Dividing Eden (Dividing Eden #1)(57)

“I’m sure the seamstress will be in great demand after tonight. I am certain people will want to seek her out. I might even want to have a conversation with her myself.”

Her brother’s words set her on edge. “Andreus, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I know you.” Almost as well as she knew herself. “There is something bothering you. If it is Lord Garret, I promise you—”

Trumpets blared. A page appeared in the doorway and bowed. “The Council of Elders has asked me to bid Your Highnesses to join them in the Hall of Virtues.”

“Very well,” her brother said, offering Carys his arm. “Shall we?”

Her stomach tightened at Andreus’s tense smile as she placed her hand on his arm and walked with him at the measured pace their mother long ago taught them was appropriate for ceremonies. They crossed through the corridor and reached the white stone arch and massive gold doors that led to the Palace of Winds’ throne room. The trumpets sounded again, the guards pushed open the doors, and Carys and her brother started forward.

Every face turned toward them and everything went silent as she and Andreus strode into the room. They’d walked this path together at formal events dozens of times in their lives. Always they had entered before their brother Micah and their mother and father—side by side—together. Then they had been the opening gambit. The ones who announced more important, more powerful members of the family were on the way. The court used to pause for them before they continued whatever they were doing. Now everyone was completely still as they once again walked shoulder to shoulder into the spectacularly lit hall.

Orbs of colored lights were everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling. Attached to the pillars. On the wall behind the dais. And the throne was lit in a way that made it appear as though it glowed with the power of the sun. Carys glanced at her brother. His eyes stared at the throne as if mesmerized by its beauty.

She couldn’t remember seeing the throne ever look so beautiful—perhaps because she was used to seeing her father sitting there. Maybe that was what made Andreus watch it with such intensity now. Maybe he too was feeling the pull of memories that clawed at her heart.

Pushing away the mental picture of her father, Carys looked around the Hall as Andreus led her through the crowd to the dais. A group of entertainers stood off to the left. Some held musical instruments. Others were carrying flaming torches they would no doubt juggle and perhaps swallow to the delight of the nobles. But now, all was still. The hundreds in attendance were dressed in the finest silks of every color of the rainbow. Carys was used to seeing judgment in their eyes. Never good enough. Never beautiful enough. Never adhering to tradition in the way they believed she should.

They judged her for her lack of care in their frivolous pageantry. And she judged them right back for their investment in it.

Now, though. Now, she sensed something different.

Each member of the court wore bands of colored fabric, tied around their arms, or wrists, or pinned to their lapels.

Yellow strips of silk, as far as she could see. Yellow for Andreus.

But . . . there were also blue bands. More than those of her brother’s castoffs who had joined her on the viewing stand. More than Lord Errik, who was standing not far from the Council of Elders at the front of the Hall. A strip of light blue set off against the dark blue velvet of his tunic. For every two yellow bands, there was at least one of hers. In this room where she had so often been condemned for her behavior, the show of approval cut through her resentment and warmed her.

When they reached the front of the Hall and turned to face the crowd, she could see the tightening around her brother’s mouth. His eyes met hers for a moment, and even through the haze of the Tears of Midnight she felt the accusation burning through her.

Trumpets began a new fanfare and Elder Cestrum stepped forward to address the crowd. “The Council of Elders and Prince Andreus and Princess Carys welcome you to this ball and the second of the Trials of Virtuous Succession. We thought it was fitting to hold the trial for temperance here, in the place where it is most needed. Strong monarchs must have control over their actions, thoughts, and feelings—especially when seated on the Throne of Light with the fate of our kingdom in their hands. Now the Council will bear witness to the actions of Prince Andreus and Princess Carys during this evening of celebration. The successor who demonstrates the best control over his or her actions will be awarded with a point on the scoring board.”

Elder Cestrum turned to Carys and Andreus and smiled. “Let the festivities begin.”

With that, the musicians began to play and an acrobat bent forward, performed a handstand, and then began walking across the white stone floor on his hands.

“That’s the contest?” Carys asked. “Temperance. How do you judge that?”

Elder Cestrum glanced over to where Garret stood not far from the steps leading to the throne, where he was speaking with Elder Ulrich. When he turned back to Carys, his smile grew even broader. “Any way we wish to, Your Highnesses.”

“I am certain the Council will not be disappointed with me, Elder Cestrum,” Andreus said, giving his sister a look. “Now, if you will excuse me, I see Lady Lillian. She must be heartbroken by Mother’s illness. Perhaps a dance will raise her spirits.”

Andreus crossed the room to the woman in question. Their mother’s friend put her hand to her chest and looked ready to cry when Andreus offered his arm and escorted her onto the floor. Soon they were gliding around the center of the Hall with what seemed to be all of the court nodding in approval.