Page 6 of Rite of Blood and Secrets

"I'm serious, Beatrice. Never say that we're nobodies again, do you understand? Here, you're Lady Beatrice."

"But why do they believe I'm highborn? What have you done?" No one is going to believe him while we're dressed like this. Our clothes are better than the ones we usually wear, but they're not going to let us pass as highborn.

"You'll find out soon enough," he mutters ominously.

I twist my fingers through Pip's rope, feeling a little steadier from the way the hemp feels between them. The slight burn of the rough fibres against my skin helps centre me, and I can feel as if I can think clearly.

Bastian doesn't seem to have any such concerns about the situation and strides forward, throwing open the doors and revealing the ball within.

I suck in a breath as I take in the room in front of me. Opulent doesn't even cover it. The light from dozens of mounted candles flickers through the air, illuminating a huge ballroom. Down each side are tables laden with food, all of it looking as if it's fit to feast a king with.

And then there are the people. While my dress is finer than anything else I own, I can tell it has nothing on the fabrics the people in this room are wearing. They even outshine the best fabrics the dressmaker in town has. The gowns are intricate with full skirts of many colours, while the suits are just as finally made, with rich cravats and crisp white shirts.

Everything looks as if it's straight out of a dream, and I don't fully understand how I'm walking into it.

Or why these people think I'm a lady when I'm well aware that I'm not.

Pip stays close to my heels, not venturing out to investigate anything around us. I'm glad no one has insisted on taking her away from me, though a quick look around the room reassures me they're not going to change their minds. Several other dogs seem to be accompanying their owners in the room. I'm not alone in wanting canine companionship tonight.

A servant comes forward with two golden goblets on a tray. "Courtesy of your host," he says to me.

Bastian reaches out and takes one of the goblets, indicating for me to do the same.

"Thank you," I say to the server. I look down into the cup, unsurprised to discover that it's some kind of wine.

"Drink up," Bastian says, already downing his cup before setting it back on the tray.

I hesitate, but he gestures for me to hurry up. I don't particularly want to drink it all, but I can see from Bastian's face that he's not going to stop until I do.

I raise the goblet to my lips and take a sip. The wine is surprisingly sweet, and goes down easier than I think it will. I was expecting something like the homemade wine that Da used to make which was always bitter and never tasted particularly pleasant to me.

It's a surprise when I discover that I've drunk it all, and I place the goblet sheepishly back on the tray, hoping the servant doesn't think it was unladylike of me to act in such a way. He doesn't seem to have much of a response, and disappears back from where he came.

Bastian offers me his arm, and I slip mine through his. It's odd to be so formal, and I'm not really sure how I should be acting, especially with so many strangers in the room. I'm not sure precisely what is happening here to celebrate the Golden Moon, but everyone seems to be having a good time.

Pip trots along beside me, seeming a little more at ease, though I can still tell that she's nervous. There's a hesitance to the way she's moving that isn't normally there and I hate to see her like this. It's not like the boisterous dog I know and love. Hopefully, once we're back home, things will be better.

Except that Bastian is convinced that we won't be going home.

I look at my twin brother from the corner of my eye and try to work out what's going through his head. His honey-brown curls match mine, but are shorter, making him appear boyish, but the set of his jaw undoes all of that. He looks determined, though I'm not sure about what. I wish he'd talk to me. We used to tell each other everything when we were children, but everything changed a few years ago. Or maybe it was before that. When Da died. It's like he discovered something about himself that he didn't feel like he could share with me.

"What are we supposed to do?" I whisper to him.

"Mingle," he responds. "Talk to people."

"About what?"

"Whatever they want to talk about, Beatrice," he says, his exasperation coming through his voice. "This is a chance for us to better ourselves, don't ruin it for us."

"I'm not trying to," I respond. "I just don't understand what's happening."

"You'll know soon enough. I wish that girl had found us Lord Fallmartin already," he mutters.

"Who even is he?"

"It doesn't matter," Bastian says.

I'm about to argue with him when the doors we were originally shown to open and a group of people are ushered inside. Most of them are wearing simple party clothes, dresses with bell skirts and smart shirts with black ties. Even if I didn't recognise some of them, I'd guess these were people from town and not more of the affluent guests who are dotted around the room making small talk.

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