Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(61)
I flinched when Floquart spoke. “What does a young Auraseer know of the gypsies?” he asked. “Didn’t you spend your life in the convent at Ormina?”
My heart hammered as I tried to shake away another flood of horrible thoughts. I refused to look at Valko, for fear he would see the guilt in my countenance. It took me a moment to remember what we were talking about: I had told the emissary where the Romska traded spotted horses. “My brother has a fascination for horses,” I replied. “He wrote letters.” A lie. I had an older brother, but he had died when the Abdarans raided my hometown of Bovallen five years ago. Or so the Romska had told me. I couldn’t remember my brother’s face, either.
The emissary studied me a moment. His gaze dropped to where my shoulder pressed against the emperor’s throne. He turned a scrutinizing look on Valko, as if amazed he tolerated my close proximity. Perhaps Valko shouldn’t, not with someone like me.
Again, that self-consciousness, that shame and darkness, churned in my belly. I locked my jaw and struggled to prevent another wave of destructive thoughts.
At length, Floquart pursed his lips and fluffed the lace spilling out from the hem of his sleeve. “I trust your laws are severe in regard to the gypsies,” he remarked to the emperor. “They’re a loathsome people, always begging, always on the move. A plague to civilization. Why, Estengarde put quite a number to death a few years ago when their tribes multiplied beyond reason.”
I stared at him in horror. Bile rose in my throat, and my dismal remembrances were forgotten. “How inconvenient for you,” I bit out.
Oblivious to my anger, the emissary sighed and shook his head. “Indeed, it was inconvenient.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms, sensing his false and barren compassion.
“But to maintain order, a kingdom—an empire, I dare say,” he added to Valko, “the monarchy must be prepared to wrestle with such decisions and make the choice for the greater good, whether that means thinning the gypsies . . . or even abolishing harlotry.” He wrinkled his nose at me. “It is widely known our Esten ladies prize fidelity in a partner above all else.”
I recoiled, both confused and affronted. Was he insinuating I was a harlot? What roles did the Auraseers in Estengarde play that I wasn’t aware of?
I was a breath away from telling him what I thought of his greater good, his butchered ideals, and his disrespect to me, when Valko abruptly stood. “Shall I show you our treasury, Monsieur de Bonpré?”
Floquart blinked, but recovered quickly from his surprise. I didn’t hide mine. What was the emperor doing? Wouldn’t he defend me? “Thank you,” the emissary said as he rose and gave his coattails a straightening flick.
I pulled myself to my feet, my body rigid, already dreading the hour I was to spend with them. It was all I could do to not scratch out the emissary’s eyes.
“Sonya, you stay behind.” Valko’s voice was firm, as was his grip on my arm when I tried to advance. Floquart’s gaze riveted to where to the emperor and I touched.
“But—” I said, eyes flashing at the emissary, “I am your protector.”
“Then protect me from here.” Valko gritted his teeth. He spun away and descended the dais. Floquart tossed me a grim smile as he fell in tow.
I crossed my arms and watched the emissary leave, all the while struggling to contain my boiling fury. Condoner of slaughter. Callous fop. All manner of silent curses filled me until I was fit to burst. Why was Valko angry with me for being insulted? His pretty speech before the ball had made me feel revered. Why hadn’t he stood up for me when Floquart essentially called me a whore?
As Valko and the emissary retreated through the great doors of the ballroom, the orchestra went silent and the nobles faced the emperor and bowed. Several Esten and Riaznian guards followed behind the two men. I paced back and forth. At least the emperor would have some level of protection. Not that I cared. Perhaps it was better this way. For all the tortuous thoughts I was having, some time away from Valko might be best.
When the last of Floquart’s entourage swept away, my gaze fell upon a young Esten girl, close to my age. She wasn’t dressed in the pale silks of her fellow countrymen. Instead, she wore a simple black dress that did nothing to compliment her sallow complexion. Her dreary countenance and sunken eyes were just as distressing. In her favor, however, she had a lovely shade of auburn hair, which helped me see how pretty she would be if she smiled or showed some spark of vitality.
No matter how I focused in on her, I couldn’t latch on to the weak pulse of her aura and guess at why she had traveled with the emissary. But as she shuffled to the ballroom’s threshold to exit through it, she suddenly halted and turned to look me directly in the eye. The hair on my arms shot up. The girl’s aura strengthened and reflected my own curiosity. The ultra-aware energy she emitted was deeply familiar. It prodded around inside me like an animal testing a new cage.
That’s when I recognized her for what she was—the like of which I hadn’t seen or felt since I gave Dasha and Tola a final glance of farewell at the convent in Ormina.
Another Auraseer.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I GASPED AS THE ESTEN GIRL WALKED OUT OF SIGHT. MY MIND whirred as I tried to absorb what I’d just discovered.
Auraseers were scarce. As girls who suffered the full range of feelings from others, we were drawn to each other, almost if we shared the same blood. That compelling connection made me hope I’d find more than one friend at the convent. But even among them, I was too strange, too unusual. I touched my black ribbon. Too dark-hearted.