Seeing my expression, Violetta loops her arm through mine and bends close to my ear. “You must relax, mi Adelinetta,” she whispers. “Especially around the soldiers.”
She is right, of course. I remind myself that no one here can see the true, scarred side of my face. All they see is the illusion of my beauty.
The crowd turns steadily thicker as the evening lengthens. Gradually, as we search for the Night King, I begin to relax. Violetta points out a pair of handsome noblemen and, when they notice us, she giggles and turns away. I laugh along with her, letting her guide us as questions swirl in my mind. Are any of the Night King’s secret mercenaries here?
We wander the entire grounds of the garden before we finally stumble across the Night King’s entourage.
A circle of silk-clad noblemen talk and laugh in a private corner of the garden, where colorful cushions line the grass and a cheerful fire burns in a central pit. A whole roasted pig turns over the fire. Large plates of fragrant rice, dates, and stuffed melon surround the pit. Several dancers have clustered here, enchanting their audience with drumbeats and swirling silks. Others sit and laugh with their patrons.
I know immediately which of them is the Night King.
He is easily the most adorned of the circle, his fingers decorated with thick gold rings and his dark eyes accented with black powder. A slender crown sits on his head. A nobleman to his right is muttering something into his ear. On his left is one of his soldiers, draining the last drops from a wine cup. Several others stand guard nearby, their gloved hands poised over sword hilts. My gaze goes to the collar of his silk shirt.
An enormous diamond-encrusted pin hangs there. Small wonder why Magiano is after such a monstrous thing—I can see the glimmer of it from across the courtyard. I glance around. Magiano hasn’t made his move yet.
Violetta and I come upon the circle. When several noblemen glance up at us, I throw back my shoulders and give them my most dazzling smile. To my satisfaction, their eyes widen and they smile in return.
The Night King laughs as we approach. Then he gestures to a small space of cushions near him. “A night with the prettiest dancers in Merroutas,” he says as we fold our legs beneath us and sit. “Midsummer is kind to us.” His black-rimmed eyes linger on Violetta, then on me. It’s always in that order. “What are your names, my beauties?”
Violetta just gives him a coy smile, while I let myself blush. If only he knew that we are both malfettos.
“No malfettos dirtying your estate,” says the man sitting next to the Night King. “It’s getting harder, sir. Have you heard the news coming out of Kenettra?”
The Night King smiles at him. “What is the new royalty doing there?”
“The Lead Inquisitor of Kenettra has handed down a decree, sir,” the man replies. “All malfettos have already been removed from within the capital and set up in shelters outside the city walls.”
“And what’s to happen to them?” The Night King is still admiring both of us as he talks. He leans forward and offers us a platter of dates.
“Death, I’m sure. We’ve been turning away ships with malfetto stowaways.”
“The Lead Inquisitor,” the Night King muses. “The queen seems to be giving him quite a lot of power, isn’t she?”
The man nods. His eyes shine from the wine. “Well, you must know he’s always in her bed. He has been infatuated with her since he was a little boy.”
The Night King laughs, while we smile along. “Well,” he says, “congratulations to him on a royal conquest.”
So, Teren does care for someone—not only is he a loyal soldier to Giulietta, but he is in love. Is that even possible? I keep my face frozen in a smile and store this information away, wondering how I might be able to use it later.
The nobleman talking to the Night King now turns his attention to me. It takes me a moment to recognize him. I don’t know why I didn’t see him earlier.
It’s Magiano, and he stares at me with a lazy grin. His eyes don’t look slitted tonight—his pupils are dark and round instead, and his mess of braids is neatly tied in a high knot on his head. He is dressed in luxurious silks. I have no idea how he charmed his way to the Night King’s side, but there is no sign of his wild side here. He is as coiffed and charismatic as the wealthiest aristocrat, his appearance so different that I didn’t even know it was him. I almost feel like I can read his thoughts.
Ah. There you are, my love.
“This dancer is new to the city, my friend,” Magiano says to the Night King. He swings an arm good-naturedly around the other man’s shoulders. “I’ve seen her before. She’s very good—she is court-trained, I hear.”
I hide my irritation and just continue blushing. He’s taunting me, throwing little obstacles in my way. So be it. I smile back, wondering how I can lure the Night King away from his circle.
“Is that so?” The Night King claps. “Perhaps you can show us.”
I exchange a quick look with Violetta, then rise to my feet. I stare once more at the glittering pin on his collar. Then I stand before the fire and start to twirl in time with the drums.
I draw upon everything I learned at the Fortunata Court. To my surprise, my body remembers it—I fall into a popular Kenettran dance and make an elegant sweep around the central pit. The other nobles stop to watch me. A memory of Raffaele appears unbidden in my mind, of him teaching me how to walk like a consort, how to flirt and dance. It distracts me, and suddenly, he is here—the illusion of his hand pressing lightly against the small of my back, the silk of his hair falling over his shoulders like a dark sapphire river. I can hear his laugh as he guides me in a circle. Patience, mi Adelinetta, says his beautiful voice. I see Enzo walking in as Raffaele prepares me for a night at the court, and I remember the young prince’s deep scarlet eyes, the way he admired my glittering mask.