Page 13 of A Court of Masks and Roses (Royal Scout #1)
KALI
“ Y ou are an idiot,” Leaf informs me as she hands me a foul-smelling tonic, shaking her head at the cuts, welts, and bruises covering most of my skin.
I’m back in Lady Lianna’s suite, which in my two-day absence has transformed from a lady’s chambers to a library crossed with an alchemy studio. Leaf even procured a giant slate somewhere and charted a hundred magical elements in a grid of neat boxes—from memory, I will wager.
“What was I supposed to do? Call the crown prince a liar?”
Leaf puts her hands on her hips and stares down her nose at me.
“You were supposed to whimper and gasp and play the kind of whipping boy who’d actually deter the prince from further recklessness.
Give this Trace ”—she says his name like it’s an uncouth word—“no reason to hurt you more than he had to, instead of goading him into a battle of wills.”
I wince as Leaf dabs something burning onto a cut. “Kal isn’t the kind to whimper and cower,” I say through clenched teeth.
“ You aren’t the kind to whimper and cower. Kal is whatever you need him to be.”
I blow a slow stream of air from pursed lips.
Leaf is right, of course. A new lad on his first day should have been trembling in his boots once Trace had him alone.
Howling and squirming would have drawn less notice than trained stoicism while leaving me with an intact hide and Wil with a distaste for endangering others. I just... didn’t want to.
Not before a man who’s trained hard enough to face down three opponents at once. “I do have some dignity,” I mutter.
“You also have dresses to wear and things to do besides impressing the king’s warriors with your stupidity.” Leaf’s voice softens. “Is it very hard for you, Kali? To work and train with people instead of beside or against them?”
I get up and head to the closet, looking for something very concealing that Lady Lianna might make an appearance in this evening. “No,” I call over my shoulder. “They are all still marks. Just ones I’ll be spending months with instead of hours.”
The silence from Leaf is laden with unspoken thoughts, but when I turn to lift a brow at her, my sister is back in her books. “What do you make of the Eye of the Goddess?” she asks.
I pull out a pair of gowns, their fabric oddly soft and colorful after Kal’s rough wear.
The pale-green one, topped with a woolen cloak, will do fine for a short walk this evening, but the other—a rich blue velvet with a flattering waist—needs to be altered to cover my back for the formal dinner Lady Lianna is attending tomorrow. “It makes lots of light.”
“Magic can’t make or destroy light, or anything else. It manipulates what already exists,” Leaf responds on reflex. She runs a hand over her face. “Sorry. I can’t help myself. What I don’t understand is how such a monumental glow stays steady. Living stones don’t tune themselves.”
I shrug. “What I don’t understand is why everyone is all right with Bishop Bahir setting the biggest living crystal in the world atop his temple, and simultaneously claiming magic is the Dark God’s work.
Hells, to hear the Holy Guard talk among themselves—and that’s from both Kal’s and Lianna’s vantage points—Bahir is the oracle of all truth, no matter what nonsense he utters. ”
Leaf lifts her book to pull out a folded sheet of parchment, which she extends toward me. “You can ask him all about it yourself tomorrow night. This is the guest list for the dinner, and His Holy Grace is at the top of your esteemed company.”
I take a deep breath and bury my face in my hands.
My body is dead heavy and my head aches, pulsing with merciless jolts.
It’s only been two days and I’m already barely able to stay awake.
An evening of strolling around in Lianna’s disguise—followed by a night of cataloging my observations, only to be back in Kal’s bed before dawn’s wakeup bell—looms over me like an insurmountable boulder. And this is my easy day.
Leaf frowns at me. “Do you need something?”
I shake my head. Leaf’s something would wake me like a jackrabbit but I’d be paying for the borrowed energy for days. “I’ll manage.” By way of proof, I force myself to my feet and start hiding Kal behind a dress, jewels, and enough makeup that my head is heavier for wearing it.
The walk about the palace, at least, is uneventful.
A guard I’ve not met before escorts Lady Lianna politely around the grounds, pointing out flowers and similar nonsense that—thanks to Leaf—Lianna is supposed to find fascinating.
I only jump away from the wasps once, spending the rest of the walk reading courtiers’ lips and counting the number of holy guardsmen gracing the palace grounds.
