Page 34 of A Kiss of Flame
Elodie had said to be patient, that it would all work out. But it didn’t feel that way. And now there were Ilanthians in the city, shadow kin on the loose and everyone was at risk.
The last thing they should be doing was holding a ball.
‘It’s traditional,’ Lynette sighed in resignation when Wren pointed that out, repeating what Anselm had said as if there was no way out of it. ‘What can we do? Not holding it would be a huge loss of face. Especially now. So you, my dear girl, must shine like the sun itself, and keep just as far away from them.’
Especially with the Ilanthian nobility descending on them. Pact or not, this felt like some kind of trap and Wren couldn’t work out what that might be.
‘Who is Lady Rayden?’ she asked.
Anselm answered. ‘Besides being Finn’s cousin, Hestia Rayden has been trained by the Sisterhood of the Nox since childhood. She studied more widely too, well beyond Ilanthus, one of the few women of power to do so. She treated with Roland to draw up the Pact when she was not much older than you. She’s devious, cunning and one of the king’s most trusted advisors. And powerful.’
‘That’s… not good,’ Wren murmured, thinking of Elodie.
‘No. Not good at all.’ He glanced at the list and winced. ‘And General Gaius will be accompanying her. He and Hestia will be the brains of the group. The others… perhaps Hestia brought them here to do the real work of diplomacy, trying to improve the conditions of the Pact and make overtures of peace, but with Gaius involved I doubt it. Finn trusts Hestia. He knew her when he was a child and counts her his saviour along with Roland. But… he may be mistaken in his trust. He may be in terrible danger there.’
‘How many of these names do you actually know?’ Lynette asked. She had picked up the letter and was reading it closely.
‘All but five. They’re all listed as attendants. But they could be spies, assassins… anything. They’ll be especially watched.’
‘And they’re all staying in the Ilanthian embassy? They won’t like that. It isn’t that big.’
‘That’s too bad,’ Anselm replied curtly. ‘They aren’t staying here.’
‘And what do you need from me?’ Wren asked.
‘Do what we tell you, and you keep yourself safe. No sneaking off.’ He fixed her with a particularly knowing glare. ‘Not even to find Finn. Not even if he begs you. Don’t react, even if they attempt to goad you. I presume they know of your abilities. Leander is hardly likely to have kept that a secret.’
Wren glanced at Lynette but she barely seemed to be listening now. But she had that skill, didn’t she, and she missed nothing. ‘My abilities…’ she echoed, burying a warning in her tone.
‘You know exactly what I mean.’ Anselm knew it was not the Aurum. Finn must have told him.
‘I can’t… I can’t always control it.’
‘Then you need to work out how and very fast. Or they will exploit any weakness they find.’ She’d thought Anselm gentle and kind. Now she saw an entirely different side to him.
They might expose her, that was what he meant, show all of Pelias that their new princess was more in tune with the Nox and its shadows than with the Aurum and its light.
‘Failing that,’ Anselm continued more like the man she knew, ‘stay as far away from them as you can. Understand? Olivier and I will be there. And the rest of your guards. Just be careful, princess. Whatever happens we need to avoid a diplomatic incident. Between this ball and the trial… if anything goes wrong it could start the war all over again.’
She nodded. What else could she do? There was no getting out of this, apparently. But she wasn’t alone. At least there was that.
But she had a horrible feeling that with the Ilanthians involved, avoiding a diplomatic incident was not going to be easy.
CHAPTER 17
WREN
Olivier could dance. That was a surprise.
He was precise and careful, and perfectly mannerly in how he held her, but all the same, he whirled Wren around the dance floor with an ease which made her head spin and an unexpected laugh bubble up in her throat. She almost forgot where she was.
Wren had always loved to dance, although her only partner, apart from the dreamlike spirits in the forest, had been Elodie. But all the same it was a joy, something they had shared, whirling around the upper room in their tower, especially when Wren was little. She hadn’t realised Elodie was teaching her courtly dances, something which was most useful now. Perhaps Elodie hadn’t realised either. Those dances were all the queen knew. Even when she was pretending not to be a queen anymore.
For a moment, in the music and the opulence of the ballroom, Olivier helped Wren feel graceful and elegant, and almost let her forget the host of eyes upon her. She had walked into the ballroom and immediately felt judged, and found wanting.
Anselm danced with her too, as did Roland, although that was a slow and sedate affair, more like a procession than a dance. A formality, as it turned out, because her father didn’t return to her again.
She kept looking for Finn but there was no sign of him yet. Even if he had arrived, the instruction that she should avoid him only made her innate sense of defiance grow. She worried about him constantly. Anselm assured her that he was fine, that he was reporting in and there was nothing to concern her. That didn’t help. He said it a little too earnestly for her to believe him. Anselm was a consummate politician, she knew that. He would say whatever was necessary. She wanted to see Finn and the more she thought about it the more determined she became.