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Chapter thirty-nine

Nerys

A fter her walk with Adelyna, Nerys returned to her room to change for dinner.

Nerys picked at the laces on her itchy lace bodice, determined to wiggle out of the satin contraption—she wasn’t going to be stuck like a fly in a spider’s web a moment longer than she had to. She’d slice herself free first.

A dark shadow crossed between Nerys and the mirror. Great. What did Vine want now?

“Yes?” Nerys asked, calling her stone eyes.

Suddenly, Vine was standing in front of her, his flayed arms crossed and a smirk on his ghastly pale face. “So…you seem annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” Nerys tugged at her bodice laces, somehow pulling them even tighter. Dammit, who decided perpetual entrapment was a desirable fashion?

“Of course not…because you always manage to choke yourself with a dress.”

“What do you want, Vine?” she asked, still tugging.

Vine stepped away and sat on Nerys’s bed and reclined, letting Nerys get a full view of him in the mirror.

For his part, Vine seemed oblivious to how his flesh stuck to her bedding as it sopped up his blood.

Wonderful. She’d have to sleep in that, or beg the maids for yet another change.

“I’m curious what has you upset,” he said. “That’s all.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Excited?”

“Hardly.”

“Hmm…anxious?”

That was closer to the mark. Nerys paused. “Why do you care? Besides, weren’t you there?”

Vine picked at a thread on the coverlet, dripping even more blood onto the formerly gray embroidery. “I’m trying to stay subtle—remember? And in case you forgot, we have a common objective, one that won’t be met if you’re spending your time taking your feelings out on clothing.”

Nerys lowered her hand and turned to face him, just as a smile crossed Vine’s face. Demons were supposed to be solemn. Regal. How was it she managed to get the only one who thought he was witty? 194 “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

With all the attention of an excitable adolescent, Vine brightened while Nerys told him what Adelyna offered her. When she finished, Vine said, “Well, that’s easy—you become her High Maid.”

“I have other things to do.”

Vine looked around the empty room and then back at Nerys. “Like what?”

“Seducing the R?ll.”

“Yes…that’s really consuming a lot of your time.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.

” Nerys went back to tugging and struggling with laces and buttons.

She was going to remove at least one pest—if she couldn’t get rid of the demon, the bodice would have to do.

And to think, she had once dreamed of what she would look like in dresses just like this one.

“Think about it for a moment,” Vine continued. “You need to be seen by the R?ll. Who does he see? The Kor’yitz. Who is around the Kor’yitz at all hours? Her High Maids.”

“Who have responsibilities to her. And not much time for anything else.”

“During the day. Your nights are yours. Usually.”

There—the laces finally came loose. Nerys sighed when she finally undid the bodice, removing the offending fabric from her red puffy skin. “You think I should accept, then?”

“Yes. What else are you going to do? Go to a scabby-eyed Peliani and ask them to raise the R?ll’s mother to get him to stop the ritual? I’m sure she’d have some choice words for him. And I’m sure the R?ll would listen like an obedient son,” Vine said sarcastically.

“…They could do that?”

Vine shrugged. “Why not? Some parts may be missing, but she could probably still gurgle.”

“She’s been dead for…” Nerys had no idea. “That doesn’t matter. You really think I should accept? You’re not…”

“Not what?” Vine grinned, showing his knife-sharp teeth .

“Nevermind.” The demon had a point—the role of High Maid was important at court, for all that it was a soft power. The role would put her near the R?ll, or at least in his line of sight. It was better than hiding in the shadows as Qiana’s ward.

“You’re thinking about it,” Vine teased. “You think I’m wise.”

“I think you’re irritating—and I’m going to talk to Qiana first.”

“Of course.” Vine crossed his legs. “We must get Qiana’s permission first, mustn’t we? Aren’t we a good little ward…”

Music carried through the hall—an upbeat minuet, which prodded parties to dance in a mechanical rhythm.

Nerys swept through the dance, touching one hand after another, moving through partners as the rule of the dance commanded.

At least she didn’t have to talk. And at least she remembered the steps.

And then the music ended, leaving her holding some Sun Holder’s son’s greasy hand. Dammit.

“I hope to see more of you at court, My Lady,” the yellow-haired man said in a tone that was both expectant and commanding.

“That is a guarantee,” Nerys said. She wasn’t leaving court soon. She spotted Qiana in the crowd. “Oh—there is my guardian. I must attend to her.” She left before the man could say anything in protest.

