Rise of Fire (Reign of Shadows #2)(25)

Sound logic, but nothing that seemed to affect them locked away safely inside this mountain castle. It was as though they lived here untouched by the eclipse.

Maris stood. “You look ready. Come along. We can go in together. I hope you did not ruin your appetite with all those iced biscuits. Although Cook will be glad to hear that you approve of them.”

“I can still eat,” I assured her, rising to my feet, smoothing sweating palms over my skirts. I’d worn dresses plenty of times in the tower, but it felt odd to be in skirts again—as though years had passed since the last time and not a mere month.

Princess Maris looped her arm through mine. “You look lovely. You shall have to beat the swains off with a stick.”

I smiled, but it felt more like a grimace as I marveled at what a strange world I had entered. I didn’t want the attention of a bevy of swains, but maybe it would offer some distraction during my brief time here—because I wouldn’t be staying.

Dinner was no small affair. I heard the din long before we entered the cavernous hall. My steps slowed. “How many people are eating with us?”

“It’s full court this evening,” Maris replied, urging me to resume walking. “Papa is in a celebratory mood.” I could only infer that this was because of Fowler. “Several nobles and their families reside here in the palace. They’ve been here as long as I can remember, keeping safe in the city rather than venturing out to whatever is left of their estates. When Papa feels like it, he invites them all to sup with us in the great hall. The company provides a diversion.”

Ainswind was an alien world buried within the darkness I knew. As we strolled down the wide corridor, my slippers whispering over a lush runner, the warmth from lit sconces bathed my face, drenching me in light. This place hummed and glowed with no fear of monsters.

None of this is real. None of this is real.

The words rushed through me, a reminder that I should not be lulled into safety. No place was wholly safe. Even this fortified castle.

I couldn’t stay. I had my mission. I wouldn’t forget it. I couldn’t. Every day I remained here, every moment that passed, more girls died. Cullan needed to be stopped. The first chance I got, I would put this place far behind me. Once I assured myself that all was being done for Fowler that could be, I would leave this bewildering place. If they tried to stop me, then I would find a way out on my own. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d executed an escape.

The voices grew louder as we approached, and I had to fight every instinct to not turn and flee. I felt more vulnerable than usual in this strange new place. Sounds, smells, people . . . it was long ingrained in me to avoid those things that attracted dwellers.

The Outside, for as much as it carried death in its fold, felt more like home to me. Here I was exposed, no weakness concealed. I flattened a hand over my racing heart, where so much skin lay bared. After pretending to be a boy, the exposed skin felt odd, too.

“Now, I can’t sit with you . . . as much as I would like to.” She patted my hand as we entered the bustling hall. The space was large, the air churning around me and lifting high into vaulted ceilings. “There is a seating protocol, but I shall place you beside someone charming. Trust me.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“That’s me,” she trilled. “Oh la! Look at all the eyes on you. I told you that you looked fetching. We don’t get too many new faces. I can count on both hands the number of guests we’ve had over the years. You shall be all the rage.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” I murmured—or rather, I hoped.

I doubted King Tebald permitted anyone inside the palace who wasn’t perceived as important, and that most certainly wasn’t me. I was only here because of my association with Fowler. My newness aside, I was sure little care would be given me. Everyone would be in a dither over Fowler’s arrival—even if he wasn’t present for the meal. He was the prince of Relhok, after all, and betrothed to Princess Maris.

Elegant slippers and fine boots shuffled over the hard stone surface of the floor. There were too many bodies to count and that made me jumpy, as though my skin were stretched too tight over my bones. I inhaled the delicious aroma of food I couldn’t even begin to identify. My stomach rumbled. At the far end of the great hall, an enormous fire burned and crackled. Several hounds lounged in front of it, their panting breaths and pungent, baking fur eddying around me, flaring my nostrils.

I pushed a hand against my bodice self-consciously and stuck close to Princess Maris, unwilling to be left alone in this room full of strangers. They already saw too much of me in all this glaring light, in this dress with its low-cut bodice. I would not have them see anything more about me.

Following close behind Maris, I sucked in a breath, trying to pick out all the sounds over the band of musicians playing in the corner. No easy task.

A bell pealed loudly over the jumble of noise.

“That’s the signal. It’s time to take our seats. You’re over here.”

I cleared my throat. “Which seat?”

I was grateful to feel her hand close around mine. She had the softest hands, like a child’s. “You can sit next to Gandal. He’s the royal physician’s son. He has very fine eyes.” Her tone lowered suggestively.

I perked up a little at this. Not because of his fine eyes—the part about him being the physician’s son. Perhaps he would have news of Fowler? It wouldn’t hurt to inquire. The sooner Fowler’s well-being was established, the sooner I could abandon this place that made me feel dizzy and so out of sorts. “Thank you.”