Mask of Shadows (Untitled #1)(79)

“I didn’t think you knew,” I whispered. “I thought you were justice.”

“There is no true justice, and I have let you down, my darling.” She raised a hand to my face and cupped my jaw, fingers cool beneath the edges of my mask. “But I will make it up to you—the traitors are out of time, and their deaths are overdue. Make them pay, quickly and subtly, as you did Seve and Pau.”

She dropped her hands and swept by me, leaving a wake of perfume and confusion.

“My court.” Our Queen raised her arms wide. “My new Honorable Opal is upon us. Behave yourselves.”

And with that, I was Opal—noble and deadly.

A servant led me to a long table, and I sat next to Amethyst. Her hand found mine under the table.

“Relax.” She squeezed my hand and let go. “We’ll have our own party later.”

Ruby was talkative, making up with his body what he lacked in facial expressions, and Isidora dal Abreu nodded to me from her seat across him. They were engaged in a loud, exaggerated argument over poetry I’d never heard or read, with several other nobles I’d never met. Elise listened intently, too far away to speak to me, and I half-listened. The art others heard in poetry had never spoken to me.

Nicolas del Contes cheered his wife on quietly in the argument. His wide brown eyes followed her gesturing hands, and he lounged back in his chair, long legs splayed out under the table. He grinned when he caught me staring.

I’d have to deal with him tonight.

A long high note drowned out Ruby’s latest poem, and Isidora dragged Nicolas to the dance floor in her haste to escape Ruby. He only laughed.

Amethyst spun an older lord with silver-streaked hair around the edge of the dancers, and Ruby vanished into the crowd with a blushing Alonian lord who stumbled over his own feet. Emerald glanced at me across Amethyst’s abandoned chair.

“Not a dancer?” Emerald asked. “I’m sure your young love will sweep you off your feet soon.”

“You watched everything, didn’t you?” I ducked. Elise was off somewhere, and I’d lost track of her. “Dancing not your style?”

Emerald shook her head. “I’m not really the romantic partner type, but much like you, I’d rather not explain my existence every time I step out in public. You’ll learn about us all soon enough—we share common quarters.”

She pointed over my shoulder. I turned.

Elise, dressed in starry silver cotton draped like rose petals, bowed. “You look very handsome, Your Honor.”

“Thank you.” My ill-fitting mask halved my vision, but nothing could hide Elise’s grace. “You look lovely, Lady de Farone.”

She blushed and held out her hand, foot tapping to the tune of an archlute. I swallowed.

“I’m afraid I have to disappoint you.” I gestured to my feet. “I have no idea how to dance.”

“I’ll lead, you follow.” She pulled me from my chair and placed one of my hands on her waist as we walked. The other she held tight in her own. “I had to bribe Ruby to find out you were Opal. You owe me a dance.”

“Well, I have to repay a debt.” I scrunched my nose till the mask rose, and I could see the high spots of color on her cheeks and how her eyes searched for mine through the mask. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss your eyes.” She led me through a series of turns, fingers lacing through mine.

“I could rob you.” I laughed and splayed my hand over her side, taking in the warmth of her skin. I’d not been this close to her since that night, and we’d only those simple memories, but I missed the press of her against me and the flutter of her lips against my neck. We’d so many memories to make. “A bit of familiarity might make you feel better?”

She smiled. “Probably not the best idea. We’ll have to settle for dancing.”

“Yes. Settle.”

We turned, Elise still leading, and her fingers crept up my collar. I stumbled over her feet.

“Sorry, sorry.”

It was all new and happening so fast, but I was here and she was with me. I played with the ends of her hair, the soft strands escaping her intricate crown of braids and curling around my fingers. She shuddered.

“This isn’t so bad though.” The crowd hid us from prying eyes, too many loves and friends caught up in their own lives to care. Elise’s fingers crept farther up my neck with each step. I leaned forward to ease her grip. A spot of ink freckled her nose. “What was the poem?”

Elise blushed, eyes widening. “What?”

“You wrote a poem on my arm.” I trailed my fingers down the arch of her neck, her shoulder, her wrist, and laced our fingers. The music pitched and we spun into the press of bodies. I pulled her closer. “I want to know what it said.”

Whatever I was now, whatever Our Queen had made me, I had Elise, and she would have me. The ink was washed from my skin, but the memories would never fade.

“It was only part of one.” She ducked her head into the curve of my throat. Rosewater and lemons lingered in her hair, sharp and fresh and clearing the scent of death from my new mask. “It’s not even from Igna.”

I laughed. “You wanted me to translate a poem in a language I don’t know and wasn’t learning?”

“I’m still learning it. The poetry was for practice.” She exhaled, breath fluttering against my throat. “Under the moon alone, I broke as ice breaks.”