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Oriane opened her mouth – to say what, she did not know – but then a voice rang out beyond the door, rising above the hum of the crowd and calling for its attention. The noise of the revellers fell to hushed murmurs. Then King Tomas began to speak, sounding more like a king than Oriane had ever heard him.
‘Good people of Cielore.’ A brief wave of sound from the crowd, rising in acknowledgement then falling back to silence. ‘I welcome you all to this celebration of the aestival solstice. You are familiar with this day of feasting and revelry, of course, as it has been held every year since the time of my forebears. But this year, Aubrille plays host to the most honoured guest to have ever graced these halls.’
A ripple of excitement, a chorus of speculative murmurs. Oriane fought the urge to flee.155
‘You have heard, no doubt, of the legend of the skylark – a goddess who takes the form of a bird and a woman by turns, and who calls each new day forth with the power of her song. A legend, a myth: for decades, forcenturiespast, that is all the skylark has been. But if I were to tell you otherwise … If I were to tell you that the skylark herself walks among us, here, in Aubrille …’
The murmurs were growing louder, louder, a swarm of insects buzzing beyond the door.
‘I think it’s time,’ Andala whispered. Sure enough, the door swung inwards. The nervous face of a page peeked around it. His wide eyes went from Oriane to Andala, and he nodded.
Oriane could not move. She felt fixed to the spot, hoping against hope that the floor would somehow open up and swallow her, drag her down below—
A gentle hand came to rest at her back. Andala guided her through the door. ‘I’ll find you soon,’ she whispered, and then she was gone, leaving Oriane alone with the page.
The doorway was concealed by enormous swathes of blue fabric. The page cleared his throat, and the hangings were drawn back to reveal the king, a shining crown upon his red-gold hair, standing before the crowd with his hand outstretched to Oriane. Before she could obey her body, which was telling her to turn away, to run, Tomas had seized her hand and pulled her forward, out of the shadowed alcove and into full display.
After the dim passageway, the ballroom was dazzling. The whole room was aglow with light. Candles, lanterns, chandeliers – so much light that it looked like daytime, despite the hour being after midnight. The brightness hurt Oriane’s eyes, but better that than to focus on the people who stood before her. There were so many of them. So many156hundreds of faces and dresses and glinting wine goblets. So many pairs of eyes trained on her.
The king was saying something, introducing her, showing her off to the crowd, but she could not hear the words. It was another voice she focused on, one that sounded inside her head. It was her own voice, the new one she’d used with the king the other day, and she could not stop it from speaking, its words dripping with wrath.
Wasn’tthiswhatyouwanted?Wasn’tthiswhyyoucameallthisway?Allthesepeople.Youwantedtoseethem,beamongthem,havethemturntheirfacesuptowardsyouasifyouwerethesunitself.Well,hereyouare.Theirgoddess. Their light. Father would be proud – would be, if he could be, if he weren’t a pile of burnt-up bones—
Oriane staggered. Tomas looked sidelong at her. He was still grasping her hand, and his grip tightened, but his kingly smile never faded. He continued to speak to the crowd, his voice a ringing blur in Oriane’s ears. She caught the words ‘sunrise’ and ‘song’ and ‘until then’. And then an explosion of cheers and calls and clapping.
To Oriane’s dismay, the empty space that had been left respectfully between the king and his subjects now closed up as several of them swarmed towards her. They kept calling her ‘Lady Lark’, smiling, pressing hands to their chests as they addressed her. They were looking at her as if they knew her. As if theyreveredher.
Wasn’tthiswhatyouwanted?Well,hereyouare—
‘A little space for the lady, if you please,’ Tomas said genially. His guests acquiesced, slowly drifting away in a chorus of praise and wonder. But they still stared openly, jostling past one another for a better glimpse at the skylark.
‘Are you all right?’ Tomas murmured.
Oriane turned to him. Why should he care if she was all right? She was here, wasn’t she? Right where she was supposed to be?157But there was true concern in his pale eyes, drowned out though it was by the reflection of light off his crown.
‘I need something to drink,’ she choked out, because she didn’t know what else to say.
Tomas snapped his fingers; when the page magically reappeared, the king pointed towards a long table by the wall, where a veritable feast had been laid out. In another instant, Oriane had a goblet in her hand. It wasn’t the same stuff Andala had given her – this was just wine – but she drank it, grateful for anything that might dull the panic she was barely keeping at bay.
‘Oriane,’ Tomas began. She could not look at him; she focused instead on the crowd, a maelstrom of colour in a sea of light. ‘I need you to know, Oriane, how sorry I am about … about your father.’
Oriane gripped her goblet tighter, lifted it to her lips again. A band of musicians had started to play. Their instruments were very loud.
‘I know what it is … to lose a parent. To losebothparents.’
People were starting to dance. They looked at Oriane as they whirled past, their eyes always returning to her, even as they spun and swirled.
‘It pains me that I … that things came to what they did. But you must understand that I sought you out for your own good. Foreverybody’sgood. Your power, Oriane – it is so valuable.’
Her power? What power was that? If she really had power,truepower, would she not use it here, now, to … to what? To punish Tomas for what he had done? To punish his guards for following his orders?
Perhaps that was all true power was – a means of punishment.
Oriane drank more wine.
‘… believe in you, Oriane – as the skylark, you can do more than even you have ever …’158
Whatever it was he was talking about, Tomas sounded impassioned, genuine, earnest. Somehow, that made it worse. She could not listen to him anymore.
