she was a secret rebel and a dirty traitor.
But for good or for ill, Cadis was always the one they talked about.
Rhea glanced at Endrit and caught him staring at Cadis.
Is he, too, obsessed with her?
Rhea almost missed her cue. She stepped forth and spoke, “I, Rhea, daughter of Declan the Giver, king of Meridan, champion of the War of Epiphany Rising, hero of the Battle of Crimson Fog, author of the Treaty of Sister Queens, and creator of the peace for all Pelgard, do so pledge.”
A raucous cheer erupted from the nobility and the king’s guard, filling the vaulted ballroom. Rhea instinctively laughed—an expulsion of nerves, really.
And as her father approached with the signet ring of House Meridan, she could swear he smiled.
Rhea almost skipped as she returned from the dais, past her sisters, and toward a grinning Endrit. Of course, she didn’t.
Her armory of jewels would jangle. And, of course, she didn’t leap into his arms, though she wanted to. Too many heads would turn.
As if he had read her mind or body language as she bounded toward him and then pulled up short, Endrit scooped Rhea into his arms and gave her a long hug.
Did he hug anyone else as he hugged me?
Rhea felt her neck and cheeks flush, as doyennes all around the grand ballroom cast their aspersions.
Does it matter?
He smelled like jasmine and bituin oil. His shirt was the coarsest leather in the room, but warmed by his skin and softened by age. Rhea breathed as if for the first time all day, first even in a fortnight.
The Revels were finally over.
The one previous was finally behind her—or at least, the long year of shame and disappointment could begin to scab.
“Well done, Princess,” whispered Endrit.
Only a few hours ago, they had regaled everyone with the exhibition of the grimwaltz. No false steps and no misses.
They were a spectacle.
Their bodies moved in perfect motion together.
Rhea wondered if Endrit felt the connection as strongly as she did.
He must have.
It was as if they were two marionettes connected by the same strings.
Rhea wished for a god to turn them both into stone at that very moment. Instead Endrit put her down with a grunt. He rubbed his neck and said, “That necklace wasn’t made for hugging.” He nodded at the onyx sunrays, each a sharpened stake.
My very own chastity belt, thought Rhea. She turned and stood beside Endrit as her father gathered attention for the closing of the Revels.
“Good ladies, good men of Meridan, let us celebrate the end of our revelry.”
He was a perfect king from the storybooks, a man of the prime age—not a boy king and not a graybeard. He had a soldier’s bearing and a scholar’s presence. Hair the color of tar, with feathery white streaks.
“And welcome also to the emissaries of Findain—”
Rhea looked around and for the first time noticed a group of sun-browned men and women, all blond and unfashionably dressed, standing behind Cadis.
A diplomatic envoy?
They seemed uncomfortable to hold the attention of the room. Behind them lurked Magister Hiram, no doubt already begun in his maneuvering and negotiations on behalf of her father.
Endrit leaned over and whispered, “Here to take her home?”
Rhea snapped around to face him. Their noses nearly collided. She said, “What?” And then, with her volume under control, she added, “They can’t take her. My father wouldn’t let them.”
Her father continued his speech about each of the girls’ achievements over the course of the year. He began with Cadis, notably, either to please the envoy or because she had the longest list.
Endrit and Rhea stared ahead but conversed from the sides of their mouths like conspirators, or children at the temple.
“They’ll petition for it, certainly,” said Endrit.
“How would you know?”
“We low-living creatures all share a gutter—didn’t you know?” He bumped her. His arm touched hers and made gooseflesh rise.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I’m only guessing,” said Endrit. “Word of a rebellion has spread. Everyone outside the keep is jumpy, and Findish caravans have diverted away from the midlands for fear of reprisals and mobs.”
“All the more reason for Cadis to stay,” whispered Rhea, “where the guards can protect her.”
“The Meridan guards are the worry,” said Endrit.
“Maybe they’re here for another reason,” said Rhea. Endrit laughed under his breath. Rhea hoped he would bump her again, but it didn’t come. She ventured a look. He caught her eye and winked.
“Maybe they’re here to choose her suitor,” said Endrit.
“Can’t be,” said Rhea. “In Findain, they marry for love.”
“Then maybe they’re here