The Magician smiled. “It was my pleasure.”
Gideon opened the workroom door and held it for me. “We’ll let you get back to work, Master Otokar.”
He nodded as Gideon drew me into the hallway. “What’s the big rush?” I whispered.
“I don’t care for Magicians,” he muttered. “You got what you came for. There was no reason to linger.”
I scowled at his back as he led me toward our rooms. “I don’t like it when you get bossy.”
“And I don’t like it when you get hurt. Let me do my job.”
I huffed behind him. “I’m going to regret your promotion, aren’t I?”
He tossed a dark look over his shoulder. “The horses are easier to tend than you are, Evie.”
I resisted the urge to blow a raspberry at him, although it would have perfectly summarized my feelings. Instead, we trudged to our rooms in silence. Marlis greeted us the moment we stepped through the door. Excitement radiated from her, and she clutched a stiff, cream-colored card as if it were a trophy. “The empress has invited you to a dinner party tomorrow night.” She presented the card to me. “There will be visiting dignitaries, and she wants you to meet them.”
“Dignitaries?” I said. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough Tereza knows my identity, but to reveal myself to more strangers seems like a big risk.”
“I agree,” Gideon said.
“Did she say where these dignitaries are coming from?” I asked.
“She didn’t, but the servant who brought her invitation said Her Highness thought you would be very interested to meet them. They’re well-connected.”
I turned to Gideon, so I could read his expression. “Maybe she means it’s another avenue to use for finding the Fantazikes. Maybe they’re interested in my claims to the Inselgrish throne.”
He frowned. “Maybe Tereza has ulterior motives, too. You don’t know if you can trust her.”
“Every move we make, short of hiding in the shadows again, has risks.”
“I breathed easier in the shadows.”
“And yet, the empress still found us.”
“You weren’t exactly being quiet.”
I balled a fist. “I can’t reclaim my throne in silence.”
Gideon’s frown deepened into a scowl. “You can’t claim your throne if you’re locked up, broken, or dead, either.”
Perhaps his authoritarian nature inspired my rebellious urges, or perhaps I was tired of playing mouse, skittering around the dark places of the world, trying not to draw attention. We had lived that way for weeks, and it hadn’t helped me or kept me safe. Finding myself, my connection to the storms and thunder and my kingdom, meant stepping into the daylight—it was a tactic we had yet to try. “Hiding has gotten us nowhere. Dangerous or not, I’m willing to make myself known. It might make the difference between merely surviving and truly living. It might be the key to finding my thunder when nothing else has worked.
“I’m going to Tereza’s dinner. I’ll meet these dignitaries and see if they have anything useful to offer. You’ll be there, too, Gideon, playing the role of my personal guard, but I want you to watch and listen and tell me anything you think might help us.” I pointed toward my bedroom. “Marlis, please help me find something appropriate to wear.”
Gideon said nothing as I retreated into my chambers. Moments later, the hallway door opened and banged shut hard enough to make the walls shudder.
I opened the wardrobe. “Your brother has quite the temper.”
Marlis drew up beside me and stared at the collection of jewel-toned fabrics. “Not really. I think you simply have a knack for drawing out his ire.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Knack?”
She smiled. “A talent.” I shook my head and focused on the gowns again. “He’s worried about you. He cares for you and it makes him afraid.”
I snorted but withheld my retort. Not that I had a reply, other than to deny her assertion. She set her jaw, crossed her arms over her chest, and boldly returned my stare. Clearly, she believed her claims, and my own doubts wouldn’t sway her. Perhaps Gideon did care for me on a personal level, but maybe he only wanted to assuage his guilt for betraying me to his uncle.
He’d abandoned his home for me, but what was his ultimate goal? Surely, he wanted something more than bowing at my feet for the rest of his life. Gideon had ambition—of that much I was certain. But to what end?
After nearly half an hour of debate, Marlis and I agreed on a twilight-colored gown, made of a fabric that shimmered in deep cobalt blue and iridescent violet, depending on which way I moved. She set out a pair of long formal gloves and a string of jet beads. The dress’s neckline dipped lower than what I was comfortable wearing, but if I had to spend my evening among Bohnemm’s royalty and foreign dignitaries, I meant to do it as their equal.
With that chore completed, I’d run out of things to do, and my nerves rallied, demanding distraction. Left without a task or chore to occupy my thoughts, my mind wandered, churning my anxiety like the currents in an ocean storm. Got to get out of here before I drive myself crazy. A glance out the window confirmed the day was cloudless and clear—ideal weather for outdoor activity, and riding was the perfect distraction.
“Where are you going?” Marlis asked as I opened the hallway door. She clutched a collection of dresses we had tried on and discarded, and I briefly felt bad for leaving her to tidy my mess. But not bad enough to stay inside a moment longer.
“To check on Adaleiz. Either I haven’t had time to ride her, or I’ve been too exhausted. It’s about time we get some exercise.”
“You should take Gideon with you.”
I collected my Thunder Cloak from where it lay over one of the chairs facing the fireplace. As much as it chided me to admit it, running off without my guardian would’ve been a careless act. I didn’t have to make it easy for him, though. “Fine. Tell your brother I’m riding east. He can catch up to me on the edge of town.”
Chapter 5
No one stopped or questioned me as I descended the stairs and exited the castle, retracing the route Otokar had led me on the day before. If I’d asked, one of the household’s servants would have retrieved my horse for me, but I preferred, instead, to do that one thing for myself.
In the courtyard beyond the castle’s front doors, a guard stood at the small archway leading to the carriageway and main gate beyond. When he saw me coming, he clicked his heels, bowed, and swung open the postern. I sighed, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, expecting him to refuse my exit. When Tereza had said I wasn’t her prisoner, she apparently hadn’t been lying.
Beyond the circled drive, the main gates remained closed, but another small postern in the wall next to the heavy iron barriers swung open as I approached. A second guard clicked his heels and bowed as I strolled through the castle wall, following the carriageway leading into the heart of Prigha.
