Page 29 of Skysong

‘Do you think there’s something a little … unusual about Hana’s illness?’ Oriane asked Andala one morning, as Andala helped her change upon her return from the princess’s chambers.

Andala thought on this. She knew little about the princess and her supposed poor health, apart from the rumours murmured among the palace staff from time to time. What shedidfind unusual was Oriane’s new role as her companion, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked eventually.

‘Well …’ In the mirror before them, Oriane’s expression grew puzzled. ‘I don’t know. I enjoy her company, very much. She doesn’t say a lot, but when she does, she’s so quick and so funny. She does notseemunwell, for the most part. Tired sometimes, perhaps, and yesterday when I went to visit with her as usual, her maid said she had returned to bed and shouldn’t be disturbed.’

‘Perhaps … it comes and goes,’ Andala ventured. ‘She might have some good days and some bad.’ Her own condition was like that; sometimes the ice in her blood thawed enough that she barely noticed it, and other times it was like needles threading through her very nerves.

Oriane turned around once Andala had finished buttoning her dress, her pretty face brightening again. ‘You’re right. She was better102today, back to normal. Perhaps she is on the mend, with more good days to come.’

Andala said nothing, merely gave a noncommittal nod. She sometimes envied Oriane that brightness, that natural optimism. Other times she was tempted to sneer at it – to consider the skylark a caricature rather than a real person, her disposition so closely reflecting her power with its sanguine, sunny radiance. But that was just Andala’s bitterness, rearing its ugly head. She did not sneer, because despite herself, she could hold no grudge against Oriane for being who she was.

The number of guests invited to observe Oriane’s performances had grown. Andala was tucked away behind them the next morning, watching from the shadows. She made a mental note to mention the increase to Kitt, ask him what he thought it meant. He’d learned very little when he’d spoken to Tomas after their city outing. The king had been contrite about his outburst, assuring Kitt there was nothing to worry about. Kitt seemed to believe him, but Andala was not so easily satisfied.

‘Andala, is it not?’

She almost jumped in shock at the low voice murmuring in her ear. Tearing her eyes from Oriane’s dipping and wheeling form, she found the king’s seneschal beside her. Terault was peering at her with that keen, calm look she’d so often seen directed at others. It had never been trained on her before. Something about it made her feel uneasy, her skin crawling beneath his scrutiny.

‘Yes,’ she replied, collecting herself after a beat. ‘May I be of assistance, Lord Terault?’103

‘I do hope so,’ he answered smoothly. ‘I understand you have been serving as the skylark’s personal attendant?’

Andala nodded. The seneschal said nothing further, merely considered her. At the front of the room, Oriane’s song came to an end and a burst of applause broke out.

‘Is there something I have failed to attend to in my duties, my lord?’ Andala asked eventually.

Terault shook his head. ‘Not at all. But there is an additional duty His Majesty has asked me to entrust to you.’

Andala nodded stiffly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Oriane resume her human form, golden gown luminous in the morning light.

‘There was an … incident, in recent days, in which the skylark’s safety was endangered,’ Terault continued. ‘She left the security of the palace, which posed much too great a risk. We cannot let this happen again. As our guest, she is under our protection, you understand.’

Andala’s stomach swooped, but she held tight to her composure. Yes, she understood – understood that Terault knew she had been involved in thatincident, even without him saying so. He was watching her carefully, ignoring the commotion from the crowd as they showered Oriane with adulation.

‘I understand perfectly, my lord,’ Andala replied. ‘What is it the king would have me do?’

‘Watch her,’ Terault instructed. ‘Stay close to her side. Be sure she does not stray, or fall into the wrong hands.’

Andala could have laughed in his face.Fallintothewronghands–more and more, it seemed Oriane had already done that.

And who put her there?she reminded herself.Who put her there, and why?

She shoved aside the thought, and any feeling that came with it.104

‘Of course, Lord Terault,’ she said aloud. She met the seneschal’s eyes as, behind him, Oriane glowed. ‘I will do as the king commands.’

That evening, Andala waited in Oriane’s chambers as instructed. The skylark was at a dinner with the king and his retinue and guests, and Kitt would be escorting her back to her rooms when they were done.

While Oriane was out, and Andala’s new shadowing duties were suspended, she used her time wisely. Since her meeting with the seneschal that morning, she’d had a suspicion about something, and despite herself – despite knowing that she should keep her head down and her walls up, that she shouldn’t get in deeper than she already had – she had gone to seek out confirmation.

She found it.

But she had not yet decided whether to share it with Oriane.

Andala was pacing before the chamber doors, a headache building at her temples, her mind turning circles and tripping over itself, when laughter sounded from the corridor outside. The sound was joyous, musical. She had learned the timbre of Oriane’s laugh in recent days, but this was different – freer, somehow.

As she opened the door, Oriane almost fell through it, straightening herself at the last second. Her eyes were star-bright, merry. Her deep chestnut curls had half come down from where Andala had pinned them earlier. She looked happy.

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