Page 119 of A Dagger in the Ivy

I hold a finger to my lips as I approach her. “I’m sorry I took so long.” I close the distance and embrace her, thankful that she’s all right. After squeezing her tightly, I back up and search her eyes. “Was everything all right? Did anyone come looking for me?”

“Someone opened the door in the middle of the night, but I wasunder your covers with my face turned away. No one lit a candle, so I don’t think they noticed that it wasn’t you.”

I squeeze her hands. “Thank the gods.”

“And this morning, Indira was asking for you, but I lied and told her you’d gone for a walk and would return later. She told me to tell you that you are expected at dinner this evening. The queen insists you attend because she has an announcement.” She shakes her head. “Where did you go? I was afraid you’d been caught and something sinister had happened to you.”

Nadya’s eyes search mine, her brows pulled together. I can see she’s ready to hear whatever burden I’m carrying, but the thought of dragging her into this makes my stomach twist. If I tell her, she’ll be on edge, and I need her to stay calm, to play her part flawlessly. But keeping her in the dark feels wrong, a betrayal of the trust we’ve built. She deserves the truth, and I owe it to her to be honest, no matter the risk. After everything, I can’t leave her wondering or guessing—I have to let her in.

“I’m going to tell you everything, but you’re going to want to sit down.”

I’m refreshed after my bath, but my mind is still swirling. Nadya took the news about Torbin’s involvement with the Shadow Tsar with the shock I expected, but she quickly added that looking back, his escalating bouts of temper were clear warning signs. And I agreed. Somehow, her resolve shone through, telling me that whatever I decide, she’s on my side.

Then I told her about Dante and me last night, and she nearly fell off the bed.

It’s dinnertime, and Sir Holden escorts me to the grand dining hall. In an effort to spare Nadya from any danger that might occur, I told her to stay in her room and that I would tell the royals that she wasn’t feeling well.

When I arrive, the dining hall is alive with the murmurs of courtiers and the clink of silverware against the fine flatware. A tapestry of richcolors and elaborate decorations adorns the walls, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me.

The warm glow of flickering candlelight bathes the opulent embroideries that adorn the walls. The scent of freshly cooked delicacies wafts through the air, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation as the royal family and their guests gather around the ornate table.

As I step closer to the table, my eyes are immediately drawn to Torbin. He stands near his mother’s side, his posture rigid, the dark gleam in his eyes betraying the false warmth in his smile. Our gazes lock for a moment—his filled with unspoken threats, mine carefully guarded. I force a smile to him for those watching us, a shallow gesture, as I nod in his direction, masking the unease churning within me.

The king is already seated, his fingers drumming lightly on the table as he speaks with two lords sitting at the table. His gaze sweeps over me, and for a brief moment, I catch the flicker of suspicion there. He nods in acknowledgment, with the hint of a cold, calculating look that makes my skin crawl. I lower my eyes in a show of respect, even as my thoughts race with the knowledge of the messenger I just sent away. I cannot let him see my fear.

The queen sits beside him, regal in her composure, yet her face is pale, and her eyes cast on a few ladies of the court. But every once in a while, her gaze drops, focusing instead on the table settings as if they hold some great secret. Her fingers trace the edge of her wineglass, trembling slightly. It’s a subtle movement, but one I notice.

As I make my way to my seat, a few nobles murmur their greetings, and I respond in kind, my voice steady, betraying none of the tension that coils within me. Every step feels heavy, the distance to my chair far greater than it should be. When I finally reach it, I take a slow, measured breath before sitting down, the mask of composure firmly in place.

I have to force myself to not recoil from Torbin as he takes his seat. Being in the same room with him fills me with an anxious rage, but sitting within reach of him puts me on edge. My dagger is strapped to my thigh, but I can’t see a situation in this setting where using it could end well.

The king eyes me as I straighten in my chair, and I have to wonder if he suspects what I’ve done. Jasper must be long gone by now, and no one has accused me of anything, so I can only hope that my efforts to deliver the message have gone undetected.

“I’ve been very busy organizing the engagement celebration,” the queen says, continuing the discussion with the guests at the table. “It will be a brilliant spectacle. The only thing bigger than this event will be the actual wedding, which will of course take place earlier than expected—in one month’s time.”

One month? I didn’t expect that she would move up the date. That’s all the time I have left to come up with a plan to turn everything around, to convince the king of Torbin’s true intentions and somehow get the regiment to successfully infiltrate the tsardom of Dulcamar.

Of course, that most likely means war. The tsar has a growing army of fierce creatures I’m not sure the regiment is ready to take down. We need more soldiers, and without the king’s compliance, we could very well be outnumbered.

The queen’s animated voice fills the air, her excitement palpable as she regales us with details of the extravagant affair she has meticulously planned.

“There are still some things I must finalize for the wedding, of course.” The queen beams, raising her wineglass as she speaks. “We simply must have the finest musicians from Alphemra. And the most exquisite cake adorned with sugared roses in every shade imaginable. Oh, and let’s not forget the fireworks display! It must rival even the grandest spectacles of the past.”

I nod along politely, my back straight, my expression carefully composed, but inside, my mind races with worry. Time is running out.

The queen’s enthusiasm is almost infectious as she goes on about the wedding, about how the most prominent members of the realm are invited, how the celebration will last for days. Beneath the façade of excitement, I notice that she avoids looking directly at the king. She keeps her focus on me and Torbin. Even when he speaks, she averts her gaze.

I finally see through her. She longs for the castle to be filled with celebrations and festivals, to be surrounded by people, not for the joy of it, but to avoid being alone with the king. She is as much a prisoner here as I am, bound by the weight of the crown and the king’s oppressive gaze.

Is this my fate as well? Am I going to be forced into union with a monster with whom I must share a life, a tyrant whom I can’t even look in the eye?

“I commend your attention to detail,” the king says to his wife. “But let us not forget the true purpose of this celebration: to honor the union between our beloved son Torbin and the Princess Celeste, and what that union stands for.”

I swallow hard, understanding the true meaning of the king’s words. They settle upon my shoulders like a leaden shroud. Despite the queen’s attempts to distract us with talk of festivities and merriment, I can feel the suffocating grip of reality closing in around me, reminding me of the grim fate that awaits me in the days to come.

“Well, of course,” the queen says, smiling at Torbin. “That’s the very reason the celebration must be so grand. It’s not every day a son takes a bride.”

“That’s true, Mother.” Torbin grabs my hand under the ruse he’s being affectionate, when in fact his fingers are clenching mine like a vise. “I believe this will the beginning of a reign that will fascinate all of Terre Ferique for decades to come.”

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