Page 64 of Of Song and Scepter
The darksteel figures turn back to the ocean, leaving a frowning captain in the sand.
Odissa throws her head back, beaming. “Oh, thank the fucking goddess. It’s not him.”
Her words reach me through a haze of panic. On the beach, the captain reads the message on the stone. She shakes her head, then stashes it in her belt before marching back toward the keep.
“Guess the dredgebeast ate that soldier after all.” Odissa sighs. “I was about to worry.” Odissa crosses the room, lifting the dress from the bed. She holds it against her chest and tests the length of it.
If this was a stroke of luck, then why do I feel so sick?
I lean against the wall, studying the former death-dealer as she spins into a sloppy waltz and counts the beats in a whisper. She misses a step, then skitters to catch up—a mistake any royal would surely notice.
The Abyssal King may have passed on his invitation, but Odissa is not in the clear. Not even a well-placed spell from me could smooth those dancing feet, and especially not when I’ll be playing watchful handmaid in the corner of the room.
And there’s this matter of Soren’s secret weapon. What does he intend to do with it?
Sickness churns in my stomach.Me.I’m untrustworthy as they come, and if Soren finds out my role in this mess…
Odissa trips again, covering it up with a twist as she returns to lay the dress on the bed. “You’ll accompany me on the dance floor,” she says. “I’ll need you at hand.”
“So I can fix your footwork?”
“Precisely.”
She will fail. It’s as inevitable as the tides. The goddess will come to collect her dues on the full moon—five days from now. Odissa will become the goddess’s lunch, I will have broken my oath, and Soren will know the truth of it all.
Even on the off chance she succeeds, Odissa will never set me free. Never. She’s selfish and malicious and has never had my best interest in mind.Or…
My mind caresses the thought of the necklace. Would it work for me, I wonder, if I wore it? What might happen when Odissa spoke?
For a moment, I imagine her writhing in pain at the hands of an ancient spell. It would be torturous for her, from what I’ve learned of Eero’s character. Odissa would eventually perish, but not after a due punishment for threatening the wearer of Eero’s mighty gift.
My scalp prickles. Is this what I want?
I shake my head, clearing the thought as quickly as it comes. No. It’s too risky. I don’t want her dead; I just want to be free of her. If I want to experience freedom before I die, even if only for a few days, I should leave. Tonight.
My heart aches, an escape plan already forming. I’ll take my leave at high tide, when the guests are drunk and the waves are close. If I’m going to die, I’d rather be in the sea when the moment comes.
“And what is a handmaid supposed to wear to a royal ball?”
Odissa eyes the wardrobe, turning to me with a wry smile. “I’m sure Clio would love to help you find something suitable.”
Chapter thirty-seven
Soren
“Hugo, I need youto distract me.”
My attendant rifles through the formal attire in my wardrobe. He turns to catch my gaze in the mirror.
“And from what event could Your Highness possibly need a distraction?” His eyebrow lifts, then flattens, and he turns back to his work. “Was holding court that unbearable today? Or perhaps my prince is having second thoughts about his upcoming marriage.”
Court had been unbearable, though thankfully this time void of more marriage proposals. I grimace, kneading the soreness from my lower back. “Says the male without a propensity for gossip.”
He pulls two garments from the wardrobe. “It’s not gossip if I’m discussing it with my prince directly. Now, what does His Highness think of these?”
I eye the white leather pants and light blue silk shirt, the constricting staples of Coral male two-legged fashion. The pants will be uncomfortably tight. If a certain mysterious shadow-guard is in attendance tonight, the entire court will get a view of my attraction to her.
“Looks good enough.”
