The Shadows Between Us Read online

  When I reach the bottom of the steps, Kallias doesn’t approach me. In fact, he turns away, engaging one of his nearby council members in conversation.

  Disappointment and irritation mingle within me, but I keep my face in a pleasant smile.

  I think to start welcoming my guests, but as I take a few steps in one direction, the partygoers … scatter.

  What the devils?

  Perhaps I’ve only imagined it? I head for the refreshment table, thinking to check on the food arrangements. Skirts sway from my path, and a group of gentlemen cut off their conversation midsentence to turn away from me and find somewhere else to stand.

  What is the matter with everyone?

  When I’m steps away from the table, I relax as someone approaches me. Until I realize it’s my father.

  “I don’t recall sending you an invitation,” I say, distracting myself with a glass of champagne from the table.

  “Must have slipped your mind,” Father says. But once he gets close enough not to be overheard, he adds, “I’m here to rescue you, Alessandra.”

  I take a sip from my glass as though I don’t hear him. Father is hoping to get a reaction from me. It won’t happen.

  “Did you hear me, Alessandra? I’m going to save you and your reputation.”

  Again, I say nothing.

  “What with the rumors of your crime spreading like wildfire, we must keep you safe by wedding you off right away to a powerful man.”

  My eyes flit to Father’s face. “Rumors of my crime?”

  “Yes, the murder of Hektor Galanis. Everyone is talking of it.”

  That’s why everyone is suddenly giving me a wide berth. They think me a murderess.

  Damn Faustus. He must know the king cleared me of all charges, but that didn’t stop him from running his tongue.

  “Don’t worry, darling,” Father says. “A hasty marriage will offer you some protection. I’ve been talking with the Viscount of Thoricus—”

  “Rhouben’s father?”

  “You’re familiar with his son, then? Wonderful. He recently ended his engagement with a baron’s daughter. The two of you will make a smart match.”

  I nearly spit out the champagne in my mouth. “So now I’m to marry someone beneath my station?”

  “He has money, Alessandra. And with my dear friend Eliades behind bars, we can’t very well rely on him anymore.”

  I set my empty champagne glass down on a tray as a servant walks by. Then I face my father fully. “So nothing less than a duke will do for Chrysantha, but I’m to wed a future viscount. Is that it?”

  “You can hardly afford to be picky with the way people are talking about you.”

  I startle my father when I start laughing. “You never listen to me. You never have, but let me be clear. I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need a hasty marriage. I have the king, and he has pardoned me of all charges. You would know this if you ever bothered to ask me about the situation instead of coming to your own conclusions and solutions.

  “He’s proposing to me tonight,” I finish.

  “He hasn’t asked my permission—”

  “He doesn’t need to. He’s the king, and as I said, you’re not getting a cent out of the treasury for me.”

  He tries to get in another sentence, but I don’t let him.

  “No. This is my party. My night. You do not get to ruin it.” I eye a couple of guards against the walls. When I catch their attention, I beckon them to me with a hand.

  I half expect them not to listen. But they do. Two young men come striding forward, rifles slung over their shoulders.

  “Yes, my lady?” one of them asks.

  “Have the earl escorted from the ball. He’s not welcome. If he does not leave willingly, you have my permission to use force.”

  Father lets out one laugh. “Who do you think you are? The queen?”

  But the two guards step between me and my father. “This way, my lord.”

  Father looks upon me with bewilderment. And then, for the briefest of moments, I feel that he finally sees me. My ambition. My cunning. My achievements. The guards heeding my commands are proof enough of what I’ve been trying to explain to my father for weeks.

  I have achieved exactly what I set out to do.

  And then Father seems to realize that if that’s true, then what I said about not receiving a bride-price for me must be true as well. His face turns to one of panic as the guards grip his arms firmly and escort him away.

  Everyone in the ballroom has paused to watch the spectacle, though neither the music nor the chatter has ceased.

