A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(86)

He smiled thinly. “It’s through no fault of mine, I assure you.” Dee went to get some more punch. I seized my opportunity.

“Why haven’t you informed all the Masters about Lord Blackwood?” I asked. That certainly surprised him.

“Has Lord Blackwood made mention of our disagreement?”

“He’s told me everything. What are you planning?”

“Nothing.” He held out his hands in a gesture of giving. “His secret is safe with me. I confess I nearly did tell, but it occurred to me that if his secret is known, he’s out of my power. Now my power is greater than before.” He smiled. “Don’t you think?”

Hateful man. “What did you want with Rook?”

“I applaud it, my dear. Your devotion to one so disgustingly low.” Before I could respond, he bowed and disappeared into the crowd. I had to breathe slowly to avoid going up in flames.

The dancing began. Magnus came to me as Dee and I stood on the sidelines, contented to remain observers for most of the ball. “Would you join me in the first waltz?” he said, bowing. I wanted to strike him. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, but tonight I also wanted as little trouble as possible. There were too many watchful eyes in this ballroom. Besides, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me that upset.

“Better you than me,” Dee said into his glass. “I’ll surely be a laughingstock the moment I dance my first step.”

So I took Magnus’s hand, and we turned onto the floor. We orbited each other, our hands arched over our heads, and then we folded together and spun, the lights and the people a blur around us. His dancing was perfect. Of course it was.



“Are you ready?” he whispered.

“Yes.” I made my voice as stiff as I could.

“For God’s sake, I’m sorry. Can’t you forgive me?”

“No,” I said. If I counted to ten, I could avoid getting angry. He gripped me tighter about the waist and pressed me as close as he might dare while we danced.

We applauded the musicians when the waltz ended.

“I don’t imagine that you want any refreshment,” Magnus muttered.

“No.”

“I must say, it’s staggeringly mature of you to answer me with one word at all times. ‘Do you agree, Miss Howel, with Plato’s concept of knowledge as recollection?’ Yes. ‘And how would you go about describing it?’ No. ‘What is your favorite color?’ Maybe.”

“I’m more than ready for my commendation. It means my time with you will be coming to a merciful end.” We were snapping at each other now, and a cluster of young girls with fluttering fans noticed and giggled.

“Where will you go once you’re commended?” Magnus said in a low voice.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something. Rook will come with me.”

“Yes, of course, mustn’t forget dear old Rook. Also mustn’t forget his powers of eternal night and nameless horror—that’s a very good trick for parties.” He paused, then said in a less angry tone, “You need to be careful around him. Something terrible might happen.” As we neared Dee, he whispered, “Despite what you may think, I do care what happens to you.” He swept back into the crowd in search of a new partner.



Blackwood and I took to the floor in a quadrille. He was a skilled dancer, elegant and nimble. The dance also gave us an excellent chance for conversation.

“What did you talk about with Palehook?” he asked as we made a turn.

“Your situation.”

“And?” He had to wait for us to circle back to each other.

“You’re safe,” I whispered. “I think you’ll have to do something about it one day, but for now you’re safe.” After a few more turns, the music ended. The dance was done.

“I didn’t know how lonely I was,” he said as we bowed, “until I had you on my side.” We left the floor together, his hand on my back.

After that, we waited with Dee until Agrippa came out of the crowd. He clapped for the music and nodded to me.

“It’s time, Henrietta. The queen will see you first.”

“Shouldn’t we all go in together?” Dee said, putting his glass down.

“Henrietta is a special case. Come, my dear.”

“In fifteen minutes, it will all be done,” Blackwood said.

I took Agrippa’s arm and walked toward my destiny.





We entered a long receiving chamber. Gentlemen milled about, some in army uniform, others in fine dress. I recognized Imperator Whitechurch, who watched me with an unreadable expression. The men parted and formed an avenue toward a great throne, where Queen Victoria sat.

Lord, she was only a girl, scarcely older than I. She was pale, almost sickly, her dark hair curled in fashionable ringlets, her tiny hands clasped in her lap. She wore a rich blue velvet gown and a great diadem upon her brow. I took a card with my name on it to a gentleman in a powdered wig waiting near the throne. He handed it to the queen. When she nodded, I curtsied before her. She extended her gloved hand, and I kissed it.

“Your Majesty. I am your humble servant. I seek your royal commendation to take up arms against England’s foes and to defend Your Majesty’s life with my own.”