The Faceless Mage - Kenley Davidson Page 0,38

the remainder had seemed startlingly empty. A testimony, she supposed, to King Melger’s confidence in his own security. If he didn’t allow anyone suspicious past the guards on the outside, there was little reason to post guards on the inside.

Not that she intended to trust appearances entirely.

A trio of lightly flounced ladies entered the hall from a nearby doorway, conveniently pointing out which way Leisa needed to go to find the party. They seemed in various stages of intoxication, though they were expressing similar degrees of dissatisfaction.

“…how long we’re expected to pretend to believe this farce,” one of them said, followed by a giggle that she’d probably be embarrassed about if she remembered it in the morning.

“…so relieved it’s not Danric,” one of the others added, and sighed so deeply, Leisa was afraid she might collapse right there in the hallway.

“Maybe they’re planning some sort of accident for that poor sad thing from Farhall,” the third one chimed in, perhaps less drunk but rather more vicious than her companions. “They can’t exactly risk the second prince being the first to reproduce.”

The other two girls burst into giggles again.

“Well, I don’t care as long as Prince Danric is still available,” the sighing girl said, pressing a hand to her chest as though contemplating a faint purely for effect. “I know he’s bound for a marital alliance, but I hate the thought of all that man being wasted on a foreigner who won’t appreciate it.”

“I’m sure you can steal a moment or two behind a curtain if you want a taste that badly,” one of the others replied, while her companions tried very hard to gasp and sound shocked.

Leisa gagged a little, very quietly. Handsome Danric might be, and strong, and manly, and commanding, and all the other things girls seemed to want in a man. But he was also incredibly rude and probably heartless to boot.

And why did they assume Vaniell’s engagement was a farce? Because Evaraine was so obviously ill-suited to be his bride? Or because of their prejudices against Farhall itself?

She filed those questions away for later consideration as their laughter and their flounces faded away down the hall, then slipped out of the room and made for the hallway they’d emerged from.

Her sensitive hearing made sneaking around easier, as she could generally tell when someone was coming, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. On her way towards the ballroom, she was forced to duck through three separate doors to avoid being discovered, and in one case, only went unnoticed because the couple already occupying the room was far too enthralled with each other to care about any intrusion.

But she did eventually find the ballroom, and the balcony, which was reached by a narrow set of stairs hidden behind a secret door. She would probably have gone on looking forever except for the nervous-looking flute player who dashed out on his way to the privy with his instrument still hanging around his neck.

When she followed him back through the door, Leisa discovered that the balcony was much smaller than she’d imagined, and that there were several sections. Fortunately, she’d chosen an area at one end of the room, where the exhausted musicians were entirely focused on their work. The sections along the sides were, in fact, guarded, with three archers ranged along each, watching the floor from shadows that made them difficult to see.

With a little effort and a short climb, she found a niche at the far end from the stairs, between two columns, where she could observe without much danger of being likewise observed.

The scene below was not much different than the one she’d left a few hours before. Dancers whirled, gems glittered, and flounces flounced. Drinks had obviously been flowing freely, as everyone was a bit louder and more jolly than before.

Except for the royal family. Who were nowhere to be seen.

Leisa frowned, believing she had to be missing something. Her education in protocol indicated that when the king retired, the party was over, but apparently not in this case. Which meant that the evening had been almost entirely wasted on her part. It was the royal family she needed to watch and listen to. See what was happening when Evaraine wasn’t there to observe it.

But they were certainly not in the ballroom. As she turned away in frustration, she felt an odd sensation against her chest. Heat. She reached up to rub it away, and her fingers brushed against the gem beneath her