  And now, not a soul seems to have a problem approaching me. Not when I can have them thrown from the party. Not when the king’s guards obey my commands. In fact, I’m greeted by no fewer than ten nobles as they grab drinks and sample hors d’oeuvres.

  “An astonishing party. Are those chocolates shaped like rosebuds?” Rhouben plucks a candy from the table and tosses it into his mouth. After swallowing, he adds, “I could kiss you right now.”

  “Best not to do it in public,” I say.

  “Seriously, Alessandra. Thank you. I know I’ve already said it, but I’ll say it again. You freed me from Melita. She’s left the palace, she was so distraught over the breakup, Eliades’s rejection, and then Eliades’s imprisonment. I’m a free man again.”

  And he doesn’t even know I just saved him from marriage to me, as well.

  “How are you enjoying your bachelorhood?” I ask.

  “I’m going to celebrate by dancing with every single gorgeous woman in attendance tonight. That includes you. Save me a dance?”

  “Of course.”

  He kisses my hand, and I watch him take off to a corner where Petros and Leandros laugh together.

  It’s nice to see Leandros. I worried he wouldn’t come.

  As if sensing my gaze, he looks over. Upon seeing me watching, he offers a small smile. I offer him a grand one in return.

  Leandros is clad in all black, just as Kallias was the first time I laid eyes on him. Only Leandros wears a painted black rose near his lapels. I almost miss the plant, since it blends in so well with his waistcoat. The sight of the flower endears Leandros to me even more. Kallias hasn’t spoken to him in a year, and yet, he shows up at a party in honor of the king’s mother and wears her favorite blossom. The rest of his dark attire makes Leandros’s golden skin look lighter, and it really brings out the darker undertones in his pale brown hair.

  It doesn’t matter what he wears—he’s so handsome and thoughtful. He really will make some girl very happy.

  I force my gaze away and survey more of the room. I’m pleased to find that most everyone is showing up in the proper attire. I see a group of ladies dressed as tulips, their necklines rising in the back to a standing collar, curving around their heads and to the sides of their faces, shaping like a tulip’s petals. Bands around their heads have the protruding stamen.

  One lady is ambitious enough to attempt what I think is supposed to be a daffodil. With a gold hat shaped like the flower’s horn, she looks rather … different.

  The men are predictably boring, with nothing more than flowers in their breast pockets to match the ladies.

  I spot Hestia and Rhoda and rush over to them. Rhoda is dressed like her namesake. The hem at the base of her dress is gathered into clusters that look like purple-pink rhododendrons. Simple, yet quite elegant.

  Hestia is a marvel in dusty pink. She, too, went for roses, but instead of shaping the entire dress like one, she simply had her seamstress sew exquisite beading over the entire skirt, shaping trails of thorny vines and blossoming flowers.

  “You both look exquisite,” I say.

  “Thank you,” Hestia says. “Did you notice my shawl?”

  I take the time to examine the pink silk about her shoulders. “Oh, you sewed it yourself, didn’t you?”

  It’s a simple task, sewing down the ends to give the accessory a smooth edge all around, but I know how terrib
le Hestia was when she started learning to sew, unable to keep her stitches straight. And while the shawl isn’t perfect, as I can see a loose thread hanging off one end, most of the stitches look fantastic.

  “It looks amazing,” I tell her.

  “I had a good teacher,” she says in return.

  “The decor turned out even better than you described,” Rhoda offers. “And you put everyone to shame with your dress. How do you manage to look like a flower without looking ridiculous?”

  “I spent a lot of time on it,” I admit. When I wasn’t with Kallias, I was sewing.

  “Something is missing,” I note as I survey Rhoda. “Ah, I told you to bring Galen! Where is he?”

  Rhoda flicks a black lock over her shoulder, discreetly pointing her head toward a spot against the wall.

