Page 88 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
“Touché, Your Royal Assness,” she mumbled, but he pretended he didn’t hear.
As soon as they took their places in line, Kasta announced, “And now I’d like to introduce you to the new premier nobles of the Danu court.” The ballroom doors opened, and the twenty new witnesses flooded in like concertgoers rushing for seats. They circled in the center of the room, fae of all sorts, elven, ogre, spriggan, and Tuatha de, becoming an elegant whirlwind of tailcoats, bright buttons, swishing satin, colorful capes, and feathered hats. The laughter and chatter of the dazzling storm of nobles filled the air, until all of them settled at the other end of the room, except for one—a flamboyant Tuatha de dressed in a richly embroidered crimson coat. His long black hair fell in waves around his face.
He stepped up to Bristol and lifted her hand. “Lord Dowly,” he said, nodding. “Dance, my lady?” She reminded herself that this was a dry run, a parley of knights disguised as nobles, but it all felt very real. Her heart skipped, uneasy at the charade, but she stepped forward, and he led her to the middle of the room.
A fiddle played somewhere in the crowd, and the dance began, a strange unknown one, halfway between a minuet and a jitterbug. Not knowing the steps, Bristol mostly stood still as he danced around her, but he occasionally grabbed her hand and gave her a spin. On one of those turns, she saw Tyghan, his eyes cold steel, glued on her. Lord Dowly laughed and chatted with her, so everyone could hear—just like a tipsy noble. “It’s the latest dance in Eideris,” he exclaimed, “at least according to my tailor. Dashing, isn’t it?” And then he swung her into his arms, holding her snug for a long beat like he was trying to create a lasting picture, a story that would leave a mark. The music stopped, every eye fixed on them—especially Tyghan’s—and then the enthusiastic noble released her.
He stepped back and bowed deeply. “Officer Reve Perry at your service, madame.” Several of those present gasped, finally recognizing him. His demeanor changed from an excited noble to serious officer. He turned to the audience and bowed again. “And at the service of the Danu Nation.” Kasta read off his service record and special skills, including his exceptional kinship with air and sounds.
As soon as Bristol returned to Tyghan’s side, another knight broke free from the group, her flamboyant leafy gown trailing behind her as she descended on Avery and pulled her to the middle of the room. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Lady Beechwood of Crown House,” she said, patting Avery’s hand as they circled the room. “Surely you’ve heard of the Beechwoods?” She fluffed her spriggan crown of leaves and moss and sighed dramatically. “Isn’t it a chore to keep our ferns looking their best this time of year? But I do have a few secrets. I’d be happy to share with you. Do you have a moment?” She chattered mindlessly at the speechless Avery, the crowd tittering, until she stopped and bowed, introducing herself as third-year knight Sage Jarvis. “At your service, madame, and to all the damn court.” There were more laughs, until Kasta read her extensive skills—and kills.
And so it went, witness by witness, knight by knight, as they made themselves known to everyone in the Winterwood ballroom, their names, personalities, and skills indelibly stamped in everyone’s memories like they had always known them.Walk-ons in a play, Bristol thought. Each was an archetype—the show-off, the chatterbox, the empath, the wide-eyed ingenue, the know-it-all, the optimist, and more. A brilliantly selected team. They understood their mission: to flatter, infatuate, beguile Kormick, catch him off guard just long enough to give the Elphame troops the edge they needed to move in.
The room broke into applause, including Tyghan. “I’m convinced,” he said. “Well done.”
“We’ll be covering all the logistics shortly,” Kasta said, “but for now, spend some time getting to know your fellow knights as they will appear at the parley—and memorize their noble names and histories. Kormick will test you.”
Memorization was Bristol’s strong suit—her parents used to make her and her sisters memorize the plays of Shakespeare as part of their studies—so she already knew all the names by heart, but when the two lines broke formation and she started to walk over to the chatterbox and the optimist, Tyghan grabbed her arm. “We need to talk. Privately,” he said and pulled her toward the door.
“You’re making a scene,” she whispered, but as soon as they were out the door, he stopped short, noting the guards milling in the hallway. And then he was pulling her tight against his chest and they were nightjumping, but this time his lips were not on hers and she felt none of his warmth.
CHAPTER 66
The jump was short, and he released her as soon as her feet touched the floor. They were in a dark parlor she could barely see, but with a sweep of his hand, Tyghan roused a small flame in a stone hearth and it crackled to life, illuminating the aged log walls around them. The interior was nothing like the rest of the palace. It looked more like a one-room cabin in the mountains.
