Page 61 of Court of Talons

The other women’s gasps were audible, and my brows climb. None of the Divhs remain corporeal in this world long enough to eat…otherwise, they’d ravage the countryside. So what sort of beast could Rihad be keeping, and where was “below”?

“You be safe—it couldeatyou—why you, what did you do wrong?” The servants’ words tumble over on themselves, and the older woman holds up her hands.

“It’s all right, it’s all right. The guards have been called away to handle the incoming warriors, is all. The Second House is sending others. After today, we should expect more from the Third as well.”

I freeze.After today?Why? Because of the exhibition battle at the coliseum? The marauder attack? The other women titter knowingly but don’t speak anything aloud. I clench my hands and strive for patience. There’s still too much I don’t know!

“But who’ll care for the councilors, then?” asks a quiet voice, a woman off to the left of the group. She can’t be much older than I am, and her hair’s pulled back, revealing a harsh scar beneath her eye. I wince, my own scars at my father’s handbeginning to throb as my cheeks flush. Who’s harmed this girl so boldly?

The older woman waves a dismissive hand. “They barely eat as it is, and I’m glad to be shut of that job for a while. They ask without asking about all that goes on in the lord’s private chambers, but I tell them nothing. What goes on there isn’t fit for any eyes that aren’t wise or ears that aren’t cagey.”

“Well, your eyes have seen it all,” another servant jokes. “And Lightknowswhat your ears have heard.”

“My eyes and ears know how to detach from my mouth. It’s why I’m still alive, with my tongue still working.” The older woman stares around at the others. “You ever find yourself in Lord Rihad’s chambers, remember that. He’s asked the whole of the council to attend him after the feast tonight, what with that warrior of the Ninth House dead on the ivory road.”

I go rigid. The Ninth House?

“Oh no,” sighs another. “Not another attack, with the tournament so close. No wonder the councilors have been in a huddle.”

I press my lips tight together. There’s too much going on in the hidden rooms of the First House that I don’t understand, too much I need to know. But I can’t swagger into hidden spaces looking for secrets as bold warrior Merritt. He draws the eye wherever he goes. For this work, I need to be invisible.

A loud splash at the well draws all their attention. Almost before I know what I’m doing, my hand darts out as they all turn away. I grab one of their overwraps from the pile and ball it up as best as I can against Nazar’s robe. I step quickly backward on kitten feet until I reach the arched barracks entry. Then I turn and flee to our chambers.

Caleb and Nazar aren’t there, and I move quickly to our packs, rifling through them to find what I need. A long tunic of dull gray replaces my dark green warrior’s garb, and I switch outmy heavy breeches for thinner ones I’d worn as I traveled to the tournament. Then I pull out my wig of Lady Talia hair and set it aside. Sure enough, beneath it in the burlap sack, lies a second wig of simply braided hair, this one far more suitable to a young girl—or a servant.

I pull it on, then drag the servant’s hooded cloak over my head, arranging the fall of thin gold chains that hang from its crown, smoothing my hair along my neck to hide my scar as best as I can.

I rub my hands down my face. Had the servants worn kohl around their eyes and salve on their lips? I hadn’t noticed, and I don’t have a glass to apply either with any sort of skill. At least my face isn’t too beat up from the day. I slap my palms to my cheeks to give them color and move back outside as silently as possible. Striding quickly, I cross the courtyard and enter the First House. The other serving women would recognize me as an outsider, but I hope in the great celebration that’s still carrying on, I might have better luck blending in. Rihad must employ temporary servants from the village, surely. Especially with additional warriors coming in.

Warriors. Like the newly deceased warrior from the Ninth House.

I screw my face up in concentration as I enter the great hall. Unlike the night before, there are no bards holding the attention of the revelers, but several bands of musicians are playing a discordant clash of music in every corner. I see Lord Protector Rihad immediately, and as always, he’s attended by a dozen servants, all of them female, all of them dressed like I am. If he doesn’t see me directly, I can make it work, I think. I need to get closer, but I could?—

“Wine!” A woman jostles into me and would have sent me sprawling had I not had all those years of training in the shadows, hiding from my father’s attention. As it is, I hopsideways, banging my hip against the nearest table. I turn and see graceful long fingers tipping a cup precariously toward me. I hastily pull it from the woman’s hand.

As yesterday, flagons of wine line every table. I grab the nearest one—it’s empty. So’s the second and third. By the time I find a flagon and turn around again, the woman is no longer holding her hand out for her cup. Instead, she’s pulling down the face of the nearest warrior to kiss him full on the lips.

I stand there, staring dumbly, my eyes impossibly round as I watch Fortiss return the kiss.

The woman is beautiful. Not Elise, but every bit as stunning, she’s petite, fair, and dressed in richly embroidered silk. Her golden hair is styled in ornate coils that pour down her back like a frothy avalanche. When she pulls her mouth from Fortiss and laughs, I can see the detailed kohl-work around her eyes, and the soft pink of her lips, still touched with salve despite the wine and kissing. She moves in for another embrace, and I duck my head, keeping my eyes trained on the floor, never mind that they are sparking with rough, angry tears. I hold the cup up and am startled a moment later to hear her laugh.

“Well, then. An even trade.”

Instead of merely plucking the cup from my fingers, however, she grabs my wrist as she frees the vessel, turning me smartly to the left. I go pliantly so as not to hurt her, only to realize that she’s thrust me into Fortiss’s arms—Fortiss, who stinks of wine and something sharper, his eyes unfocused and his manner loose.

“A trade I’ve clearly won,” he laughs, before his arm snakes around my back and he pulls me in for a kiss.

A kiss!

I’veneverbeen kissed before, not like this. Fortiss’s mouth is hot, his lips both soft and demanding at once. Something bright and fizzy explodes in my stomach, warming every inch of me,and for one blessed instant, I press back, touching and tasting of a fruit so forbidden that it can only mean my death. My hands reach up of their own accord, and dimly I’m aware that beneath Fortiss’s tunic, there is no telltale band wrapped round his bicep—as Caleb’s said, he’s yet to be awarded a Divh.

Then my brain catches up with my body, and I jerk hard away.

Fortiss looks equally thunderstruck. He blinks and tries to stare at me, but his eyes keep sliding away from my face, still half-hidden by my thick hood. I’m glad of it as I struggle in his arms belatedly, and he opens them to allow me to escape. The blonde girl giggles as I stumble back, then wraps herself expertly around Fortiss’s outstretched arm.

“Your service is fully appreciated. Thank you.” She dimples at me.

I bow deeply from the waist, still backing away. By some miracle, I don’t knock anyone over, and by the time I look up, Fortiss and his woman are gone.