Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(55)
My shoulders fell with understanding. Tonight Lenka would have her glory by me. I would look the part, once and for all, of the grand sovereign Auraseer.
Three hours before the ball began, my maids returned, and the copper tub was brought inside my bedroom. My skin tingled at the remembrance of who I last saw using it. The maids gave me the careful attention of a bride on her wedding day. All the cleansing, dressing, primping, and perfuming was done with a slowness that set my teeth on edge. Beyond the walls of my rooms, I felt flurries of panic at the last-minute preparations. The fact that six maids were deemed necessary to wait on me when they could be used elsewhere made me feel ridiculous. I thought of the widows living in rags in the border towns of Riaznin, scraping meals together for children who would only grow up to be soldiers, without a choice in the matter. All the while, my face was powdered, my nails trimmed, my lips stained red.
The emperor’s gift was suited to me in that the robes bore no fur trimmings. According to Lenka, Valko even insisted I wear no corset, which, for the first time, made me want one. The emperor must have known all this while that I was free of bindings. His hand had been on my waist often enough. A corset would have provided another barrier beneath my white satin gown. But did I really expect him to make another pass at me tonight when he was so desperate to finalize his arranged marriage? He would be a fool to try.
I ran a hand across the bodice of my dress and skimmed the bones of my ribs beneath it. Even though Valko had ample reason to leave me alone, I wasn’t comforted. I didn’t trust myself to deny him, even if he didn’t make an obvious move. I hadn’t forgotten the first time we kissed. I had initiated that.
As Lenka continued to clothe me, I tried to bolster my courage. Anton once said I’d fared remarkably at resisting his brother. I could fare remarkably again. I could resist my own desires, as well.
My next article of beautification was a tall headdress of embroidered silk stretched over a flat crown standing six inches off my head and dangling with ropes of pearls that brushed my shoulders. Perhaps the emperor thought the pearls would be safe for me, that an oyster didn’t die when it was robbed of its jewel.
He was wrong.
And there were more on the gown itself.
Seed pearls were sewn into swirling patterns across my robes, and when the two front panels parted as I walked, a sash of crimson gossamer could be seen circling my waist.
Unlike touching the potent blood of the deceased dowager empress, the pearls only bore a dull sting. Still, I felt an echo of the oysters’ ghostlike misery. I exhaled, but their auras remained trapped inside my breast. I should be thankful. They would keep me grounded tonight, focused on one type of energy instead of the myriad bound to come.
A large but limited number of nobles dined regularly at the palace. I had grown used to their presence, but tonight would be different. Tonight, both the first and second class of court ranks would be in attendance. I’d heard Councilor Ilyin say that would be nearly seven hundred people.
I fretted over their numbers while Lenka and her maids wrapped long locks of my hair around a heated iron until they fell in soft curls. That my hair should be unbound was another of Valko’s requests. By the time my maids were finished with me, I felt like nothing more than the emperor’s doll.
I stared in my gold-framed looking glass. I could have seen more of myself in the full-length mirror of the ballet room, but I kept that place secret. Besides, I had no desire to see any farther than the sparkling rubies at my throat—seven to match those in the emperor’s crown.
“May I go now?” I asked, eager to escape the maids’ prodding hands. The three hours they had spent in my rooms felt like ten.
As her eyes swept over me, Lenka beamed like I was Izolda reborn. “Of course. Your guard is waiting to escort you.”
I followed her to the door, but no one was outside. Lenka’s shriveled lips pinched together. She craned her neck down the corridor. “Yuri!” she hissed.
The guard who had captured Pia’s heart stood conversing at Anton’s open door. He startled, jerking his gaze in our direction. Anton’s door thudded shut.
Lenka clapped her bony hands at him. “Get down here, you idle boy!”
Yuri had the sort of ruddy skin that was always in a constant flush. Now it crept to his jawline and ears. He jogged down the hallway and bobbed nervously on his feet upon reaching us. “My apologies.” He gave me a little bow—the first time he ever had. I hoped he wouldn’t do it again. Things had always been informal between us.
With a farewell to my maids and one last bit of fussing from Lenka over some excess powder on my chin, Yuri and I set off down the long corridor and began our descent down two twirling flights of stairs. The strained repression in his aura made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. I wanted to ask why he’d been conversing with the prince, but I kept my lips sealed. Yuri attended to more people in the palace than myself, including the emperor, so why not Anton? Still, I couldn’t brush my curiosity aside. The young guard seemed to have been infected with the prince’s air of mystery just by lingering too long at his door.
“You look very nice tonight,” he said at length.
“Thank you,” I replied, and glanced askance at him. It wasn’t that I didn’t think him sincere, but I sensed he was trying to distract me from something. Was he in on Anton’s scheme, whatever the prince meant to have happen tonight, specifically midnight on Morva’s Eve? The thought sent a ripple of anger through my chest. Why had Anton confided in one of his attendants, but never me?