Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(75)

As the maids moved around my room, drawing a bath and laying out my cosmetics, I thought about the speech and how it would affect life on Bopha. I wished I could ask, but with Elbena here, I didn’t dare.

Throughout breakfast, Elbena went through the latest fashions and gossip from the different Isles, as though I’d been away a year, not a month.

“What about Chenda M’rizz?” I asked. “Will I see her tonight?”

Elbena cocked her head. “Chenda? It’s possible, I suppose. I didn’t realize you were close.”

So either Elbena didn’t know that Chenda was in the Pit, or she didn’t want me to know. It was hard to say which.

“We aren’t close,” I confirmed. “But I’ve always wanted to be.” No need to mention I’d spent thirteen nights across the hall from her. It wasn’t as if we’d actually talked.

“Well.” Elbena leaned forward. “I heard that the Dawn Lady had quite the scandalous affair. People say she and her paramour were going to run away together, but he was killed during one of the riots.”

She spoke so casually about someone dying. Had she always been so callous? Maybe I’d simply never noticed.

“From what I understand, she’s been taking some time to herself for the last couple of decans. I’d be surprised if she joined us tonight.”

Time to herself. Was that the excuse the Luminary Council had given to explain my absence? Had I been taking some time to myself with hard labor, starvation, and torture?

When breakfast was finished, it was time to prepare for my visit to the central Shadow Spire. We began with the bath. While I soaked in blissfully hot water, scented with lavender and chamomile, the maids began the process of restoring me. Two started on my callused hands and cracked nails, while the others took to washing and combing my hair. Quietly, they mused about what to do with it, because the once-soft strands had turned brittle and broken during my time in the Pit. Several pieces (too many to count) fell out, and every time, the maids tensed as though expecting a reprimand.

But when I said nothing about it—what could I say?—they moisturized with coconut oil and shea cream and strong, gentle hands. They weren’t Krasimir, but they were good, and for a few minutes, I forgot.

About the dragons.

About the speech.

About the Pit.

About the people who . . .

The day went by swiftly after that, with a pause only for a light lunch of tiny crab-cake sandwiches, soup, and honey-drizzled strawberries. Then, my hair went into a single, sweeping braid, with three gold wires in each strand to distract from all the broken ends.

“That looks wonderful.” Elbena’s hands floated around the back of my head. “Just wonderful. It’s simple, but elegant. Bophans value simple elegance. You know that, right?” She cast me a sidelong glance, urging me to join in the praise.

“Thank you,” I murmured, unable to give Elbena what she wanted, and unable to give these women what they deserved. In only a few hours, I was supposed to put my support behind a decree that would send all Hartans to another island, whether they wanted to go or not. And Elbena expected me to pretend like nothing was wrong.

How could someone who’d been raised in the light of the Lovers be so cold?

“We’re happy to do our part for the Hopebearer,” said one of the women.

My face heated. They knew who I was, but I didn’t even know their names. And with Elbena looming over me like a vulture, I didn’t dare ask.

Instead, I forced my hand steady as I applied the cosmetics, all carefully arranged just how I’d kept them at home. I erased my sleepless night, and with warm shades of powder, I softened the sharp lines of my cheekbones and darkened my eyes to appear deep and knowing.

If only I could look the part, perhaps I could persuade people to the truth. But what was the truth? I used to believe I knew all there was to understand about the world, but if the last two months had taught me anything, it was this: for the rest of my life, I would question everything.

Then, I could delay no longer. The sun edged westward and it was a good drive from my inn to the central spire, with checkpoints along the way.

“They can’t be too careful these days,” Elbena said as she and a squad of seven Luminary Guards escorted me downstairs and out of the inn, where the white-and-copper carriage waited for us.

The front garden was huge and green, with trimmed hedges and climbing vines that flowered on the fence of gorgeously wrought iron. The gate stood closed, as if the owners expected attack at any moment. As if they had anything to fear from the restaurants and shops nearby. The people strolling along the cobblestone street wore fine white silks and tall boots as they stepped around puddles from last night’s storm.

The carriage door swung open, and Dara Soun, the lady president of the Twilight Senate, unfolded herself from the interior.

Elbena leaned toward me and murmured, “Remember to watch what you say.”

“I’ll be good.” It wasn’t as though Dara was going to help me escape. She’d been the lady president since before I was born and if she’d bothered to help Chenda, it clearly hadn’t worked. Dara Soun was no ally of mine.

“Elbena! Mira! Welcome.” Dara’s voice was huskier than I remembered, and her face bore more lines around her eyes and mouth; even the copper tattoos that crawled up her neck had started to sag and wrinkle. She smiled, but it looked forced and uncomfortable.