Page 27

Chapter 27

Beatriz

Laude and I took a long walk around the palace, our steps weighed with the knowledge that we only had a few days to live should The Black Knight get his way. By the time we made it to our guest quarters, our forced silence had become so charged that my markings lit up on their own, and I didn’t stop it. Invisible tentacles crept from my body and vined their way around Laude, dragging back panic and four horrifying words: Whyzer Patro must die.

To break the connection, I stepped out onto the balcony, praying. Ancient One, there must be a way to know who’s involved without risking passing into the afterlife. I beg for wisdom.

Scanning the dock, I let my gaze drift over people the size of a child’s plaything from this height. Zichri, Jaime, my brother, and all his friends could have disappeared for all we knew.

“Beatriz.” Laude had a note of shock in her voice.

I marched into the immaculate bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed to a red hibiscus and a white rose atop folded parchments on a side table.

My heart faltered. This could be some sort of trick or a friendly gesture. I picked up the red hibiscus and found my name scrawled in Zichri’s handwriting. A sigh escaped my throat. A friendly gesture.

Laude snatched the note under the white rose and squealed with delight. “They must have had these sent.” The awe in her voice lifted the boulder from my heart. “What does yours say? Mine says Jaime wants to pick me up here at sunset to accompany me to the dining hall.”

“Mine says,” I flipped the note open and read, “May I have the first dance tonight? Zichri.”

She clung to my arm and bounced on her toes. “This is so exciting. But Pri—Beatriz!” She stepped back, sweeping her gaze over me. “We only have a couple of hours. You cannot have your first dance with Zichri looking like…” She gestured over my whole body.

“Are you trying to say I need to change?” I lifted my chin.

“Yes, and you need a bath.” She pulled on the chain to call the servants.

By the time the sun had painted the sky into shades of orange and purple, Laude approved of my appearance. She had braided my hair, since she was convinced that no maid would meet her standards and had helped me into my dress.

“You know you’re more than my lady-in-waiting and not a maid anymore?” I stood in front of a full-length mirror while she adjusted the back of my bodice.

“This is my specialty. You wouldn’t rob your best friend of this joy?” She caught my eye in the mirror, observing my reaction.

A slow grin twisted up the corners of my mouth. “Yes, Laude, you are my best friend, and I would never rob you of this joy.”

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. I hadn’t realized she was insecure about her standing with me, especially since I had been very forthright. With all the secrets and vows, could there be more to her fears? But I couldn’t imagine what else she might hide. Someone knocked at the door, and Laude sauntered to answer it in her sky-blue gown swirling around her legs.

I longed for a moment alone with Zichri where I could enjoy his company without Cosme’s prying stare, Monserrat’s inquisitive arched eyebrow, or even Laude’s unflinching attention. But the heavy burden strapped under my puffy sleeve with cursed words and the date of my last breath kept me from basking in the prospect of my first formal dance with Zichri. My olive green overdress bespoke my love for Giddel, and I tucked the relic under my gown.

Laude flung open the door to find Zichri and Jaime holding bouquets out to us. Jaime had slicked back his dark hair in the Aracibel fashion, but Zichri kept his in its usual rogue style, the one where his hair tips fell loose around his ears. I sucked in air at the sight of him.

Laude flung herself into Jaime’s strong embrace as he held her bouquet up to keep it from being crushed. “Pink! My favorite color.”

I measured my steps, trying to maintain a firm line over my lips, ever the princess. A smile still broke across my face despite my attempt to be subdued. Silly, I know. Zichri extended his fiery bundle. A coral hibiscus with streaks of hot pink in the center; red, yellow, and orange petals filled the rest of the bunch.

His dimples deepened with his grin. The warmth of his acceptance and attention drew me closer. He’d remembered my favorite flowers from all those walks we took in Giddel when he stayed for a week to heal from his battle wounds.

“I picked them just for you.” Zichri kept his brown eyes trained on my reaction. “Tell me, how did I do?”

