
During my observation, he’d been stumbling about, laughter spilling from him every few seconds. The minute his gaze landed on me, he stilled, eyes widening like a deer spotting the archer about to slay it. I didn’t understand the surprise. It passed so quickly, I wondered if I’d imagined it. A lazy grin spread across his lips. He said something to those closest to him, and they doubled over, trying to suppress their laughter. With great focus, he composed himself and handed his goblet and wine bottle to his friends. He sauntered over to the bottom of the stairs as though he had all the time in the world. Then he stopped, waiting for me to descend. I gave a slight nod to the royal announcer.
“We are graced by Her Royal Highness, the princess of Radix, Madalina Tachibana Sinet, our future queen consort of Acus,” the announcer thundered.
I stepped onto the first stair.
Given how wide my skirt was, I should’ve used the rail, but I didn’t, willing myself to make it down without so much as a waver. Inessa would never use the rail, refusing to show even an inkling of need for support, even on stairs. By Family fortune, my training in dance keptme steady, my inner balance strong enough to counter the impediment of the skirt.
Everyone stared—which I was used to. In Radix, I was the axis of every court party. But here … I didn’t know what I was. I didn’t know who the eyes belonged to or the thoughts passing through the minds behind them. I didn’t know anything, not even what the wine would taste like or what the dances were, yet I was supposed to avenge Inessa and murder Aeric. Panic filled me. I tried to force it away, but it wouldn’t let me go.
I wished to look anywhere but at Aeric. I attempted to focus on the empty space above the crowd. I missed a step. My heart jumped as I floundered. My gaze wavered and dropped, latching on to Aeric’s eyes with the intractability of a lock once it’s been clicked into place by its key. The smile remained on his lips. Annoyance strengthened me and helped me regain my stability. I didn’t smile back, but I didn’t dare look elsewhere. If I did, I would stumble again. He had become the equilibrium for my descent, even as my loathing for him grew with each step.
Once I reached the floor, Aeric bowed, then simply said, “Your Highness.”
“A pleasure,” I said, curtsying. I needed to be strong, but it seemed the walk down the stairs had drained me, as though I were a leaking vessel through which strength only passed through and did not fully dwell within. I did not trust myself to meet his gaze, but that left me looking at his lips. Embarrassment surged through me, and I dropped my line of sight but found myself staring at his chest,Kingat my eye level. Horror replaced the embarrassment, and I lowered my gaze once more—which then put his midsection into my view. My face flushed pink as though I’d been the one drinking wine, not him.
“The pleasure is mine,” he said. His voice was so formal, it drew my attention back to his face. “Would you care to dance?”
“I’m not so sure you’re in any state to be spinning around,” I said, trying to regain my dignity. Most rulers would be insulted at my breach ofetiquette, but he laughed. I stared, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t laughing at me—he was laughing at my comment—but it unnerved me more than if he’d drawn a blade.
“A fair point, Your Highness,” he said, balancing himself with effort. “A glass of wine, perhaps?”
“Is there any left? I think you’ve drunk it all.”
At that, the laughter spread. The guests weren’t afraid of laughing at Aeric’s expense. Clearly, he had no control over his court.
“Well, then,” he said, once the mirth subsided, “you don’t wish to dance, and you don’t wish to drink … what would you like to do?”
Without a word, I moved past him. The crowd parted before me, amusement flashing in their eyes. Cold air wafted around my exposed neck and chest, and I longed for my old dresses. My hands wished to pull my hair down over my shoulders and my arms wished to curl about myself. I was lost within my own body, a bizarre sensation after years of endless dance lessons had made it mine to command. I reached the dais where the two chairs were and ascended. I turned to face the guests and sank onto the cushion of the left-hand chair.
“Sit,” I said to Aeric. “I wish to sit.”
There was another moment of keen silence, one so sharp that it could cut. No one appeared particularly upset, but the moment was fraught with more than mere enthrallment. An uneasy curiosity gave it weight. Some of the guests nudged each other and leaned over to whisper behind their hands. Gazes flickered from me to Aeric and back again. The court was judging, evaluating, assessing—all things the king should be doing. But the current reigning monarch, Aeric, was simply smiling, his grin somehow growing even lazier.
“You’ve traveled far, Your Highness. Sit as much as you like.” He turned away, as though my installation in the chair had completed his responsibilities to me for the night. He gestured to the crowd. “But, for the rest of you miscreants, I command you to dance and drink untildawn. If you don’t, it’s off with your heads! Horatio, my goblet and my bottle are empty! Rectify it, my friend.”
Rowdy cheers broke out, and the crowd converged around Aeric. Horatio grabbed Aeric’s neck and playfully pulled his head back to pour more wine down his throat while the others clapped and laughed. Music swelled, and the party burst back to life, guests throwing their arms around each other to dance and embrace and kiss. The entire ballroom swayed, as though it, too, were as drunk as Aeric. Even the walls seemed to lean in and then out, the mirrors giving the party’s movements back to itself. The glass figurines shivered and swung as the ballroom reverberated with the thunderous footsteps. It reminded me of water being pushed from one end of a tub to the other so that it sloshed up against the rim but somehow never tipped over the edge.
I tried to ignore Aeric and analyze who knew whom, but as the hours progressed, wine made friends of everyone. It was tremendously different than Radixan court parties, where groups were clear and no one drank to excess for fear their wits would be dulled. Here, arms slipped about each other, lips met, shoes and slippers stumbled and scuffed across the marble. It truly seemed like a party, one where there was no aim other than to have fun. I was perplexed by the meaninglessness.
Soon, I found myself tracking Aeric’s sloppy movements across the ballroom. Not once did he seek out my gaze or even glance in my direction. Instead of me ignoring him,hewas ignoringme.No, not ignoring me. He’d forgotten all about me.
The entire party had.
I had to reassert myself.
Father would never let himself be pushed to the side, especially at a foreign court.
Except Father demanded control by brutality. Once, at age five, I’d sat next to Inessa at a banquet. We giggled together, oblivious to theworld happening above our heads, the one filled with plots, power, and perdition. All I knew was that in one moment, Inessa was making me laugh by mimicking Orios’s meow, and then the next moment, we were doused in cold fluid. A tart smell filled my nose, and drops of tangy, bubbly liquid sizzled on my tongue. A bottle of sparkling sour wine had shattered. Candlesticks, goblets, plates, and forks were knocked off the table. In their place was a man splayed atop the platter of halibut. Father stood on the table and calmly sank so his knees were on either side of the victim. He looped a cord around the man’s neck and pulled it tight. The man bucked and struggled, his face turning red. The more time passed, the less human he seemed. His features disappeared into desperate folds, and his hands clawed aimlessly at the empty air. I clung to Inessa. She let me, wrapping her arms around me, and then, as the moments passed and the man remained alive, covering my eyes with her hand.
Finally, mercifully, silence fell. I pulled back. The man was limp on the table. Exertion exuded from Father. His chest heaved, and perspiration poured down the sides of his face. Methodically, he unwound the cord and tucked it into his pocket, then cupped the man’s face in his hands. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the man’s cheeks like tears. Father took a deep breath, as though inhaling the man, as though trying to remember every moment, as though saying goodbye.
“May you swim in salt,” he whispered.
I jolted back into myself, but the memory had already done its damage. It hung from me like clothes sopping wet with icy sea water, the fabric gritty with sand. My hands grasped the arms of the chair. I glanced around, hoping no one noticed.
