Ash Princess(Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(29)
Comfort isn’t what drives me here today, though. I’ve been struggling to find places to meet with Blaise—once he gets in touch—but I can’t get to the cellar again without raising the suspicions of my Shadows. There are precious few places in the palace where I actually feel alone. Even here—the garden is overlooked by thirty palace windows, and every now and then I catch a glimpse of my Shadows on their watch from inside, the black hoods of their cloaks up so I can’t see their faces.
The garden is exposed, but that might not be a bad thing for a possible meeting place. There would be people who would see us together, but if he’s working to prune the trees or scrub the stones it won’t seem strange, and Kalovaxians have a bad habit of ignoring slaves. There is nowhere we could be overheard from, and that is what truly matters.
It’s a flawed plan, of course. We wouldn’t be able to say more than a few words to one another without raising suspicions. Flawed as it is, though, it’s the best option I’ve found so far.
“Lady Thora.”
The male voice makes me jump. Unlike Crescentia, I’m not accompanied by maids to keep my reputation pristine. My Shadows watch from a distance, of course, but their job is less to keep me safe than to keep me watched.
Still, I know that voice, and since his letter this morning, I’ve been waiting for him to find me.
Prinz S?ren crosses the stone garden toward me, flanked by two guards whose orders are surely much different than my guards’. Though they are S?ren’s and not the Kaiser’s—not the ones who have dragged me through the halls to answer for crimes I didn’t commit, not the ones who have taken turns with the whip—their eyes are just as hard, and I have to suppress a shudder.
They are not here for me, not today.
I drop to a curtsy. “Your Highness,” I say when I rise. “What brings you out here?”
He gives me a reproachful look. “Your Highness. I thought we talked about this.”
“You did call me Lady first,” I point out.
S?ren grimaces, but his eyes are smiling. It seems to be as close as he gets to any actual signs of mirth. “Old habits, I suppose. Let’s start again. Hello, Thora,” he says, bowing his head slightly.
The name bristles against my skin, though it’s more familiar to me than my real one.
“Hello, S?ren. What brings you out here?” I repeat, tilting my head to one side.
He glances around the stone garden with disinterest. Through his eyes, I imagine, this place is nothing but a ruin.
“I was looking for you, actually,” he says, holding an arm out to me. I have no choice but to take it.
“Me?” I say. Though I’ve been waiting for him to seek me out, I can’t help but remember that the last time S?ren came looking for me had been to bring me to Ampelio’s execution. Could it be Blaise’s now? Or Elpis’s?
I must not hide my worry well, because he rests his free hand on my arm with a squeeze. I think he means to be reassuring, but it ends up feeling awkward and unsure. I suppose neither of us is used to compassion. Still, I appreciate the attempt.
“Nothing like that,” he says, and my pounding heart immediately slows. “You look…” He clears his throat. “That dress is very pretty.”
“Oh, thank you,” I say, glancing away as if I’m flustered. As if I hadn’t again intended it to show just an inch more skin than is common. This time, the top is conservative enough, with saffron yellow silk draping over both shoulders in wide swaths and a neckline high enough to cover my clavicle. I asked Hoa to pin the bodice tighter around my torso than I usually wear it so that it highlights the curve of my waist. She secured it with a ruby pin at my left hip as I instructed—higher than usual, so that the slit starts higher as well. Now each step I take reveals a glimpse of half of my leg. I practiced walking in it for almost an hour this morning in front of a mirror, trying to find the right balance between tantalizing and vulgar. If the way he’s looking at me is any indication, I’ve succeeded.
“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” I ask, deciding to test him. “To secure the trade route from Dragonsbane?”
“In four days, yes,” he says. And there it is—his eyes dart from me, giving away the lie.
So my gut was right—they aren’t going to secure the trade route. I can’t do anything with that information until I know for sure where they are going, but I still feel a rush of pride at being correct.
“I’m a bit nervous about it, to be honest,” he admits.
“I don’t see why you should be,” I tell him. “From what I’ve heard, you’re excellent in battle, and Dragonsbane only has a small fleet. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
He shrugs, but he averts his eyes again. “It’s the first mission I’ve been put in charge of, without the Theyn’s guidance. There are a lot of expectations resting on it, and I’m not…”
He trails off and clears his throat, looking flustered at his admission of weakness. Before I can think of a way to respond, he changes the subject.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t continue your tour of the ship myself.”
“Oh, don’t be,” I say lightly. “It was very kind of you to look after Crescentia, and Erik was a wonderful replacement. It’s a beautiful ship. Does it have a name yet?”