“A little notice would have been nice before you grabbed me,” she said, rubbing her chilled arms. “Where are we?”
“The deepest heart of Winterwood. The first queen’s quarters. It’s rarely used anymore. I knew we could be alone.”
“Someone could be here. There was a fire burning.”
“The fire was started by the daughter of winter thousands of years ago. It never goes out.”
A fire that burns forever? Through every storm?The thought intrigued her. She looked around at the small rustic room. It appeared to be lovingly tended, even if rarely used. The roughly hewn timbers surrounding them glowed in the flickering firelight, and multiple furs graced a simple bed on the other side of the room. She felt the room’s safety and magic—at least until Tyghan spoke again and scattered her thoughts.
“We need to talk,” he repeated, and folded his arms across his chest. It sounded more like an order than an offer.
Like the small flame in the fireplace that burst to life, resentment flared in her again. “So you said. You didn’t want to talk last night. You ignored my questions and then walked out on me. And now I guess I’m just forced to listen to whatever you have to say.”
His arms dropped awkwardly back to his sides. His eyes were fully focused on her. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you first. I didn’t want to talk back there in front of others and—” He shook his head. “We don’t have to talk. I can take you back if that’s what you prefer.”
Bristol remembered her parents’ arguments. They were loud and passionate, usually ending with her mother storming out and going for a long walk. Bristol didn’t want to drag this out for another day, or even another hour. However it played out, she wanted it settled.
“Go on,” she said, determined to listen this time before she opened her mouth—because she still had plenty to say.
He motioned to two chairs in front of the fire. They walked stiffly to them and sat down, like they were facing a challenger in a game. A game that had no winners. Bristol waited—the same way Julia would. Tyghan leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, glancing at her, then away. He stared at his hands, clasping and unclasping them. She still waited.
“I couldn’t talk last night, and I want to explain now.” He looked up, his jaw tight, his eyes sharp glass, like he was trying to hold the entire world together. “I’m hurting, Bristol. I always try to pretend I’m not, that I’m fine. I have to be fine for everyone. But the other day, you told me I had to share my feelings.” He bit his lower lip. “That’s what I’m trying to do now, and I know I’m not doing it well, but I’m doing it the best way that I know how.” He raked his fingers through his hair, searching for all the ways to avoid speaking, any distraction, but there were no hazelnuts to pluck from a tree and throw, no grove to swallow him up. He had initiated this talk, and he had nowhere to run. Against her will, she ached for him, and the struggle she saw in his face. “I want you to understand,” he finally continued, “six months ago I almost lost my life—at the hands of someone I loved. I’m not sure I ever told you that, but it’s impossible to explain what that does to a person. I still don’t have the words. In that same exact moment, I lost my closest friend. As crazy as it sounds, I’ve mourned that loss for months, that lifelong friendship. Kierus was like a brother to me. And then, seeing him again once he was in custody—” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Hearing his voice. It gutted me all over again. It was like a day hadn’t passed. It dredged up all the betrayal, anger, and pain still inside me. And all the loss. I didn’t tell you about your father, because I’m still trying to figure this out myself. I just know it hurts. Maybe it always will.”
The ache in her reached deeper. She wasn’t sure if he was finished, but she remained silent, because he pursed his lips like he was still trying to get out more words. She waited, and they came.
“And then last night—” He gripped the arms of the chair. “I didn’t expect an apology from you for the blackmail, but maybe . . .” His eyes shot up, fixed on her. “Dammit, maybe I did expect one for not telling me about Kasta in the first place. It was like you didn’t grasp what it meant and how that day had changed me forever. Like you didn’t think that I even had a right to know. For weeks you kept it a secret. What she didmatteredto me. I lost my sense of trust that day and I’ve been trying to reclaim it ever since.”
Bristol swallowed, seeing his pain—and her silence—in a new light.
He shook his head, his jaw rigid. “And just a few minutes ago in the ballroom—” He rose, pulling her to her feet, and turned her to face the small mirror on the wall. “When you were dancing, I saw this.” He drew back her hair. She saw the bruising on the side of her neck, and the distinct dark impressions of three fingers. “Someone tried to kill you? Another thing you didn’t think to tell me? That it wouldn’t matter either? If not to me personally, then at least to all of Elphame?”
Bristol stared, shocked by the bruises too. Kasta’s deadly grip left evidence. Yes, it mattered. And yes, she could have died and ruined everything if she hadn’t been able to talk Kasta into letting her go. She would have told him, but her mind had been bursting with other things, things that mattered to her too. She whirled back to face him.
