Page 56 of Court of Vipers (The Lady of Innislee)

The royal guards led them to the largest of the private balconies, where Valerian and Eamon claimed the seats on either side of Riona. Auberon sat beside Drystan and watched over the railing as eager patrons filed into the theater, chattering excitedly. Once they were all seated, theater attendants ran throughout the room, extinguishing the lanterns until the audience sat in a blanket of darkness. Gradually, a low, rolling melody filled the room. The curtains swept open, revealing a stage full of twisting, skeletal trees partially hidden behind a sheer wall of fabric.

Several elven women in silken gowns melted from the shadows. Their fair skin was painted an ethereal silver, and gossamer wings protruded from their backs. They spun and twisted through the fantastical forest like wraiths, their movements laced with the elves’ fabled grace. Auberon’s heart stuttered as realization swept over him. He hadn’t recognized it at first, but he knew the song dancing on the air. It was the opening of his mother’s favorite ballet. He should have realized it the second he saw the trees all those weeks ago, but he had never attended a performance before; he had only ever heard his mother play the music.

Something moved in his periphery. He looked over to find Riona watching him, studying his reaction. Had she arranged this? The outing to the theater had been a last-minute plan; he and Drystan had only received the invitation that morning. He thought back to all those nights he had slipped into the theater in secret. There had been no signs on the exterior announcing that they would be performing the ballet, which meant they must have been rehearsing for a future performance. Had Riona convinced the owner of the theater to put on a special show for the court?

A pang shot through his heart at the thought. She didn’t owe him anything for all the nights they had spent in the theater. In truth, he had come to enjoy sneaking out and sparring with her more than he would ever dare to admit. The meaning of her gesture was clear enough: it was a goodbye, of a sort. He had ended their shaky alliance. Tonight would be their last night in the Royal Theater, and tomorrow, they would go their separate ways.

* * *

The end of the ballet was spectacular. The music swelled as the faerie queen cut down the last human soldier standing in her path. He crumpled, and she knelt beside him, removing the heavy golden amulet from around the man’s neck. As she did, the music softened and stretched out to a low, mournful note that gradually faded into silence. Auberon held his breath as the drums began to pound a steadythump, thump, thump, like the pulse of a heart. The dancer held the amulet before her as if praying, her lips forming soundless words. Faeries slunk out of the shadows to gather around their queen, watching with astonishment as the sheer fabric hanging over the stage rippled, then fluttered to the ground. The magical barrier keeping them trapped in the forest had been broken.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The faeries let out a jubilant shout and leapt from the stage, twisting and spinning down the aisles. Some even pulled nobles from their seats and drew them into their otherworldly dance, to the delight of the audience. Standing behind them, alone in the small clearing, the queen pressed a hand to her heart and swayed on her feet. The grip of her sword slipped through her fingers, and she collapsed beside the soldier she had killed.

The drums

thump…

thump…

thumped…

and fell silent.

As the curtains swung shut, Drystan and the others rose and applauded. Auberon barely registered it. The slow, steady beat of the drums rang in his ears as his hand wandered to his shoulder, where the warmth from Valerian’s touch had once throbbed.

Oh, Creator…

He knew how the duke had healed him.

Theater attendants ran around the floor below, lighting the lanterns, and chatter filled the room as the nobles slowly filtered into the foyer. As someone turned up the lantern’s flame in their private box, Auberon rose and walked over to where Valerian stood, speaking with Drystan and Lord Lachlan. He gripped the duke’s arm and murmured, “Speak with me in private, right now.”

Valerian barely spared him a glance. “Can’t it wait until we return to the castle, Your Highness?”

“No.”

At the blunt response, the duke turned, his polite smile fading when he saw the rage simmering in Auberon’s eyes. “…Very well.”

“Should I come?” Drystan asked. “You look a little pale, Auberon.”

He heard the words Drystan didn’t dare voice in front of Riona’s father:Do you need help?

“No, I’m sure we won’t be long.”

Send a guard looking for me if I’m not back soon.

Drystan nodded, and Auberon pulled Valerian into the hall none too gently. He ignored the duke’s objections—and the grumbling of the people he jostled—as he pushed through the crowded foyer and out the theater’s doors. Several couples lingered just outside, chatting while they waited for their carriages, so Auberon dragged Valerian around the side of the theater, well out of earshot.

“That’s enough,” Valerian snapped, yanking his arm out of Auberon’s grasp. “What in the Creator’s name—”

“I know how you healed my lungs,” Auberon spat, a black wave of fury swelling within him. “Blood magic.”

PartFour

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