Page 16 of Tides of Shadows

Their looks were keen as knives, ready to cut me to ribbons. I cared little for it. Another matter troubled me, for I knew no one here. Most of the young heirs came often to White City, to learn manners, governance, and the ways of the court. My Family had neither time nor coin for such polish. We lived upon the islands, far from the great world, and in these last few years grew even more set apart.

I judged a goblet of wine was the best company I could find. I went to the table, took a cup of the ruby draught, and withdrew into the shadow, leaning my back to a cool marble column. Couples turned upon the floor while I stood aside and watched.

Cassandra, of course, held the very center of the attention. Tall, stately, clad in gray, pricked with stones. Diamond tiara burning upon her head beneath the lantern light. A snow queen, speaking with every lord as though each were bound to her will. How many Elementars she wore I couldn’t say, I had long since lost the count.

Aidenar, too, could not pass unnoticed. The ladies all but drooled over him. He stood as if cut from a fairytale: pale blond hair perfectly arranged, clean shaved face, a jaw as if carved in marble, a faultless smile. The perfect prince, the perfect Cavareth. And I knew that within the fine casing lay only vanity and rot.

I let my gaze roam over the other nobles, seeking to mark who spoke with whom and what alliances hid beneath their courtesy. I went for more wine, and fate, it seemed, set me suddenly face to face with Aidenar Cavareth.

“Lady Veymaris.” The smile leapt to his face so quickly I wondered what game he played. “You look bored with us.”

Before I could answer, Velena edged between us like a cat claiming its ground.

“My Lord Cavareth!” Her voice dripped with sugared delight. “All the court speaks of the Regency’s elegance this eve.” She laid a hand upon his shoulder, then glanced at me. “Oh, Nerissa. Simple lady, simple gown, I see. I am not interrupting, am I?”

My fingers tightened upon my goblet.

“Not in the least,” I said. My eyes met Aidenar’s for the briefest breath, then I turned into the crowd. Behind me I heard only Velena’s bright prattle: “Lady Cassandra would be delighted if we danced again…”

I walked on at an even pace, pressing my ire beneath my ribs, when a voice at my side drew me from my thoughts.

“Lady Veymaris.” A young man bowed. “Magnus Dorthal. Might I have this dance?”

It startled me so that I forgot to breathe for a heartbeat. No one had shown the least interest in me all evening. He was the same noble who had walked with the Dorthals during the Gathering. The one who had met my eyes then.

I nodded. I didn’t want to seem too arrogant, and besides, the wine had already softened my stubbornness somewhat.

Magnus led tolerably well. His steps were sure, and mine were trained enough that I didn’t make a fool of myself. He was handsome in the common fashion, with chestnut hair falling in easy waves. His shirt was open at the neck, and an enormous emerald medallion glinted upon his chest. He also had the emerald ring, of no smaller size, on his finger. Maybe they actually grew emeralds like potatoes.

“You look lovely in that… simple gown,” he remarked during one turn.

I couldn’t tell whether it was praise, or a reminder that I was plainer than the rest. I raised a brow and kept my peace.

“You don’t visit White City often, I think,” he added after a pause. “I have never seen you before.”

“True,” I admitted. “I was last here as a child. And you?”

“I spent part of my youth here. Now I aid my father in tending our lands.” He smiled faintly.

“My father sent me here on our business. Now it is my turn to dwell a while in White City.”

“So I heard. My father says the Family Veymaris has seldom come to the capital of late. I hope your presence will mend that.”

“There is much work yet,” I said, letting a small, practiced smile answer for me.

We spoke then of light matters. The music faded, and still we stood upon the floor.

“Perhaps we might walk,” Magnus said, pleased with himself. “It is rather crowded here.”

Before I weighed the invite, his hand closed on mine, and he led me along the path toward the hedges. I let him guide me, almost by reflex. I would not make a scene before all, and the wine had softened my caution enough that I did not at once think it was foolish.

In passing he caught up a bottle of wine from the table and drank long, as though he were not heir to one of the Ten Families but some dockside sailor. We went between the shrubs, farther from the ball, through the park that ringed the palace. He spoke of his lands, the harvest, the emerald mines, and his father’s accounts. I listened, setting each word in my memory. Perhaps there was profit to be found in it.

We halted by a marble fountain where water slid from stone figures in the glow of lanterns. The figures were four river nymphs pouring water from their vases, half naked, very erotic but in a romantic way. The whole garden was filled with white flowers, mostly roses. Everything was perfectly trimmed here. Everything looked superficial, unnatural.

“These grounds are beautiful,” he said.

“They are,” I answered, keeping my tone even.