Once enough servants and courtiers note my walking about to solidify the impression that Lady Lianna is in residence, I claim a headache and return to my rooms.
The following day at the keep proves no easier than I expected.
Trace is busy somewhere but Luca decides I need to work on parries and spends two hours launching his practice blade at my skull, knees, and elbows.
Again. And again. And again, until my muscles tremble and sweat drips down my hair and arms, stinging my eyes and making the blade in my hand slippery.
Just when I’m about to drop my guard altogether and my gaze starts wandering to what other guards and roses might be doing, Trace strolls up wearing a pair of loose black trousers and a billowing shirt.
His hair, usually hanging loose to his shoulders, is captured in a bun at the back of his head.
“There you are,” Trace says, plucking the practice blade from my hand. “We’re going for a run before strength training. If you are going to be of use, you’ll need more muscle on you.”
Oh, bloody hells. Bracing my hands against my thighs, I force salty air into my lungs. Three deep, calming breaths, and then I push off to catch up with Trace, who is already loping across the courtyard.
By the time I’m back in Lianna’s suites getting ready for my debut family dinner, I’m ready to scarf down rats raw.
“How is this?” I ask Leaf, adjusting my throwing knives beneath my dress sleeves.
The velvet is a rich, confident blue, made only slightly less fashionable by the shawl covering what should have been a bare back.
My breasts, for once unbound and supported by a gentle corset, fill out the embroidered bodice better than I expected.
The lines of the dress are made to accentuate my subtle curves, just as my makeup highlights my lashes, making my eyes and lips seem large. Pretty.
I run my hands over the wonderfully soft fabric one last time before pulling away to twirl before Leaf for inspection.
Lady Lianna is beautiful and feminine and soft—I can’t afford to be.
Just as I can’t forget that Lady Lianna exists for King Firehorn’s pleasure, not my own.
“Can you see anything of Kal?” I ask Leaf.
She adjusts the shawl covering my back and adds a few quick stitches to hold the cloth in place.
That done, Leaf holds a tuned light crystal beside my face to scrutinize the wig and makeup I spent the last hour applying.
“Not a trace,” she says finally. “Your eyes even look a different color, though I know it’s just the play of a brush. ”
I have time for a single relieved smile before someone knocks on the door. Leaf and I exchange final glances.
“Your escort is here,” she says unnecessarily.
I draw a calming breath and open the door—and nearly slam it shut again when I see Trace standing in the corridor.
Firehorn could have warned me that the same man I’ve been trading blows with the past two days will be the one gallantly escorting Lady Lianna all over the palace grounds.
Bloody Firehorn and his bloody stupid games.
“Are you all right, my lady?” Trace’s eyes narrow in concern as he offers me his arm. He looks as easy in his dress uniform as he did in his training garb this morning. “I did not intend to startle you.”
I give him a demure smile and carefully suppress my instinctive hesitation, then lay my fingers atop his forearm.
As before, the coiled muscles are alive with leashed violence, though now I’m quite familiar with what those muscles can do.
A wave of heat rushes through my blood. He doesn’t know .
He can’t tell. You are nothing to him but a royal brat to be escorted about.
“Not at all. I’m simply nervous about meeting everyone. ”
Lady Lianna sounds like a simpering idiot. Brilliant.
Trace’s eyes soften. “It’s only dinner, my lady. Everyone chews and swallows the same way, no matter what station they hold.”
I give him a tightlipped smile and allow him to guide me down the gilded corridors to the second part of my mission.
The dining room is heavy with velvet curtains, deep wood, and cushioned chairs.
A long table, already full, extends the length of the room, candle-filled chandeliers reflecting in its polished surface.
At the far end of the room, a trio of violinists sets an intimate ambiance.
When Trace releases me to take up his place among other guards standing against the wall, I immediately miss the solid platform of his arm.
My heart speeds, longing for the shadows. But there is no place to hide.
Standing alone before a table of finely dressed strangers, I feel naked.
A girl in Everett colors, who can only be Princess Raza, looks up at me.
She is breathtakingly beautiful, with a thick, shining blond braid and emerald eyes.
Her earrings, chosen to offset her irises’ deep green hues, reflect the candlelight in imitation of living crystals—a subtle insult to Dansil. A diplomat, Raza is not.