The Bound (Ascension #2)(45)

“We’re ready to head out,” the soldier said. “You will bring the rest of your party with you.”

“No. They will stay,” he said.

“The summons requests your party as well,” the soldier said.

“They’re not necessary. Just some people I traveled into the city with,” Orden said.

“A summons from the King is a summons. I cannot leave without the party as well.”

Orden ground his teeth and then nodded. He turned toward Cyrene and Avoca. “Perhaps the women should freshen up first.”

Avoca grabbed Cyrene’s arm and hurried her toward the stairs. “We’ll only be a minute.”

Cyrene waited until they were upstairs before unleashing. “A Prince! By the Creator, how did I not see it before? The man is the most infuriating person I’ve ever encountered, and I thought Ceis’f and Kael were high up on that list. Now, he is dragging me into the castle to meet the King while Kael is up there!”

“Would you be quiet?” Avoca said. “I want to slaughter him as much as the next person, but we have got to get you out of these Byern clothes and do something about your hair. You can’t stroll into a castle, looking like a fugitive. When my mother issues the equivalent to a summons, she never sees the whole party unless it’s for a specific reason. So, let’s just use this opportunity to scope out the area for Maelia and try not to be seen.”

“If I get the opportunity, I’m going to punch him in the face,” Cyrene grumbled.

“Allow me to do it for you.”

Cyrene acquiesced, and then they went to work, changing her clothes into proper Aurumian clothing—a dark green dress with huge overlapping skirts and enormous long sleeves that tightened around her biceps. Avoca plaited Cyrene’s hair and then hastily pinned it up into a bun.

“That’s going to have to do. Look at me quick.” She used her earth skills to paint Cyrene’s face.

Cyrene’s lips turned a fuller red, her eyes changed from their vivid blue to a dull brown, her cheeks tinged with red rouge, her nose appeared thinner by the makeup, and her cheekbones were severely accentuated. She hardly even recognized herself.

Cyrene touched her cheek in awe. “You will teach me how to do that?”

“Eventually,” Avoca said. “It won’t last forever. I’ll have to touch you up, but it should last through the summons. If I had more time, I could change your hair color, but we have to go.” She produced an Aurumian hood, which was in fashion at the time. It was rounded at the top with a dark veil to cover her bun, obscuring most of her hair from view. After securing it in place, Avoca nodded. “Let’s hope that’s enough.”

“Ladies,” Madam LaRoux called from the other side of the door as she banged on it. “You have an appointment with the King. You should not keep him waiting.”

Avoca swung the door open and walked briskly past Madam LaRoux without saying a word. Cyrene grasped her cloak in her hand and followed after Avoca.

The soldiers ushered them outside. Their horses had been saddled while the girls were upstairs.

As Cyrene looked around for Ceffy, Orden walked right up to her.

“This is yours,” he said quietly. “Your dapple is too recognizable in the city.”

She nearly cursed but nodded. “You lied to me…to all of us,” she said softly.

“And you were always so forthcoming?” Orden asked. “My past is my past. Lord Barkeley is as much me as the meek girl who tripped over the soldier’s boots in Strat is you. It is a part I play. Now, the most important part that you will play is an invisible one. Your disguise is good but not perfect. Do not, under any circumstances, draw King Creighton’s attention. He has a habit of keeping pets around.”

Cyrene arched an eyebrow. “Pets?”

“Beautiful young women. He goes through them weekly. We cannot afford the delay that would bring or the chance that you would run into Prince Kael while there.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Up you go,” he said.

He hoisted her up into the saddle, and she adjusted her skirts to fit on her perch. She would have killed for her divided riding skirts from back home.

Orden hurried into his saddle and then rounded on Avoca, sitting on her horse. She glared at him while he spoke but eventually nodded. Clearly, he had gotten the same information into her head because she kept shooting furtive looks back at her.

“Formation,” the soldier called.

Then, the men formed up around them.

Cyrene heeled her horse into line next to Ahlvie. He gave her an easygoing smile that he always had plastered on his face. She could tell, underneath it all, he was anxious for her, but he kept up a stream of jokes the entire way through the city and up to the royal castle.

“So,” he asked, leaning over toward her, “has she asked about me?”

“Who?”

Ahlvie gave her an exasperated look.

She returned his look with a coy wink. “Oh. I think I know who you mean. Didn’t I tell you to steer clear of her?”

“Do I ever listen?”

“No.”

“And you said that our good friend Roran would kill me if he knew my intentions. There have been no deaths.”

Cyrene rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I’m dense. I’m sure it is only because our good friend Roran has not learned of your intentions yet.”