Page 86 of Dark Water Daughter

I peered at him, baffled. “But you’re Aeadine.”

He shrugged. “My accent is.”

Before I could ask more, the room hushed. Phira moved to the center of the floor, and, on the other side of the huge chamber, another woman appeared under the escort of a dozen female soldiers.

“The Queen’s Guard,” Demery murmured, eyeing the women in admiration.

Their coats were long and pale blue, fitted to the waist and flaring over their hips in a way that made no attempt to mask their gender. They wore loose trousers and high boots, and each was armed with a sword, a parrying dagger and a long Usti rifle. They all wore their hair in double braids tucked tightly into their caps. The style might have looked girlish, if each guard hadn’t also looked prepared to eviscerate anyone who neared their queen.

Queen Inara was no less intimidating, despite her lack of armament. She wore a deceptively simple emerald gown with a cluster of real black roses instead of a stomacher. Her skin was the mild brown of many far northerners, and her eyes were a pale, nondescript blue. Her black hair, rather than being piled high, was twisted and worked into an elaborate knot at the back of her head.

The floor cleared, her guard spread out, and Queen Inara joined Phira in the center of the room. She began to speak in Usti. I couldn’t understand, but her spare smile and body language communicated gravitas and greeting.

“Why is the queen hosting Phira’s party?” I whispered to Demery.

“Phira,” Demery leaned down to reply, his eyes still on the monarch, “is the queen’s sister.”

“Pardon me?Oh…”Understanding sunk in. “That’s why Mallan’s in her household. He’s her nephew, if the rumors are true.”

Grant, on my other side, caught Mallan’s name and leaned in. “What’s that?”

“And you.” I ignored Grant, a sudden frown stealing across my face. “Captain, the queen is your aunt.”

“Not by blood.” Demery waved the words away with false modesty. “All I did was return to Phira something that she’d lost, when I was young. She started feeding me, we got attached, and here I am.”

“Like a stray cat,” Grant observed.

Demery’s smile was quick and genuine. “Like a stray cat,” he affirmed.

Inara’s speech ended in a chorus of trumpets, which flowed into the first waltz. Phira and the queen, arm in arm, drifted away with the Guard at their flanks.

Demery cleared his throat and surveyed the room. “Now, I’m off to waylay some very bored, very rich jarls. I suggest the two of you make polite conversation and stay out of trouble. But join me in the study at eleven bells.”

With that the captain left us. Grant and I moved off to the side, making way for more guests as they entered the dance floor. A servant brought us flutes of sweet wines, thick with bubbles and fresh berries.

“Who should we talk to first?” I sipped at my wine, eyeing the crowd. I noticed a woman with a particularly large headdress, made to look like a morgory’s plume. “That lady looks wealthy. And unorthodox.”

“Talk to whoever you please. Aeadine will be very common in a crowd like this,” Grant replied. His flute was already empty, save the berries, and he spun it dangerously between two fingers. “I’m off to find Mallan and some proper entertainment.”

“You’re abandoning me to gamble?” In truth, this wasgood—Ididn’t want him around when I foundRosser—butI still felt slighted.

“Well, do you want to come?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Then yes, I’m abandoning you.” Grant held out his glass until I took it. “Do be careful when the dancing starts, the Usti are known for being rather free with their hands, and you look beautiful tonight.”

The last caught me offguard—notbecause it wasn’t true, I knew itwas—butbecause of his tone when he said it, overly off-hand and hurried. But his grin was as smooth as ever as he vanished into the crowd.

“Scoundrel,” I muttered under my breath. I straightened my shoulders, passed Grant’s glass to a servant, and began to wander through the crowd looking for Rosser.

Eyes lingered on me. Nods, smiles and greetings came my way, but no circles of conversation opened, and the pirate hunter did not appear. My confidence began to degrade. By the time I reached the dais where the musicians played, I felt both absurd and unwelcome.

“You’re looking very fine tonight.”

I turned to find Rosser standing next to the carved pillars that marked the way into the salons, where more light and chatter spilled across a smooth marble hallway. To my shock, Rosser wore a full naval uniform over his broad shoulders, complete with bicorn hat, rows of pips at his collar and a saber at the hip. His cheeks were shaved too, smooth and clean over a well-formed jaw. It made him look different, leaner, younger. But it was him.

Musicians began to play a slow, swelling waltz.

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