To keep the flutters within my chest at bay, I grabbed the bouquet and inhaled a flowery breath. The perfume settled over me like a cool mist on a hot day.

“Prince Zichri, you chose well.” My voice came out in a velvety tone.

He drew nearer, and my breath hitched like it had earlier. I could throw my arms around him or lean in a fraction to rest my head against his chest. All those months wishing to see Zichri melted into this moment.

I rocked onto my tiptoes and leaned in as if to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll use my gift. I’m scared we might have run out of tomorrows.”

He stepped back, inspecting the walls, and offered his arm. “I have the same fear, but we mustn’t dwell on that right now.” Something about the way his eyes crinkled in the corners gave me the impression that this wasn’t the place for this conversation.

“Aren’t we supposed to conceal your identity?” I hesitated to touch him.

“You are correct.” He dropped his voice. “But now that we know the plan and that our days may be numbered, I much prefer to enjoy the little time we have with the lady I love.”

I clung to his arm. The four of us promenaded through the passages and into the dining hall. The tables encircled the space in the middle like the night before. This time, more musicians lined up against the back wall. A servant escorted us to the same seats from the previous night, and Zichri kept to my side.

He whispered in my ear, “So, what is your response to my letter?” His breath tickled my neck.

“We’re dancing tonight?” I tapped my chin playfully.

“That’s the rumor.” He sipped from a glass. “Mmm … Hibiscus water. They remembered.”

Cosme entered with Minerva at his side. The curly-haired girl radiated beauty under the torch light. Her turquoise gown accentuated the sleek curves of her torso, and the elegant gold stitching caused the eye to trail down to her flowing skirt. It was impossible to avoid the admiration in her gaze when she looked up at Cosme. Worst of all, Cosme reflected the expression as he patted Minerva’s hand.

Inwardly, I groaned. Wasn’t he trying to reestablish a betrothal? Even if he didn’t believe Monserrat would take him back, he should at least feign interest in her. I whipped a look over at Monserrat who would have crushed her pewter mug in her palm if it were glass. Monserrat managed to make even a scowl appear refined with the upturn of her chin.

Who could blame the princess for her reaction?

Cosme led Minerva to a seat around the table and paid his dues to King Sebastian and Queen Tatiana. The reserved expression that masked my brother’s face was almost laughable after the jubilation he’d just expressed with Minerva. He took three smooth strides and greeted Princess Monserrat with a kiss on her cheek. Monserrat tipped her face away. Cosme backstepped and glanced about the room. When he met my stare, he waved like he was shooing me away.

Zichri leaned close. “They have a strange relationship. Are most betrothals in the alliance like that? We’re a bit more … amiable to our betrothed in Himzo, especially if we’re trying to win their favor after an argument.”

I tore my gaze from Cosme. “Argument?” I pitched my voice low. “He broke his betrothal to her and for good reason. Did he not tell you?”

“No, he mentioned an argument.”

It dawned on me that Zichri hadn’t seen the first letters Monserrat copied. Why did Cosme share partial information with everyone? I bit the insides of my cheeks.

“Does he love her?” Zichri’s question pulled me from my thoughts. An earnest expression marked his features and stirred like honey in my heart.

“Not like my papá loves my mamá.” I adjusted my collar. “But most royal couples don’t have that sort of affection. My parents’ story is unusual.”

“Is that why you had a ceremonia to choose your suitor?” he asked.

I peeked to my left. Lucas leaned an elbow on the table, stealing glances in my direction, and chatted with Fermín, not so oblivious to me. On the other side of Zichri, Laude giggled, and Jaime watched her with a special twinkle in his eyes. No one eavesdropped that I could see.

“Since I hold no real sway over kingdom affairs in the future, they gave me an opportunity to choose you. Well, so long as we can procure a treaty.” My cheeks burned at saying such bold words. I sipped from my cup, relishing the sweet and tangy flavor.

