Page 60 of A Dance of Shadows

The picture fades. I find myself blinking, a sense of certainty welling up inside me.

Bastien told me from the start—Coteans value experimentation and innovation. But that comes not just from the information and technology obtained from beyond their borders but what Cotean minds can imagine doing with it.

I might be able to create a concoction that speaks to such a desire.

The possibilities dart giddily through my own head, but I haven’t forgotten my distant companions on this excursion. I pause after climbing into my carriage, and Lorenzo’s voice reaches me again.

“Ask to return along Cinderoak Road. The driver should know the way.”

I lean toward the window to convey the instructions to the driver. With a flick of the reins, he sends the horses trotting on their way.

In a matter of minutes, the buildings stretch taller and straighter on either side of the road. Civilians in simple but tidy clothes are strolling the streets. Few of them give the carriage more than a glance, with no idea who’s riding inside.

The princes must be following my route, because Lorenzo speaks just as we come up on a large building of silver and marble beyond a courtyard where several of the stone tiles shimmer.

“Bastien says you’re about to pass the School of Entwined Magics. Clerics and devouts dedicated to all different godlen collaborate there to help students determine ways their gifts can work together to produce greater effects.”

That’s fascinating. Normally schools belong to one or another specific temple.

I watch a couple of students near the school building tracing the air in tandem. Something sparks between their hands and lights a quiver of excitement in me.

“They put on public demonstrations a few times a year. Not while we’ll be in residence, sadly, but Bastien hopes we can make a trip back at an opportune time in the future. For now, watch for the café with the pale blue front up ahead. Ask one of your guards to go in and get you an amber spritz. Apparently they’re a popular drink from Silana. Bastien’s promising we’ll all drink one later today.

Kassun retrieves the beverage for me without complaint. As the carriage rolls on, I sip it, imagining my three lovers here to share in the moment with me more directly. I can’t even tell Bastien that the mingling of sweet and sour flavors makes the drink one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.

But in a way, theyareall here with me, like a ghostly arm around my shoulders, guiding me through the city.

The burbling of water draws my gaze to the window again. Up ahead lies a statue of Prospira with a pitcher under both arms, pouring water into the fountain at her feet. A sprawling garden of vibrant flowers stretches out around it, with more rivulets of water glinting in channels between the flower beds.

“The fountain you’ll be seeing uses an approach they borrowed from Icarian engineering. The water circulates through the whole garden and back into the fountain, self-sustaining. As long as it rains often enough.”Lorenzo pauses in his commentary.“Bastien says they couldn’t pull off something like that in the northern parts of the country.”

I can hear Bastien’s melancholy over that fact through Lorenzo’s words. My awe fades with the clenching of my gut.

There are so many wonders here in Cotea, and so much pain too.

As we round a bend, I tug back the curtain even farther and stiffen in surprise.

It appears Neven has come into the city today too. The young prince is standing outside a tavern, his arm looped with that of the harpist he’s fond of while two other men who I think are royal musicians from the Cotean palace gesticulate through whatever story they’re telling. Neven has a mug rimmed with froth clutched in one hand.

While I take that in, he glances my way. Our gazes meet. Before I can lift my hand to wave in greeting, his expression goes rigid. His eyes dart away from me with a sallowing of his tan skin, as if he’s upset—or embarrassed?—that I saw him.

As if he wouldn’t want me to know he’d come down here at all.

Lorenzo has started talking again, so I wrench my attention back to my lover’s voice. But as the carriage travels onward, theimage of Neven’s guilt-stricken face lingers in the back of my mind.

He swore to work on my behalf and protect me weeks ago, back in Vivencia. He’s barely spoken to me since we left.

What’s going on in the mind of the youngest prince now—and why does he seem determined to hide it?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Aurelia

Slipping into the royal meeting room, I feel oddly small. Perhaps it’s because of the way King Stanislas has spoken to me over the past two weeks, as if he’s found my mind and my intellectual ambitions wanting. Or perhaps it’s because I’m ducking out of the current of nobles heading toward the palace gardens as if I’m a furtive servant rather than one of the rulers of the empire.

King Stanislas, Queen Odile, and Prince Rolland have stepped into the long room ahead of me. They’re already poised by the circle of chairs around the low table at the far end—standing rather than sitting as if to show they don’t intend to relax. They nod in acknowledgment to me and Bastien, who arranged this surreptitious meeting that won’t involve my husband.

Just over the threshold, I glance back at the two guards who followed me. I was glad to see Kassun on duty this evening, since he’s the one I feel I’ve won over the most. After my healingefforts at the temple of Elox, he’s seemed to draw himself up with even more pride when he’s watching over me.

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