call me Serefin, the Your Highness thing gets very old.”
She raised an eyebrow. This was all a game. “Of course.”
“Trade places with me,” the one-eyed girl demanded of Serefin.
“You can’t flirt with every girl here, Ostyia,” Serefin said.
“I can and I will,” she replied primly.
He rolled his eyes and—casting another anxious look toward where his father sat—stood up and traded places with the girl.
Ostyia had a glittering eye patch covering her right eye in place of a mask. Her smile was electric, and she shined it Nadya’s way.
“Your fight was the most interesting thing I’ve seen in years,” she said, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. She wore it cropped at her chin, unlike any of the fashions Nadya had seen in Grazyk. “I mean,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ve seen ?aneta fight before.”
?aneta waved her hand. “Flatter the new girl, I don’t mind.”
“Your Highness.” The boy who sat beside ?aneta caught Serefin’s attention. “If it isn’t too much to ask, are the rumors coming from the front true? Are we finally beating back the Kalyazi?”
Nadya didn’t hear Serefin’s response as Ostyia had leaned closer.
“Your spell book doesn’t look like any I’ve seen bound here, who did it?” she asked.
Nadya’s mind went blank. She saw ?aneta turn her gaze from the prince to her. One of her hands dropped to the spell book at her hip, feeling the ridges in the design on the cover, the icons of the gods she had set in the front.
“I have a friend who binds spell books, actually,” she said, smiling. “He does beautiful work.” She unclipped the book from her hip. “He’s a bit obsessed with the Vultures, though, and it shows.” Her smile turned sheepish. She desperately hoped a Tranavian noble wouldn’t recognize symbols for the Kalyazi gods.
She offered the book for Ostyia to look at, heart pounding in her throat. The girl took it, running her hand over the cover.
?aneta’s eyes narrowed. Nadya caught the expression before the slavhka smoothed her features.
The gamble relied on something Malachiasz had mentioned offhand to Nadya: that no blood mage would dare open the spell book of another. If Ostyia ventured past the cover of the book, Nadya would be in trouble.
Each second felt like ages, but finally Ostyia handed Nadya the book back. Nadya clipped it to her belts with shaking fingers.
The food she ate was delicious, but Nadya barely tasted any of it. She was too focused on not making any more mistakes.
Somehow, she managed it. Well, she thought she did. The prince had caught her watching the king. It was sloppy of her, but she was trying to convince herself that both the king and the prince needed to die. Seeing the king in person, it was easy for her to remember the horrors Tranavians had done to Kalyazi over the years. The prince, though … he made it easier to forget. She shouldn’t be so swayed.
Kostya. You’re doing this for Kostya, she reminded herself. Kostya would still be alive if not for Serefin.
Just before dinner ended, the king rose, approaching Serefin. The prince tensed—Nadya saw his hand go for his spell book before he clearly forced it away. He didn’t stand, though it didn’t seem like the king was expecting him to. The king leaned down to whisper something in Serefin’s ear. Their resemblance was clear, but Nadya noticed the king was careful to remain as physically far away from Serefin as possible. Serefin’s face drained of color, his eyes flickering closed as his father spoke before a mask settled over his features, pale eyes dim when they reopened.
“Of course,” he muttered, not turning to look at the king.
The king left in a flurry of servants, emblazoned guards, and masked Vultures.
Serefin offered to see Nadya back to her rooms. Whatever had passed between him and his father was forgotten or shoved aside.
“It’ll put a target on your back and Serefin was told not to be seen favoring anyone in particular,” ?aneta said to Nadya before turning to Serefin. “Don’t get her in trouble while you engage in petty squabbles with your father.”
Nadya froze. Serefin shot ?aneta an exasperated look. “There’s no reason to scare her,” he scolded.
“There’s every reason to scare her,” she replied sweetly. She stood and inclined her head to Serefin. “I bid you a good evening, Serefin. And Józefina?”
“Yes?” Nadya said a beat too quickly.
“Good luck, and I do mean that.”
“Thank you,” Nadya replied. “You as well.”
?aneta laughed, throwing her head back. “I don’t need