She glided up to Qiana and asked to speak with her in private. Qiana excused herself from her companions and guided Nerys a little outside of the crowd. The music had started once more, concealing their conversation.

“What is it?” Qiana asked. “Can’t it wait—”

“No. And for being my guardian, I’ve known raccoons easier to find than you. Think of all the damage I could’ve done to my virtue.”

Qiana huffed. “Assuming there is any left. What is it?” Quickly, Nerys explained what Adelyna offered earlier in the winter garden. Qiana barked out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I misheard. I thought you said, ‘High Maid’.”

“…I did.”

For a moment, Qiana was left speechless. “No,” she finally said, shaking her head, the sapphires gracing her hair sparkling in the light. “That’s impossible.”

Nerys stared at her, not trying to argue. Not with so many witnesses. Though, most were staring at the R?ll, watching him talk to yet another stunning woman. And not her.

“You’re serious,” Qiana said. “She offered the role to you.”

“Very.”

“Oh. Oh, this changes everything.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Qiana crossed her arms and lowered her voice. “You barely know what silverware to use—you now want one of the most coveted and important positions at court?”

“She asked me. I didn’t bring the idea to her.” Nerys crossed her own arms. Really, it wasn’t like she asked for this.

“I see.” For a moment, Qiana’s expression was unreadable. What did Qiana really think about this? She had known the Kor’yitz for her entire life.

“You seem…perplexed,” Nerys ventured.

Qiana blinked. “It’s unusual, even for her. But you did save the Kor’yitz’s life. And Adelyna does love to surprise the court. Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be rejecting her offer.”

“What? Why?”

Qiana held up a hand and proceeded to count on her fingers.

“Let me list the reasons. One, you are not ready to handle such a role. For all that you have learned, you would flounder. The social pressures alone…no. I can’t even think of it.

Two, being in such a role would attract far too much attention—if you accept, I give it two months, at most, before someone discovers that the real Callidora is dead.

I know Adelyna—she looked into you before making the offer, as best she could on such short notice.

I’m shocked the updated news hasn’t reached her already, which I can only attribute to the news not having reached her informants. Yet .”

“But I’d be near the R?ll—”

“Three, the R?ll doesn’t associate with High Maids.”

Nerys clenched her skirt. “I don’t understand.”

“Consider it respect. The High Maids are Adelyna’s, not his to toy with.”

Nerys huffed. “That’s hard to believe. He’s never made exceptions?”

Qiana paused. “Well, I cannot say never…”

“Then it would be a good idea.”

“No, Callidora , it is not. And as your guardian, you need my permission. ”

Heat flared in Nerys’s stomach. “It’s my life at stake. My task.”

“ My reputation.”

“Your reputation is going to be mangled one way or another. Soon. You know it—your ward is going to mysteriously flee court. After a tragedy.” Nerys took a deep breath. Qiana glared, but didn’t argue. “Regardless, I don’t have time. I don’t have months. I’ll be gone before anyone finds out.”

The conversation lapsed. The music picked up to a frantic pace.

For the sake of Nerys’s feet, she chose the right dance to miss.

Would Qiana make her miss this chance to be closer than ever to the royal family?

If Qiana really refused, how was she going to say “no” to Adelyna and keep her position as the Kor’yitz’s current favorite?

“Fine,” Qiana pronounced.

“What?”

“If you insist on this, I won’t stop you.”

“Uh—”

Qiana huffed. “I still think you are a fool. You’re already receiving more invitations than you can accept, and it’s just a matter of time before you reach your goal. Being near the Kor’yitz has done that for you. You don’t need this.”

“So? The R?ll is not going to attend a Sun Holder’s portrait unveiling, or browse fabric with a Lesser Supreme Landholder,” Nerys said, listing off two, unfortunately real, engagements. “I need to be near him.”

“Which would have come in time. But this is your decision. Why listen to me? I’ve only been at court my entire life.” Qiana glanced back at the crowd. “Enough of this. We’re attracting attention as it is.”

Nerys nodded and went her separate way, affecting that expression of indifference mixed with mild constipation that she used to mimic court women. Thirsty, she made her way to the refreshment table and helped herself to a goblet of something sparkly and blissfully alcoholic.

And then turned to find the Jeliani ambassador standing in front of her, staring with a rather pointed expression.

What was her name, Biday, Vinny…Vinay. The one thing about Vinay was that she was a very gray lady, from her hair, to her robes, and somehow to her complexion. Her temperament probably matched.

“Sword Man,” Vinay said in greeting, with all the enthusiasm of a brick.

“Ambassador. ”