Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(55)

Instead, we merely stare at one another for a painfully long moment. Marial’s expression is inscrutable. Just as the silence starts to become unbearable, she finally speaks.

“You need a bath,” she says finally. “No use having the girls see you this way. I’ll just have to draw it myself.”





IN THE RISER WITH DRAGONSBANE on the way to dinner with some of the suitors, I make the mistake of yawning. I can’t help it: after last night and the hours spent working in the sun at the camp, I’m surprised I’m still standing up straight. Dragonsbane, however, can’t know about any of that, and when she sees me yawn, her eyes narrow.

“Tonight is important.” She says each word slowly, as if talking to a small child. She’s clad in another black dress, this one fitted like a sheath and embroidered with black pearls. It’s a perfect contrast to my own dress of flounced white chiffon. In Astrea, white is the color of mourning, but Marial told me quite bluntly that in Sta’Crivero it symbolizes virginity. Which is hardly subtle, but nothing about the Sta’Criverans seems to be subtle.

“I know it’s important,” I say. “But you’ll excuse me if I pace myself. There will be a lot more of these over the coming days if I’m to get to know all of the suitors.”

“These first three will be our best options,” she says.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

Dragonsbane shrugs. “Every country in the world was invited to try for your hand, apart from Elcourt, which is too closely aligned with Kalovaxia. Etristo is collecting a sum from each suitor, so he wasn’t particularly motivated to keep the list to those who actually have the force to take on the Kalovaxians. Many of the countries are too weak to actually be of assistance, though I suppose their presence only makes you look more desirable.” She pauses, letting that sink in, though it doesn’t exactly surprise me.

“Haptania, Oriana, and Etralia are arguably the strongest countries in the world, after Sta’Crivero,” she continues. “Any of those three has the power to take Astrea back. The others may have the power, but more than likely would only prolong our inevitable defeat.”

“If Sta’Crivero is the strongest country in the world, why don’t they help us directly?”

Dragonsbane smiles at me like I’m a pet who just did an amusing trick. “Because helping you directly doesn’t get them anything. They don’t want Astrea’s magic—you’ve seen how they live, what use would they have of it? They want money, and that is easier to get elsewhere, with far less bloodshed.”

I swallow down my frustration. No one seems to understand that there are Astreans dying in the mines. All they’re concerned about is money and gems and their own safety. If everyone put aside their selfishness, the Kalovaxians could be stamped out as easily as an ant under a boot heel, with minimal effort or risk. But there’s no money in that, so no one bothers.



* * *



—

I expect dinner to be held in the same dining room as last night, but instead we’re brought to a large open-air pavilion with no dining table—just plush sofas and chairs and low tables that are laden with golden plates of finger food and glasses of deep red wine.

We are the last to arrive. King Etristo is already seated in a high-backed chair, frail shoulders hunched over in what seems to be his usual posture, an attendant holding a glass of wine at his side. The three suitors are spread out around the room, each speaking with his own entourage. I recognize Chancellor Marzen’s sister—Salla Coltania, S?ren called her—and Prince Talin’s father, Czar Reymer.

When they notice me, they all get to their feet—apart from King Etristo, who remains seated, though I don’t take it as a sign of disrespect. I don’t think he could stand on his own if he wanted to.

“I told you she would be worth the wait, didn’t I?” King Etristo calls out to the suitors with a laugh, grabbing the wineglass and taking a swig before pushing it back at the attendant without sparing him so much as a look.

“I hope I haven’t kept you long,” I say, noticing that S?ren isn’t here. His presence has been requested at all other official events, but I understand why he’s been left out of this one. King Etristo already mentioned the rumors about S?ren and me; the last thing he wants is that shadow cast over tonight, especially when I’ve refused the purity examination. Suddenly, the white dress seems like even more of an obvious ploy.

“Not at all, not at all. I just thought it would be best for you to all get to know one another in a more comfortable setting. No stuffy dinner here, just an easy night of conversation. How does that sound?”

It sounds like it will be anything but easy or comfortable. “It sounds wonderful, Your Highness,” I say with what I hope is a gracious smile. “Thank you.”

He inclines his head before reaching for his wine again.

I glance around the pavilion, feeling the gazes of the suitors and their guests dragging down on my shoulders. Chancellor Marzen and his sister are sitting closest to me, so I make my way to him first, Dragonsbane trailing behind me like a shadow.

“Hello, Chancellor,” I say, holding out a hand to him. He stands and bends to kiss it with a graceful flourish before letting it drop and gesturing to his sister. Tonight her glossy black hair is piled in a braided bun on top of her head. Her mouth is painted vermilion red and her eyes are rimmed with kohl. She looks like the kind of woman who would bite you as easily as she would smile at you.