“Then I am blessed that you have no sway.” The hint of a smile touched Zichri’s cheeks, but as he looked over the crowd, he grew more serious. His lips protruded, pointing toward Monserrat and my brother.

Monserrat brushed Cosme aside. Low murmurs passed between the two, and Cosme signaled for a servant. The man rushed behind us, shouting to another man for a chair and an extra place setting. Within two minutes, Cosme sat between his ex-betrothed and one of her young brothers. Had they reunited? It was hard to tell.

Minerva slipped into the chair across from me with her head low and gaze fixed on the plate before her.

King Sebastian caught sight of the new seating arrangement and grimaced. His attention shifted toward the double doors across from him. He dug through his pocket and slapped it closed again. Two servants carried a pig on a spit to the king’s table, but the king stretched his neck to peer at the doors again. Who was he expecting?

Something about the evening didn’t feel right. Many of the same faces as the previous night took their seats. Happy conversations abounded, and it seemed that Cosme had achieved some success in his objective. Perhaps it was that all seemed too perfect for a king who planned to betray us.

Energy trickled along my arms, swirling through the markings on my skin. This proved an excellent time to gather information by whatever means possible. After all, that’s why we’d traveled to Aracibel. Tingles slipped along my forearms and graced my knuckles. The glow remained faint and under control.

Hadn’t Uncle Uly said I could shape emotions? I just needed to stay levelheaded and calm. An invisible connection formed between Cosme and me, but then an invisible string also latched onto Monserrat. Bitter heat trembled from her. Then, Laude, Jaime, and Zichri had their own lines.

Servants marched around the tables, setting bowls of soup before each of the guests, leaving all sorts of emotions in their wake.

My head pounded with an overwhelming torrent of information. I curled my fingers, nails biting my palms. Even so, the waves of words, anger, disappointment, excitement churned within my chest like a boiling pot of stew.

“Beloved,” Zichri’s brows furrowed with concern, “is all well?” He eyed my fists, and an emotion swept over his expression. The faint lick of his worry trickled into my mind with a whisper: She’s using her gift.

“I can master this.” The words escaped my mouth.

He reached for my hand, but I scooted it away. What if I hurt him or someone else?

Zichri sipped his bacalao soup. The dinner continued like a dance between servants delivering and collecting dishes; laughter, eating, and the strum of jovial melodies plucked across the room. Feelings and scattered words pressed through me, making it impossible to distinguish which emotion belonged to whom.

No amount of encouragement from Zichri settled the nerves that were building up under my ribcage. And Cosme continued to sit stiffly beside his possible future bride with lackluster enthusiasm. I hadn’t attained useful information about him, or anyone for that matter. By the time I finished the last bite of the famed Crema Aracibel custard, I couldn’t think past the flow of murmurs overfilling my head.

Beads of sweat built up around my hairline and upper lip. I maintained rod straight posture and curled my toes in the pointy boots suffocating my feet.

Zichri smashed his lips together, but he needn’t say a word. Concern burbled through the invisible connection like an overfull cup that sloshed with every slight movement.

I stretched a practiced smile, trying to assuage his worries.

“After the royal promenade, I believe I owe you a dance.” Zichri covered my hand with his.

Warmth rushed through me. Heart pounding. Thoughts swimming. My lungs took in one long gulp of air, yet the connection between me and two dozen or more people wouldn’t sever. “I’d like that.” My voice came out raspy.

Oh, Ancient One! Please stop the connection between me and the others. What if I hurt someone? I promise, I didn’t mean it for harm.

A servant opened the balcony doors, and a sea breeze touched my clammy neck. I continued to pray through the entire dance done by the king and queen. The moment the couple returned to their high table, seats scraped backward across the room and beside me. Zichri stood and adjusted the bottom of his doublet. He extended his hand in an invitation for me to stand beside him, and I slipped into his grasp.