  It takes me three tries before I spot him. I was looking for a servant, dressed in simple cotton and drab colors. I wasn’t prepared for a dashing man in purple-pink brocade. He even fixed his hair, somehow getting the ends to smooth back out of his face. Despite the improved attire, the man looks terribly uncomfortable with the way his hands twitch at his sides and the way he eyes the guards nearby as though expecting to be thrown out.

  “Whatever is he doing over there?” I ask.

  Rhoda sighs. “He’s waiting to, well, wait on me.”

  “But didn’t you tell him he was to be your escort?”

  “I did, but I think he misunderstood me. He only accepted the clothing I had made for him because he knew he couldn’t serve me tonight if he wasn’t dressed for the occasion.”

  “Oh, Rhoda, you must set things straight for him.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Hestia says.

  “I tried,” Rhoda says. “I told him to walk with me and be at my side, but he insisted he could see if I needed anything from the corners of the room.”

  I shake my head. “Stop being so timid with him. Sometimes men need a little help. Do something that he can’t mistake as being a servant’s task.”

  “Like what?”

  “Invite him to dance with you.”

  Her eyes turn down, and she fiddles with her own fingers.

  “What’s the matter?” Hestia asks.

  “What if he tells me no?” Rhoda says. “What if he’s trying to tell me he’s not interested by purposely misunderstanding my intentions? What if I’m harassing him? Or worse, what if he feels obligated to abide my wishes when I do make myself clear because I am his employer?”

  “Oh, Rhoda,” Hestia says. “All that uncertainty and fear? It comes with being in love. But once you’re past it, everything is wonderful! Of course Galen cares for you. He’s been at your side for years. No servant is obligated to become your friend and confidant, yet Galen has always been both for you. He loves you. It’s obvious to everyone. Now, go and get your man.”

  Rhoda steels herself before marching in Galen’s direction.

  I turn to Hestia. “Very sage advice.”

  “I only learned it myself a short time ago.”

  I pause a moment. “How—how do you get past that fear? How is it worth what might come later? The heartbreak?”

  She considers my questions before answering, “I think that when you care enough for someone, you reach a point where it’s far more painful not to have him at all than to have him and risk losing him. You realize the risk is worth it. Because happiness, however short-lived, is always worth it.”

  We both watch as Rhoda reaches Galen. She says something to him, and he nods. She says something more, and he looks at her, his head quirking in curiosity. Then she throws her head back, grabs his arm, and drags him to the dance floor.

  It’s awkward to watch at first. Rhoda leads, because Galen has not been taught the dances. Not as a commoner. But after a moment, his arms hold her more firmly, his feet find the steps, and he has eyes for nothing but the dazzling woman in front of him. He has the look of a man who has just been handed the world.

  “Now, isn’t that worth it?” Hestia says.

  “Where is your Lord Paulos this evening?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Oh, he said he’d be a little late. Some business he had to attend to.”

  “Men are always attending to business.”

  “But the king isn’t. Is he not just sitting on the dais? Why haven’t you gone to him?”

  “He hasn’t come to me.”

  “He knows you’re in charge of this party. Perhaps he fears getting in the way.”

  “The party is already all planned out. I am simply enjoying it now. He should be enjoying it with me. But he won’t even look at me now.”

  Hestia purses her lips. “Sometimes I wish we could know exactly what ridiculous thoughts were going through their heads.”

  “Indeed.”

  CHAPTER

  26

  Hestia leaves my side once Lord Paulos arrives a short time later. She offers to stay with me and chat, but I shoo her away.

  Just because my man is ignoring me, it doesn’t me she should ignore hers.

  “You look lovely tonight, Lady Stathos,” comes a voice at my back.

  Lady Zervas hasn’t bothered to match my theme. I suppose it would be stranger if she did. I doubt there’s anyone in the world who bears more ill will toward the late queen than the other woman who competed for the king’s heart. The woman who lost.

  “You’re not in costume,” I respond, taking in her simple emerald-colored gown that doesn’t bear any added ornamentation.

