restrooms and hurry down it, making a left turn instead of a right at the end, and hide behind a suit of armor.
A moment later, a gentle voice says, “Wraye?”
There’s a rustle of silk, and then someone presses a tissue into my hand. I see through blurry eyes that it’s Aubrey.
“You were just dancing with Daddy, weren’t you? Was he horrible to you? What did he say?”
I dab my face with the tissue and shake my head. “It’s not the Archduke. It’s this place. The Court. The real world isn’t like this. I’m so tired of pretending.”
She wraps her arms around me and draws me into a hug, and I let the misery wash over me. Aubrey’s tall like her father, and I rest my head on her shoulder.
“Court can be so cruel,” Aubrey says. “I just heard that Briar Balzac has been barred. I didn’t know her very well, but I liked her. So much friendlier than her cousins, Sachelle and Tamsen.”
Hasn’t Mama mentioned the Balzacs? I lift my head from Aubrey’s shoulder, frowning. “Is she the girl who’s illegitimate?”
“Yes, poor thing. She found out in the papers that her father isn’t her father, so she’s not one of us,” Aubrey says, with a disparaging wrinkle of her nose. “You know, noble birth. So unfair. She’s practically exiled from her family now, as well.”
How awful for Briar. This is probably the fault of the gossips at Court. “All Mama wants to talk about at home is who said what at Court. It makes me sick. What if it’s us people are gossiping about one day?”
“They won’t do anything of the sort, and you’ve done nothing that anyone could gossip about.”
I hiccup with a stifled half-laugh, half-sob.
“Come on, let’s go get you a glass of water.”
Aubrey takes me back into the ballroom to where an attendant in palace livery and white gloves is pouring champagne.
On the other side of the ballroom, the Archduke is standing at rigid attention, with his hands clasped behind his back. I can’t keep up with everything that’s been happening lately, and I’ve lived through a revolution.
“Here,” Aubrey says with a smile, her hazel eyes shining with friendliness as she passes me a glass of ice water.
I take a sip of the water, wishing that every time I looked at Aubrey, I didn’t think of him.
Chapter Eleven
Devrim
I watch from the other side of the ballroom as Aubrey leads Wraye to the refreshment table. There’s a blotchiness to her cheeks that wasn’t there a few moments ago, and her eyes are red-rimmed.
I would have been kind to her. I would never have made her feel cheap or exposed, or asked her to meet me, unless I was certain it was what she wanted, too.
Wraye takes a sip of water and smiles at my daughter. I clench my jaw and turn away, making my way around the edge of the room. Before prison, my wants were simple. To serve my King and Queen and wear this uniform. Take a wife. I had my whole life before me.
Now, everything I want feels impossible.
“Devrim. It’s good to see you dancing.”
I turn at the sound of my name. The King. I’ve walked right past him, without bowing. “Your Majesty.”
King Anson is standing with another man, whom I’ve encountered once or twice. Remus, the King’s childhood friend. I remember him as a serious boy of eight, and wonder what he was doing all these years.
The King smiles, relaxed in his surroundings, wearing a suit like the other courtiers instead of the heavy brocade jacket his father would dress in for these occasions. “Who was the young lady you were dancing with?”
“Lady Wraye Rugova, sir. A friend of my daughter’s.”
King Anson glances at Remus with twinkling eyes. “Please introduce Remus to her at the next opportunity. He’s been watching her for the last ten minutes.”
Remus lips press together. “Anson, I was watching all the dancers.”
My gaze flicks over the man. Heavy-lidded gray eyes. The physique of one of my best soldiers and the smooth complexion of a man in his early thirties. Remus can make his own damn introductions.
Then I remember who I’m talking to. “If it is your wish, sir.”
King Anson clears his throat, his gaze cutting away from me. “It was just a suggestion, Devrim.”
Remus is gazing at me like he doesn’t need or want my introductions. Or like he doesn’t trust me. I was the one who used to stand by the King’s side, watching the faces of everyone who