Page 59 of A Taste of Silver
The thought sent ice through my veins. "He wouldn't?—"
"He would, if he thought it would stabilize the realm." Melora stepped back. "Your mother refused three different proposals from noble houses, all designed to dilute and control her bloodline. They've only gotten more creative since then."
I thought of Prince Aldric's calculating gaze, the way he'd studied my marks like they were a puzzle to be solved. Would he really try to chain me through marriage? Make me a crown jewel in his collection of controlled powers?
Through the mirror, I saw Silvyr's form tense, his barely visible hands clenching into fists. The thought of me bound to another, even politically, clearly affected him. The ghost of our connection thrummed with his distress.
"I won't let them," I said, not sure if I was reassuring Melora or Silvyr or myself.
"You may not have a choice." Melora straightened my shoulders, a final maternal gesture. "The game the court plays has rules older than the prohibition. Once you enter that ballroom, you're a piece on their board."
"Then I'll change the game."
"Spoken like your mother's daughter." Melora's smile was proud and terrified in equal measure. "She said the same thing, right before she decided to seal the Crimson One. We both know how that ended."
The reminder sobered me. My mother had been powerful, clever, beloved by many. She'd still died to protect a realm that feared her kind.
Another knock, more insistent. "My lady, the Prince insists?—"
"I'm coming." I took one last look around the room that had been my prison and sanctuary. The cracked mirror, the bed where I'd dreamed of gardens made of glass, the window where I'd watched snow fall while my memories returned piece by piece.
"Aurea." Melora caught my arm as I reached the door. "Whatever happens tonight, whatever they try to make you do… remember that you're not alone. You have allies you don't even know about yet."
"Cryptic to the end."
"It's kept me alive this long." She squeezed my arm gently. "Also remember—at a masquerade, everyone wears more than one face. The mask they show and the truth beneath. Don't trust either completely."
I nodded, adjusting the butterfly mask one final time. The silver filigree caught the light, sending small rainbows across the walls. Beautiful and delicate, but I could feel the magic worked into its frame. Observation spells, probably. Maybe compulsions.
The court wanted to watch me dance.
Time to show them what a Mirror Queen's daughter could do with an audience.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Chapter 21
Aurea
The ballroom doors opened onto a sea of reflective surfaces. Not mirrors, those remained legally banned, no matter how many exceptions there seemed to be, but every other surface had been polished to mirror brightness. The marble floor gleamed like black water, the silver candelabras caught and threw light in dizzying patterns, and every guest wore a mask adorned with chips of crystal or metal that fractured my reflection into a thousand pieces.
Prince Aldric stood at the center of it all, his mask a simple thing of black silk that made his green eyes seem to glow. He raised a crystal goblet as I entered, the liquid within catching light like captured stars.
"Lady Solis," his voice carried across the sudden hush. "How good of you to join us."
The crowd parted as I descended the stairs, each step multiplying my image in the polished floor. My silver marks tingled beneath the dress, responding to something in the air. Not quite magic, but intention given form.
"Your Highness." I dropped into a curtsey that sent violet silk pooling around me. "You summoned, I came."
"Direct as always." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I thought a celebration was in order. After all, it's not every day we witness the awakening of ancient bloodlines."
The musicians struck up a waltz, and couples began to move across the floor in practiced patterns. But there was something wrong with the dance. The formations they created, the way they turned and stepped?—
A binding circle. They were tracing a binding circle with their bodies.
"Dance with me." Not a request. Prince Aldric extended his hand, and refusing would have been admission of recognition, of fear.
I placed my fingers in his, letting him lead me into the pattern. Up close, I could see the exhaustion carved into the lines around his eyes, smell the bitter herbs on his breath. Stimulants to keep him awake, suppressants to keep him controlled.
