Page 32 of Between Smoke and Shadow

My stomach twists thinking about it, and I force the visual from my head. Luckily, any traces of the Flood Celebration are gone, making it easier to pretend it never happened at all. The tables and decor have been removed; the nightwater stains have been scrubbed clean. Now, there’s only this solitary table for me and Viana, and a small area for serving trays.

As Viana talks endlessly, I study the skyline. The sun hangs low over the mountains, casting orange and red hues over the flooding water. The Wilds are likely sitting in a foot of water by now, and I can’t help wondering if Ksana Renat got her increase of magic. Probably not. The Wilds will be flooded by season’s end, and people will go hungry thanks to the damage.

“I just feel so much like a princess already,” Viana is saying.

I try to focus on her as she admires her new dress. It’s a long green gown, similar to any other elite dress, except for its streaks of red. Part of Savoan tradition, scarlet will be added to all of Viana’s clothing up until the day we’re married. Only then will her clothes be solidly red like mine.

“Thank you very much,” she says. She fusses with the skirt, smiling up at me, almost shyly. She must know I see through the act, but she’s giving it her all.

I nod for a reply. I had nothing to do with that dress, but I doubt the Committee would mind me taking credit.

The door to the stairwell opens, and a line of servants enter the courtyard. Three men waltz across the black stone, carrying overloaded trays of food. They spread their dishes over the nearby table, delicious scents of meat and vegetables filling the damp air.

I twist my stein between my fingers. Our table is intentionally small, I think. A round, satin-covered table with barely enough room for two plates and steins. Cramped enough it’s impossible to escape Viana’s reach.

One of the servants hurries to offer us a selection of soups. Viana chooses a thick gray option that smells a bit like musty dirt. I’m still deciding when the stairwell door opens again. Rune hurries into the courtyard, wearing her dark yellow mask and oversized coverall. She’s barefoot though, her toes turning pink from the dramatic drop in temperature that comes with Flood Season.

She centers herself behind Viana, chin low and eyes anywhere but me. Viana turns toward her servant, and I realize I’ve been staring a moment too long.

“Come closer, wench,” she croons. Her voice almost sounds kind, and I’d feel better, if it weren’t clearly fake. “You may stand near the heat.”

Viana returns her attention to me, smiling like she’s hoping for a treat. I keep my eyes on her, forcing myself to smile back. Rune silently moves toward us, stopping when she’s tucked in front of the nearest heater. She keeps her hands folded at her waist but slowly leans into the warmth.

“The poor thing misplaced its shoes,” Viana says, following my gaze once again. She touches my hand, pausing until I force my attention back to her. “Don’t worry, I will arrange for new ones. And hopefully it’s learned its lesson. Right, wench?”

“Yes, my lady,” Rune says. Her voice is steady, unaffected, and I’m desperate to know how someone manages that. Few people call servants “it”, as if they’re an entirely different species. The Architect and Malek both do, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise. Still, I have to grind my jaw to keep from saying anything.

Maybe Ishouldsay something.

“Good,” Viana says. She holds both of my hands between hers, squeezing softly. She’s damn-near grinning at her show of kindness.

I glance once more at Rune, who remains as stone-faced as ever, before changing the subject. I’m going to come unglued if I don’t. So I ask Viana about herself and her family and her desires.

She tells me she’s an only child. That she hates Blizzard Season the most. That she dreams of meeting the Architect, face-to-face, someday. She says her mother died cycles ago, and that her father is the only family she has left. She doesn’t mind—her small family is far preferable to Saskia’s ever-growing one of nine children. She’s quick to add that she’d happily bear twenty children, if that’s what I wanted.

She tells me she only desires to do what is best for Savoa and for me. But a lovely parade would be nice, as would a hand-crafted crown and a magicked carriage for us to tour Savoa with our children and their pets.

Viana asks me questions too, all surface-level and easy. I’ve been asked them enough during events that I don’t have to think about the answers.

“Do you like the City of Mirrors?” she asks. She’s slicing her cake into symmetrical pieces, smaller and smaller, putting more time between each bite. Her smile is eager, like she’s got enough questions to drag this date well into the morning.

“I’ve only been a few times,” I say. My cake is gone, the plate cleared fifteen minutes ago. “I imagine it’s in rough shape at the moment.”

The City of Mirrors isalwaysin rough shape, but especially after Earthquake Season. Unlike the Tower, the buildings there don’t have enough magic to protect them. Hundreds of structures collapse by the end of the season, and the residents have no choice but to build from the ground up during Flood Season. In the midst of heavy rain, the commoners put their city back together, using the same materials that failed them in the first place.

It’s one of the few sectors Idon’tlike to visit. It’s a place of squalor and filth, and I feel like a monster any time I’m in it.

“Have you ever been with Malek?” Viana asks. There’s a subtle edge to her voice, just prominent enough that I catch it. She isn’t asking if I’ve visited the City of Mirrors with my brother. She’s asking if I’vehuntedthere with him.

A violent shudder pinches the back of my neck, and without meaning to, I look at Rune and the other servants. None of them look at us, but Rune’s mouth twitches. I’m sure I don’t imagine it.

“No,” I say, voice sharp. I force myself to look back at Viana. “No, Tora and I don’t do that. We’ve no interest in Malek’s habits.”

“Of course, my prince,” Viana says. She’s nodding, trying to act relieved, but I’m not fooled.

She didn’t fear I was a monster.

ShehopedI was one.

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