The moment should have been a delight, but my skin crawled with every connection and the threat of the letters. We strode onto the dance floor, and he spun me into position. Zichri slipped one hand on the small of my back and lifted my other toward the arched ceiling. A few strums of a guiterna indicated the traditional paso Giddelian would be next. We held our close position with Zichri leading the steps, and my neck tilted up to meet his caring gaze bordered by long lashes. The exact sentiment glowing on his face vibrated through his being along with a whisper: Beautiful.

I blushed. His emotion-filled thoughts should have been private, but I drank in the sincerity in his gaze and reveled in how much I could trust him.

Zichri grinned so wide his gums were exposed. “Keep looking up at me like that, and I might have to beg your papá for a quick wedding.”

I let out an airy laugh. “Isn’t that what you did already?”

“Yes, but it’s taking too long to get a treaty.”

My voice pitched low with the question I’d been desperate to ask. “Is your papá gravely ill?”

The music began. My feet moved on instinct, and Zichri’s firm grasp kept me shifting in the right direction.

“Yes.” Zichri’s tone dampened as he continued to guide my movements. “Papá isn’t himself, and my oldest brother can barely keep control of Himzo. A powerful faction declared that they’ll follow my second brother, Hugo, instead of my eldest, Agustín. I’m forced into hiding because they assume I want power like my brothers. I’m a threat.” He turned my hips and put pressure against my back.

My feet moved in the expected spin. “I didn’t know it was so bad. You seemed ever hopeful.”

“These aren’t the types of things easily shared in a letter.”

“How else am I to get information if you won’t write it?”

His eyebrows drooped in apology, and pain wilted his lips.

I moved my thumb over his shoulder to comfort him when it dawned on me that my skin appeared dull. My grip had tamed the powers within me again. The dance must have distracted me enough to disconnect.

Thank you, Ancient One. I filled my lungs, tickled by the foreign teakwood and coconut aroma clinging to my dance partner.

Zichri leaned down a fraction. “Don’t worry, I’ll get my regular scent back soon.” He winked at me.

I resisted a grunt. How did he always catch me sniffing him?

We continued our round, shifting our hips to match the beat and spinning on cue. Movement caught in my peripheral vision when King Sebastian got to his feet behind his high table. Dozens of couples stopped along with the music. Men in black doublets embroidered with a white double moon entered the dining hall with full confidence marked in their postures. The man at the front of the new party looked familiar. He held his arrogant square chin high, and his steady dark eyes with long lashes scanned the room.

King Sebastian lifted his arms, palms up. “Friends, welcome.”

Zichri turned his neck and whipped his head back around. “I’ll explain later. We must leave.” He pulled me along as he sped over to Minerva who covered her face with a hand.

She pointed toward the balcony arches, and Zichri kept a firm grip on my hand as he led me across the room. The crowd filled in the open space as we slunk between them. I craned my neck to get a better look at the newcomers, but Jaime and Laude slipped behind us, blocking my view.

King Sebastian crossed the dance floor, separating us further from my brother and Monserrat who had been on the other side of the dance circle. Zichri, Laude, Jaime, and I escaped onto the large empty balcony.

Minerva waved a hand over the dark empty corner. Ripples marked the air, as if the space had become liquid. “Get your things. I’ll meet you—”

Lucas rushed out onto the balcony. “I’ll take Cosme.”

“Where are you taking him?” I asked.

Laude hopped into the liquid air and vanished.

I gasped.

Jaime rushed afterwards. He disappeared.

Minerva called to Lucas. “We’ll wait aboard La Lavia. ”

Zichri signaled for me to step into Minerva’s creation, and I rocked on my heels. The hairs on my neck pricked with terror. What was happening?

“We’ll get your trunks and be off to the ship,” Zichri whispered.

“Why?”

“That, Princess, was my brother Prince Hugo. We have our answer, and he’s not exactly keen on keeping me alive.”

I steeled my nerves and rushed into the void.