  “I wore green, didn’t I? What says ‘garden’ more than that?”

  I have nothing to say in response.

  “I was surprised to receive your invitation,” she says. “I didn’t think you particularly liked our last conversation.”

  “I didn’t, but who could use a ball more than cranky old spinsters?”

  She laughs at the jibe—a response I hadn’t expected. “I like you,” she says. “I think you will make a fine queen. I only thought to tell you how to protect yourself when last we spoke.”

  “It’s too late for that,” I say, more to myself than to her.

  She nods, as though understanding what I mean completely, before walking on.

  * * *

  THE BALL IS IN full swing, and my friends couldn’t be happier. Hestia and Lord Paulos share a dance. Rhoda and Galen are in a corner, talking and giving each other light touches. A few judgmental stares are eyeing them, but Rhoda is blind to them. I’ll have a thing or two to say if anyone tries to interrupt my friend’s happiness.

  Petros has a new lord in his arms, and the two are the most elegant dancers in the room, I’m convinced. Meanwhile, Rhouben is eyeing a lady over the rim of his wineglass. Even Leandros has found a dance partner, a pretty girl in lavender.

  The guards are quiet sentinels at the edges of the room. All weapons have been checked at the entrances.

  And Kallias—

  Kallias is still on his throne, watching me. Not participating, but present. As he always must live his life.

  I sigh and turn away. I suppose this is about to become my life full-time. Might as well get used to it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my own ball. Rhouben still hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask the lady to dance, so at the next lull in between songs, I start to stride over to him.

  A gentle hand comes down on my shoulder, and I turn.

  “Dance with me.”

  Kallias pulls me into his arms before I can answer, holding me right there for the whole world to see. The song strikes up, and he moves us in time to the gentle thrumming of the violins. He lets his shadows swirl about his face, to let any onlookers know he is still in full control of his powers. But his arms are tangible for our dance, so he can spin me, lift me, clutch me against him. His gloved hands move over my back and arms as he leads me through the steps.

  I’m unprepared for the sudden sensation of being on fire. Everywhere his gloves touch burns. I can barely feel my feet—I even trip once—I’m so aware of where
his body touches mine.

  Damn him.

  “What are you doing?” I finally manage to get out. “You don’t get to ignore me all evening only to dance with me now!”

  He leans forward. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “I kept my distance to keep myself from doing something stupid. Something like this.” He pulls me so close it’s indecent as we go through the next steps.

  I can’t even hear the music anymore. All I hear is Kallias’s frantic heartbeats, his warm breath against my hair.

  When I dare to look up into his eyes, I realize it’s the wrong thing to do.

  I’m burning. My core goes up in flames. His gaze looks hungry, heated, desirous. The look of a man who hasn’t had human contact in a year.

  Kallias said it himself. No man would give up the power of the shadows except for the deepest and most all-consuming of loves.

  Not that I want him to love me.

  He met me two months ago.

  And I used to want to kill him.

  But now everything is different, and I want so much more. At the same time, I’m terrified of having more and so glad he cannot touch me, that he will never hurt me because we will never be allowed to get that close.

  The music comes to an end, but Kallias keeps one of my hands in his. “Come with me,” he says.

  He leads us up to the dais where the throne is.

  No.

  Now there are two thrones. When was the second brought in?

  Oh gods. It’s happening now.

  At some signal from Kallias, the beginnings of another song cut off. My guests go silent, and all eyes are on the king.

  He seats me into the second throne, before dropping to his knees before me and brandishing a ring between two fingers.

  It glistens in the light. I don’t take in any details, because my gaze is locked on Kallias’s. Little gasps and exclamations sound throughout the ballroom.

  “Alessandra,” the king says in a voice only I can hear. “You’ve made me happy again. You’ve given me hope and become an invaluable confidante and the greatest of friends. A—a woman I could love.”