Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(94)

“Did you speak to Judge Alessandro yesterday?” I ask. I don’t have any smiles left for him. For anyone.

He stands straight and offers me his hand. “On my life, on the memory of my husband’s, I did not tell the judge where to find you. Nor do I know how he ended up in Justice Méndez’s office fully asleep. Even if you did not hold my secrets, Renata, I would think you and I are friends by now.”

Friends. The word hurts as much as it brings me joy. I take his hand with my gloved left one, and at least this part feels right.

“Do we have to go back?” I ask.

“Only until the last of the performers. Then we have to prepare for the evening festivities. There’s a surprise.”

“Is the surprise that we’re celebrating the sun at night?”

He laughs and I grip the fabric of his emerald jacket too hard. He brushes my hand with his in that way he has of calming me down.

“You know I don’t like surprises, Leo.”

“This one I believe you will like.” He takes a different path than the one I came here on.

For a moment, I think I’m seeing things. There’s a woman the same height and build as Sayida walking past me. Newcomers hurry into one of the many archways that lead to the center gardens to join the party as waiters weave through the crowds with glasses full of cava. I hurry after her, but dozens of bodies cut between us before I spot her again.

I don’t think, I just grab the woman’s sleeve.

The young woman in the golden dress turns around, black hair twisted in twin knots at the base of her neck. Part of me is so desperate to see my friend that I didn’t consider what it would look like, a Robári grabbing another person with my open hand.

“What are you doing?” she snaps at me, so very much not Sayida that I don’t know how I could have mistaken her for my friend. This woman’s large blue eyes stare bewildered at me. She holds a hand up to her lips, as if she’s waiting for someone to come and rescue her.

“Lady Armada, may I escort you?” Leo bows to her, but shoots me a look that asks if I’ve come unhinged.

She spreads a delicate fan open and flaps it about her face, hiding all but the scandalized look in her eyes.

I grab a cava glass off a tray and steer clear of the center garden, where everyone tries to stand as close as they can to the king and queen. I find a shaded spot against a hedge. Though I can still feel the occasional curious stare slink my way from behind fans, it’s better than being surrounded.

A group of children next to me is sitting in a circle. At first, I cannot hear the song they’re singing to one another. But when I do, my heart sinks through my belly and onto the dirt.

They take turns with each line.

“I dug up a Moria grave to find.”

“Two silver eyes to peer in your mind.”

“Three golden fingers, illusions I’ll cast!”

“One copper heart to persuade senses vast.”

“And four platinum veins to lock up the past!”

I turn before they finish the final line, though it’s imprinted in my bones. I dug up a Moria grave! I’ve always hated that rhyme, hated how they reduced us to a children’s ditty, a joke.

“Renata,” Lady Nuria says to my right. I didn’t even hear her approach. Can I truly be this far gone that I’ve let my senses fail? “Where have you been?”

“Leo was showing me the gardens. I hadn’t explored them all before.”

“Let’s dance.” Lady Nuria lifts her chin in a fetching way, the sun warming her brown skin and enhancing the creamy mint color of her lavish gown.

“I don’t dance,” I tell her. I never dance. Even at our Moria bases, when we celebrated the change of seasons, the holy days of Our Lady of Whispers, I didn’t dance.

She cackles in a very unladylike way. I can’t help but like her. Even if she has burned the image of the half-naked prince into my mind.

Lady Nuria is already leading me away, past the eyes that watch us behind fans like lynxes in tall grass. I chance a look at the king, but he’s got the ear of Nuria’s husband, Alessandro.

“Dancing is good for the spirits. I do it quite often in the nude while my husband is away.”

I bark an unexpected laugh. “I suppose that would be frowned upon at a holy festival.”

She smirks, a secretive glimmer in her eyes. What could this bold, reckless young woman do if she were unfettered? I would like to live to find out.

We go to a sitting area shaded with gauzy sheets. Attendants wearing the crest of the Tresoros family—a mountain studded with stars above it—are at Nuria’s beck and call even before her delicate dress hits the velvet bench. She plucks two glasses of cava and offers me one.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

“You’ve asked me that before.” Her dark eyes turn from me and out to the party, where curious stares flick in our direction.

“And you evaded the question. I have done nothing to deserve it.”

She sighs, a pretty thing that makes her appear as if she’s longing for something. I wonder if it’s for Castian. I wonder if taking that one memory has helped ease her heartache or made it worse.

“There is so much wrong in the world,” she says. “Sometimes, I feel the only thing I can give is a bit of kindness, even when I can’t give hope. I wished I’d get to speak more with you, but my dear husband is always watching.”