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‘Let’s go,’ he said, steering her towards the palace, the crowd parting like water around them.
‘You’d best be careful, Lord Kittrick, sir,’ murmured an older man in a dirt-covered apron as they passed. ‘He’s on the warpath.’
‘He?’ Oriane asked Kitt desperately as he nodded to the man and ferried her past. He didn’t respond, merely picked up his pace.
Oriane’s stomach flipped unpleasantly as they headed towards the audience hall, where her dawnsong performances took place.91The sound of raised voices grew louder as they approached. Worry tightened Oriane’s chest. What was going on?
Finally, the enormous doors to the hall loomed before them. But as Kitt stretched out a hand to push them open, they burst inward, the king’s voice booming out.
‘… is she now, you fool? Why you didn’t bring her direct—’
King Tomas cut himself off as he saw them. Oriane almost shied away: it was as if an entirely different person stood before her, one she’d never set eyes on before. Anger emanated from the king like heat, making him seem twice as tall. His blue eyes were strangely wide and burning with an unfamiliar fire.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Tomas said, in a low, dangerous voice, ‘Inside.’
Kitt and Oriane followed him into the hall. A handful of servants hovered inside, but they didn’t need to be told to disperse. They fled like sparrows before a hawk, disappearing through side doors and leaving the pair alone with the king.
Oriane was having trouble catching her breath. Kitt stood a little ahead of her, almost as if he hoped to shield her from view.
King Tomas ascended the steps to the raised platform that Oriane had grown so used to in recent days. She noted that, for the first time since her arrival, the throne had been reinstated there. It was a modest thing, for a throne, made of a handsome, dark wood, but plain and unadorned. Still, it carried an aura of power about it. Or perhaps that was Tomas. As he settled himself upon it, he looked more regal than Oriane had ever seen him – nothing like the easy, benevolent ruler she had met on her first day here. Here sat a different kind of king, one who roused a faint flicker of unease in her breast.
He regarded them for a moment, his eyes lingering on Oriane. Then he spoke again in that same soft, unsettling voice.92
‘Where have you been?’
‘Just to the city,’ said Kitt immediately. ‘I had a meeting with an alchemist, and I thought Oriane might like to see Aubrille for the first time.’
Oriane’s eyes flicked towards him. He was framing their city visit as his idea, and not hers or Andala’s. She wasn’t sure why.
‘You did not inform me,’ Tomas said, turning to Kitt.
Kitt sounded slightly puzzled as he replied, ‘I did not know I needed to.’
It seemed the wrong thing to say. Tomas closed his eyes, and an unpleasant, humourless smile spread across his face. ‘You did not know you needed to,’ he repeated, two fingers at his temple as if he nursed a headache. ‘You did not think it the least bit wise to give me notice of your plans to remove the skylark from the palace? To take her into the city, where any crook or common fool might see her and get ideas?’
To Oriane’s surprise, Kitt laughed at this. ‘They don’t know who she is, Tomas,’ he said. ‘She was in no—’
Tomas’s eyes flew open. ‘I am your king, and you will address me as such.’
Kitt fell silent.
‘What guarantee have you that they do not know?’ the king barked. ‘How could you possibly be sure that word has not spread, the way word so often tends to do? How in the skies can you be certain that nobody spotted her for what she is?’
‘I-I apologise, my king,’ Kitt murmured. His fists, Oriane saw, were clenched very tightly at his sides. ‘You are right. It was unwise of me. But I confess I did not know you had planned to keep her like a secret—’
‘What do you mean, you didn’t know? Of course you knew! Why else would I not have invited the whole world to see her yet? Why else93would she still be under lock and key, with only a scant handful of people allowed to watch her every morning? I have a plan, Kittrick, and your foolhardiness might well have blown it all to hell!’
Oriane stood frozen through his outburst. If she were not so shocked, she might have been angry. This washerhe was speaking about – her, Oriane, a person, not just the skylark, not just a bird he kept like a pet or a possession.Aplan– what was his plan for her?
Her mind churned furiously, catching on another phrase the king had spoken, one that sparked her shock into something more like fear:under lock and key.
Kitt had opened his mouth to respond, but Tomas cut him off with a wave. ‘Leave,’ he ordered, no longer looking at either of them. ‘Take the skylark to her room, Kittrick. She stays there until morning.’
Although the hint of fear kept Oriane’s feet glued to the ground, some self-protective instinct kicked in. ‘My king,’ she blurted, before she could lose the nerve to demand some kind of explanation.
But as if he had not heard her, Tomas rose from his throne and stormed away, leaving her and Kitt alone.
They moved in silence towards her chambers. The scant servants they passed cast furtive glances their way. Everyone knew of the king’s displeasure, it seemed. Everyone knew it concerned her. She was relieved when they reached the sanctuary of her room, but as Kitt opened the door for her, she paused, a whisper of suspicion bringing her up short.
