Page 49

That evening, Anneli helped me dress for the banquet, choosing a gown fashioned with two pieces.

Silver thread added shimmer to the sleeveless blue brocade bodice.

The low neckline emphasized my breasts while the beaded waistband of the separate skirt dipped low around my hips.

The design exposed my midriff and highlighted the six-pointed star inked on my skin. The sigil of the High Mage.

When I questioned the seductive style, Anneli explained that sex, or the promise of it, attracted the people powerful enough to pay for a mage’s services.

For both men and women, the role of a lover was lucrative, a way to pass the time enjoyably, and it was easier than casting magic or healing sick cows—which she said was a rather disgusting way to earn a living.

“Although interest in you revolves around dragons,” she warned, not unkindly. Rumors circulated through Shiala. Most believed Sarnorinth’s arrival and his departure with Bogo was a demonstration of power, proving my Skyborne heritage. Raising my value.

“Halla Taja will choke on the words,” Anneli added. “But she’ll offer you a position tonight.”

“She hates me. ”

“Everyone hates a high mage. You learn to use their scorn.”

Anneli spoke as she arranged my hair, fashioning intricate loops at the crown of my head, leaving long pale strands to drift down my back.

Her concentration was intense, but her tone remained even when she said, “Commit to no one tonight. Play one against the other and pretend an interest in each contract that’s offered. ”

She’d promised to stay with me because I’d be meeting Tarian Ardalez as the High Mage and not as Silk.

I’d had no update on Nikias since Kion told me he had men around my brother, but much had happened since then.

The Malice Moon had grown stronger, and dragons were no longer a convenient rumor that Thales could dismiss as a rebel hoax or elephant bones.

“The red priests are here,” Anneli continued. “The Stone Tower neutralizes their power. The enemy to fear is Eydis Khoth. He’ll have assassins with him.”

“Are the assassins also mages?”

“In the Faded Lands, no one with power moves without magic wielders. Trust no one tonight. Not even me.”

“Are we not the Witch of Perun and the Skyborne Mage?” I teased.

She folded her hands around my shoulders. “Games must be played if you want to survive.”

I picked up the red cosmetic Anneli offered, smoothed the color across my lips, outlining each curve.

“A little more here.” She took the brush, stroked the color the way she wanted. “The red suits you.” She set aside the brush and stood back with her arms crossed. “You look lovely. Your mother would be proud.”

The main feasting hall in the castle sparkled with greenery, gold, and light.

Minstrels played their tunes from a balcony.

The women wore gowns that swirled with rainbowed color.

Men wore blue uniforms draped in gold braiding.

The King of the Southern Lands wore black brocade; a gold crown held the waves of his brown hair close to his face, the perfect, elegant frame, as if he wished to be painted that way and have the portrait hanging in the King’s Hall.

Such a portrait would be stunning. I’d forgotten how beautiful Tarian Ardalez was when compared to other men, but he no longer set my heart racing.

His charm remained potent, but I’d never wear another bloody gown for him, or invade a man’s mind at his command.

The facade had dropped away. I saw Tarian as he was, not a savior but just another selfish king, standing beside Halla Taja because she had what he wanted.

“Senaria Wraithion,” Halla Taja murmured as we approached; she wore gold silk with a glittering tiara nestled in her dull hair. The jewels around her throat looked heavy enough to make swallowing difficult.

For the king’s benefit, she continued with the introductions. “Anneli Zayas. High Mages of the Stone Tower.”

When neither of us bowed, the queen’s lips thinned. “We are pleased that Senaria has returned from exile to fulfill her duty.”

Tarian smiled. “Senaria was my justice speaker for seven years, although I considered her my ward and never thought she was in exile. Thales is her home, and I regret the circumstances that drove her away.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have trusted a Davinicus ship,” I said evenly.

“Storms at sea are always unpredictable,” the king agreed. “Nikias sends his love. He’s excelling in my King’s Guard. You would be proud of him, as I am.”

I held Tarian’s gaze, seeing a man who lied, who always thought of me as a dutiful girl easily swayed. He still believed the fantasy.

How shocked would he be if he knew what I wanted to do? This arrogant ass who never once imagined I might slip into his mind? I could make him believe he’d stopped breathing or that his heart failed because he’d swallowed poisoned wine.

How sweet would it be to see his eyes bulge? Watch his face grow ruddy instead of that perfect, glorious glow? I ran through the revenge choices open to me and settled on offering Tarian Ardalez a bland smile.

