Page 81 of The Iron Dagger
Musicians played in a corner, and a small group danced in the center of the room. Glowing bubbles floated above them, drifting aimlessly as their lights shifted hue to the music. The deafening rumble of overlapping conversations filled everycorner of the packed room. Some guests she recognized from the palace, but many faces were new.
All this for Gideon’s homecoming, she thought. As the only son of Commander Falk, he must have been cherished indeed.
“Hara!” a voice called, and she turned to see Sarai making her way towards her, a glass of wine held aloft. The stiffness in her shoulders eased slightly.
Hara had gone to Sarai’s laboratory twice in the past week. She went in the depths of the night when no one else would notice her absent from her duties and worked alongside Melietta.
Melietta was cordial now, if not friendly. Maybe the fact that Hara was willing to help them in their efforts tipped the scales slightly in her favor. Melietta showed her the spellwork she had worked out for the magnetic solution, but the pages of formulas and symbols may as well have been written in a foreign language for all the sense Hara could make of them. It had been many years since she’d studied magical theory, and this was far more advanced than anything she’d seen before.
Though Hara’s academic magic was stunted, Melietta was surprisingly patient and loaned her some books to help translate the symbols and principles. It was difficult work, but she was pleased whenever a long-forgotten concept would lock into place.
This week, they had succeeded in halting the corrosion, but the gold now laid inert at the bottom of the flask as though it sat in ordinary water. She did not mind the late nights poring over calculations and practicing unfamiliar rune shapes. All she could think of was the look on the Widderstone children’s faces when they were reunited with their parents.
Sarai finally pushed her way to Hara’s side with a tall, exquisitely handsome man following in her wake. He was Sarai’sequal in beauty, each sharing the same high cheekbones and liquid dark eyes.
He bowed to Hara as Sarai said, “This is my brother, Robert. Robert, this is Lady Hara.”
“A pleasure to finally meet you,” said Lord Robert in a smooth, deep voice. The accompanying grin he flashed her made Hara’s stomach flutter. “Sarai has told me so much about you. I feel I must exercise some restraint and make introductions properly.”
Hara smiled back, curious about what the Winthrope parents looked like to produce such siblings. “Please share, what has she told you?”
Robert ticked off items on his fingers. “You are a Seer, an herbalist, and you come from Norwen. And you saved Lord Gideon’s life, though that is common knowledge by now.”
“It feels rather odd to meet someone who knows more about me than I do them,” said Hara. “It’s a novel experience.”
“Seer problems,” said Sarai, smiling over the rim of her glass. Sarai’s shoulders rose bare and elegant out of her gown of silver satin. The top half of her face was powdered white with tiny buttercups painted across her cheekbones.
“I did not think it was possible, but you look even more stunning in a ball gown,” Hara said.
“The old biddy changed the theme of the ball at the last minute, and she even ordered a peacock. I thought gray was safe and neutral, but I stick out like a rotten tooth.” She shook her head, then her expression cleared as she grasped Hara’s arm. “Did you hear the news?” At Hara’s puzzled look, she went on, “The couple down in the mines—the man who was injured? The ones you seemed to know?”
“The Widderstones,” said Hara, her gut clenching. What misfortune had befallen them now? Her heart twisted as sheimagined his wound worsening, or another rock fall burying them both.
“An anonymous donor paid their ransom to the Steward. They were released just this morning. Apparently, the donor arranged for transport to Norwen and a small plot of land, all bought and paid for.”
“What?” gasped Hara. The amount of wealth and influence it would take to do such a thing was staggering. Why were they chosen to be set free? It did not make sense. “Who would do this?”
Sarai gave her a small half smile, tilting her chin down knowingly. “Can you not guess?”
It couldn’t be, thought Hara. When had Gideon ever shown a charitable side? But as she had the thought, she felt that it was somewhat unfair. The man who had come to her cottage on the brink of death, prickly and not the least remorseful about his questionable past, wouldn’t give a brass mark about a war-torn family. But she had not seen that man in some time. If it was true that he had done this . . .
Something sweet and molten bloomed in her chest, causing a gentle ache in her throat. Her cheeks felt like glowing coals and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. This was not the time to lose control, with half the court watching. She took a shuddery breath and adjusted her posture. There would be time enough to examine the rapidly fluttering warmth in her chest later.
With effort, she concentrated on the conversation happening between Sarai and her brother. Apparently, they were discussing Lady Eleanora.
“The quickest way for you to put an end to her scheming is if you wed,” said Lord Robert. “Or at least give the impression that your star has not dimmed. Dance all night, show her that the Winthropes are immune to sabotage.”
“I hate dancing. And none of these fops interest me,” said Sarai, taking a sip of her wine.
“Surely not all of us are fops, Sarai,” said a deep voice, and Hara turned to see Gideon standing at her side. The warm fluttering in her chest awakened tenfold at the sight of him.
He wore a midnight-blue cape over one shoulder, the gilt cords taut across his chest. A white silk shirt opened down his chest to reveal a teardrop sapphire on a chain. Matching jewels dangled from his ears, catching the light with every movement. As he glanced down at her with a warm glint in his eyes, heat tickled along her spine.
“At least you’ve dyed your hair dark again. Lord Cheswyn’s is back to that horrid shade of chartreuse,” said Sarai.
“You’ll have to thank Hara for that,” said Gideon. “She insisted.”
“Though it looks like someone did a better job than what my homemade walnut paste could do,” said Hara, admiring his darkly elegant locks.
