Page 43 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“I can leave as soon as Grayson arrives. It’s you I feel sorry for.”

“What do you mean?” A sinking feeling fills my stomach.

“You’re the shiny new plaything. I’ve been hearing rumours about you.” His smile widens as he sees my expression, laughing at my discomfort at the prospect of people talking about me. “I think Grayson is going to have to share you with othersmore. The fact you disappear for days without an appearance is starting to become noticed.”

I still. This is more serious than a couple of rumours. If people are noticing that I’m not about, they might start to ask questions and go hunting for answers, which we can’t afford for them to discover. Wilson is glancing around us, his attention caught on someone else on the other side of the room rather than my internal panic. Grabbing his hand, he looks back at me, frowning at my severe expression and realising something’s upset me.

“Does Grayson know?”

“Yes, but—”

A loud banging causes the room to fall silent, the music stopping as everyone turns to the archway. The hall is full of well-dressed people now, and I’m sure that there can’t be many more arriving.

“Announcing, the King and Queen of Arhaven.”

Dropping into a curtsy, I feel Wilson bowing next to me, silently pleased that I didn’t need to be prompted this time. Perhaps Icando this after all. Rising, I see the king and queen walking towards their thrones, holding hands as the crowd parts for them. “Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Rhydian, Prince Michael, and Prince Jacob.”

“The king didn’t attend the last ball,” I whisper to Wilson, as we watch the finely dressed royals take their thrones, the princes following closely behind.

“No, neither him nor the queen usually attend these things. It’s only because Rhydian is back that he’s here. He’ll stay for an hour before finding a young lady and then invite her back to his quarters. Oh…” He stops as he sees my wide eyes, realising he’s said too much. Lifting his glass to his lips, he throws back the rest of his drink before cursing under his breath. “I didn’t say that.”

“The king is sleeping with one of the ladies?”

He snorts, and I’m pretty sure I hear him mutter, “One of,” before raising his gaze to mine. “I said too much. I had a drink before I came to pick you up and it’s loosened my tongue,” he says with a sigh. “Please don’t say anything.”

“Of course I won’t.”

The atmosphere in the room changes, and as I glance around I see everyone is facing the arched doorway once again. Standing there, wearing their leathers and furs, are the men from the mountain tribes. The steward by the door appears anxious as he looks over them, and after a brief conversation with the men, he finally clears his throat.

“The men and women from the mountain tribes,” he announces loudly, but he needn’t shout however, as the room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone watches the tribesman, but I turn my attention to the royals. The king and Rhydian are watching with barely concealed disgust. Michael just looks bored, his roaming gaze on the ladies mingling nearest his throne. Jacob is watching the advancing folk with interest, nodding his head to the leader as they come to stand in front of the thrones, dipping their heads once in acknowledgement before turning away and breaking off into groups.

The person whose reaction is the most interesting is the queen’s, and I remember the story Jacob told me in the courtyard—the queen had once been married to one of the mountain people. She’s leaning forward in her throne, her eyes wide as she skims her gaze over them. She tries to hide it, but I see the mix of excitement and pain that having these people here is causing her, and I’m not the only one. The king places a hand on her arm and whispers something to her that has her back stiffening and her face tightening. Nodding once, she pulls her arm from his grip and stands up before storming from the room.

If anyone thought her behaviour odd, no one comments on it, and as the musicians start playing again, couples gravitate to the centre of the hall and begin dancing.

“Mage Wilson, I see they let you out to terrorise us all again.” Anger fills me from the insult aimed at my friend, but Wilson just grins as we turn to face the familiar woman.

“Ah, Lady Aileen, I had hoped to get through most of the ball before you sought me out, you hateful wench.”

I stand awkwardly between the two as they glare at each other. Wilson’s grinning like the cat who’s got the cream, so I don’t think he’s offended by her comment, and just as I’m about to step in they begin laughing. Throwing his arm around her, he pulls her into his embrace before turning that grin on me, but I don’t miss the adoring look she shoots Wilson.

“Clarissa, have you had the honour to be introduced to this pitiful excuse of a lady?”

I look between the two of them again, fairly sure they are joking based on the grins on both their faces, but I have no idea how to answer. I’m also pretty sure that Wilson is completely oblivious to the fact that Aileen is in love with him.

“Oh, have pity on the girl, Wilson. She looks like she’s about to implode.” Aileen grins, strands of her wild, curly red hair falling out of her updo. “We have met before, at the ceremony.”

“Oh yes, I always forget you’re still a baby,” he says as he frowns down at her with mock disapproval.

“So you two know each other?” This much is obvious, but I don’t know how to politely ask about their history, especially as they are throwing insults left, right, and centre. Thankfully, Wilson takes pity on me.

“We grew up together. Aileen’s father came here for diplomatic work and brought this brat with him. I saw her threatening to beat up one of the spoiled children from thehouses if they didn’t share their toy, and I knew we were going to be friends.”

“He adopted me, and seeing as we were both outsiders, we decided to stick together,” she explains, turning to the buffet table behind us and filling up a plate with sweets and pastries. They start playfully bickering once again and I study them. They’re easy around each other, and Wilson is relaxed and happy in a way I only see when we’re alone and away from the prying eyes of the nobles.

I like her, I realise, a faint smile gracing my lips as I watch them. She’s always seemed different to the other ladies, having views on the lower classes that others don’t share, not to mention she’s friends with Wilson.

I’m glad he’s got someone here other than me, in case…I pause at the thought. In case of what? That I wouldn’t be here. If I was killed by the beatings from the guards, or it’s discovered who I am, or a whole host of other possibilities…I just have to hope that if anything does happen to me, he’s not involved in any way. The thought of him getting hurt because of me makes me shudder.

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