“I look forward to seeing Nikias again,” I said, while Anneli signaled her approval with a nod.

“Agree to meet with me,” the king said—and wasn’t he quick to put that earnest tone in his voice? Use that benevolent wave of his hand? I thought I’d be sick if I stood there much longer.

“But not tonight.” Thankfully, Halla Taja put a regal hand on Tarian’s arm.

“Geography divides our realms, but not our common goals. Each day, the Malice Moon grows stronger and the need for a united front becomes more urgent. But Senaria’s alliance is with Shiala and the Stone Tower through her bloodline.

We won’t barter for her services over a festive meal because you’re indulging in nostalgia. ”

“Alliances can be broken as easily as they are built,” Tarian countered. “Senaria’s relationship with Thales is also through her bloodline. She grew up there. Her father was an admired member of my court. And as a High Mage, her services are not yours to barter.”

“Shiala and Thales,” Anneli purred. “This sounds like a negotiation.”

“It’s an invitation to dance.” Tarian held out his hand, an imperious gesture I didn’t refuse after seeing Halla Taja’s expression. Annoying the queen while deluding Tarian was gratifying when they both deserved it.

The minstrels played a familiar tune, but how odd, having the king guide me to the center of the room.

Couples came together in the opening moves of the dance, and Tarian wrapped his fingers around mine.

I didn’t want to touch him—this man who pulled me from a dungeon after putting me there.

Who offered what I’d always thought was a pardon.

Now, he was more subtle, using Nikias’ good wishes and a hope for a reunion.

Expecting me to fall to my knees in gratitude.

Press my forehead into pools of blood for him.

We moved through the first steps. Tarian bowed, stepped back. I curtsied, extending my hand, which he reclaimed. “You look beautiful tonight, Silk.”

“It is a change, isn’t it? Without the veil.”

“You were always alluring.” His smile matched the charm in his voice. “That’s why I hid you away.”

“To protect me? ”

“Your father requested it before he died.”

I stumbled, and Tarian tightened his hold.

“I’ve surprised you,” he murmured close to my ear. “Yes, my dear, your father confessed his sin to me. Begged for my protection if the Stone Tower ever searched for their wayward mage—your mother. Even though she was gone, he feared for you.”

I moved woodenly. Tarian covered the awkwardness as he guided me through a turn, his steps strong and confident. With my back close to his chest, his free hand slid down to cup my hip, his fingers pressing against my skin. “I waited, Silk, for time to pass. For my interest in you to be…acceptable.”

“Was I so young, at nineteen?”

“Innocent,” he murmured.

“But not too innocent to be turned into Silk?”

“You have a gift. I wanted to guide you.”

I moved Tarian’s hand and stepped away. “How many men did I condemn for you during that guidance? How tightly have you ensnared Nikias with his dream of the King’s Guard? You used me instead of offering the truth. You sent me to the red priests—”

“For your protection,” the king insisted. “When I learned the Draakon of Dangira was hunting for you, I…reacted.”

I would not make eye contact. Refused to allow Tarian the satisfaction, choosing instead to stare at the couple dancing past us.

“Where was the protection when you ordered me to interrogate that same Draakon?” I asked. “When you locked me in a storeroom with him, on a ship sailing for Deimos in the middle of a storm?”

“Locking you in was Ildoran’s doing, not mine,” Tarian hissed.

“How convenient, when he’s not around to defend himself.”

Tarian calmed himself. “No one knew who the prisoner was, but he was dangerous and would have been contained on Deimos. And you would have been safe.”

“No one is safe in the red city.”

Tarian bowed his head, an unexpected gesture. “You are wiser than your years, and I…I should have done more. Confided in you. I…regret the mistakes I made, and hope you can forgive me.”

We circled the room in silence. Tarian stared over my shoulder while I stared at the cassocked priests standing against the stone walls, menacing even without weapons. “Why are they here?”

“Protection,” he said. “Why did you become a high mage?”

“Protection.”

His eyebrows arched. “The Stone Tower has your loyalty now?”

“Yes.” A necessary lie, but deception required courage. Let Tarian imagine where my loyalties had settled and how hard it would be to get Silk back. “But what of your loyalty? Do you petition me because you want dragons? Do you hope I’ll give them to you?”

“I care nothing for dragons when the priests have developed wyverns. ”

“Beyond your control,” I replied coldly. “I’ve met some of those wyverns. Killed them.”