Chapter Five
Kendrick’s information about the princess’s return proved true, as next week the invitations for the masque went out. Salazar had yet to invite Kara back to his workshop, but she’d been studying the runes every night before she slept. It was slow-going, tedious work. Her hearth was laden with ash from all the practice pages she’d burnt, but some of the runes were intricate and needed to be drawn from start to finish without stopping.
She’d taken up Merry on her offer to pierce her ears for her. The maid had done it with a hot needle and a cork pressed behind her ear, swift and decisive. The pain had been minimal, and she’d healed quickly. Kara quite liked the look of the king’s jewels dangling from her earlobes, catching the light. Merry had even convinced Kara to practice walking in heels in preparation for the masquerade. Kara was convinced they were demon shoes better suited as weapons than footwear, but she practiced nonetheless.
She was beginning to feel the slow encroach of her keening, like a shadow at the edge of her vision. She was considering taking the demon’s drip once it began in earnest.Or perhaps you can take a lover on the side of your own. There’d been no word from Logan still, and the evidence in the bowl had been damning. Perhaps someone at tonight’s fête would interest her. Kendrick might be game, but he seemed to be looking for something more serious than a fling. And while they had a friendly camaraderie, Kara felt no real connection with him. No spark. Nothing like the hyper-awareness she felt around Logan Vakarian. Damn that man.
On the evening of the ball, Kara had Merry come to her room early to help her get ready. She’d already scrubbed and clipped and shaved within an inch of her life. Kara would be wearing her favorite gown from the modiste—a sleeveless black and crimson number that plunged between her breasts in a deep vee. The fabric wrapped around her breasts and navel, curving into sharp, thorn-like points. It was the loveliest thing Kara had ever worn.
“Lace me tighter tonight,” Kara said as Merry helped her into her corset. She was pulling out all the stops—she needed to drop jaws and disarm people. She’d strapped one of her jeweled daggers to her thigh beneath her shift, in case she ran into any trouble. There’d be lots of unfamiliar faces at the party.
Kara had put a rush order on a mask from the modiste that matched the dress, but it hadn’t arrived until earlier today. Kara slid lid off the mask box, and her mouth fell open. The mask was large—delicate red lace surrounded the eyeholes, and raven feathers were intricately layered beneath the lace, arching down over the cheeks and sweeping back over the forehead. Two large black horns curved out from the mask’s temples, rising into vertical points. Only her eyes, lips, and jaw would be visible beneath it. She didn’t know what the modiste charged for this—the bill went straight to Calim—but it was a work of art.
Merry peered over Kara’s shoulder. “You wanted to be a demon?”
Kara smiled at the irony. “I didn't specify. I just asked that it match the gown.”
“It's striking. Most of the women wear simple lace and feather masks or half masks, so their faces are still visible.”
“I don’t care. I love it.”
Merry nodded. “People will remember it.”
Kara decided to wear her hair down beneath the mask, and Merry curled it with a pair of metal tongs she heated in the fire. Kara had planned to wear an entire set of ruby and onyx jewelry, but with a mask this lavish, she didn't need it. She opted for a pair of ruby drop pendant earrings instead.
She moved to her window and gazed out. From her room, she could see carriages lining up at the entrance of the palace, one after another on a path bordered by statues of past Telerian leaders. Fae lanterns floated between the statues, casting a rainbow of colors across the procession. The line extended past the gate and wrapped around the street. Anyone who could talk—or pay—their way into an invitation would be here tonight.
Merry called her back to the vanity and painted Kara’s lips wine red and lined her eyes with dark kohl. Kara slipped on a pair of black heels, then sat so Merry could tie the mask behind her head and clip the edges into her hair to ensure it didn't fall.
Kara preened in the mirror when they were finished. The kohl liner made her eyes pop behind the mask, and she felt giddy with power. She was beautiful, otherworldly—a demoness destined to make men kneel. She was also incredibly uncomfortable. Her toes were already scrunching against the sides of the shoes, and her corset was tighter than she was used to. The mask’s large horns added extra weight to her head, which was likely to give her a headache if the night went long. And everything was so tight, it’d be a challenge to get to her dagger with any speed.
“How long is this ball again?”
Merry laughed.
* * *
Two glassesof wine into the ball, Kara was enjoying herself immensely. A group of magical creatures paraded past her, dancing and laughing. Foxes and rabbits mingled with fauns and minotaurs, their eyes bright beneath their masks. A man in a dragon mask pulled a giggling fairy into a curtained alcove. The masks, the dresses, the music—thiswas what she’d expected when she’d dreamed of Lerathil, when she’d seen its sprawling spires and sparkling night sky—not empty corridors and cryptic mages to a humble king.
Where had all these people been for the last month? Did they hole up in their manor houses for winter and return with spring? Or was the princess the true life of this city? Princess Ariana had yet to make an appearance—fashionably late, Kara supposed. Or perhaps she was here in secret, disguised beneath a mask to enjoy her chance at anonymity. Now that she thought of it, the man in the fox mask she’d danced with earlier had a frame similar to Calim’s.
Kara flitted between groups of guests, never introducing herself as she hung on the corners of their clusters like decoration. She eavesdropped on their conversations, listening for hints of displeasure with the king and any gossip that might prove valuable.
Whilst prowling the ballroom for leads, she’d been looking for anyone who caught her fancy, someone she might want to keen with. When she felt guilt or hesitation, she summoned the image of the stranger kissing Logan in the bowl and held that rage high in her chest. She’d failed with Vhaidra, but that felt like an eternity ago. She was determined to proposition someone tonight, when the mask would hide her true feelings. The demon’s drip lingered at the back of her mind like a dark promise. Kara shuddered, the thought of plunging it into her skin covering her exposed flesh in goosebumps. She could do this.
Kara had already danced with several men, all forgettable, but the second half of the evening featured dance cards for the new debutantes—a convenient way to arrange introductions to potential suitors. Her name was among the cards. She’d promised a dance to Kendrick, but she’d yet to identify him in the crowd.
It was difficult to choose with everyone’s faces hidden, but a tall man by the drink carts had caught her eye. He was broad-shouldered, with a muscular build beneath his black breeches and doublet. His dark hair was pulled into a knot at the nape of his tan, muscular neck. Many of the courtiers here grew thick from their desk work and the rich foods they could afford, unless they enjoyed some sport or vice, but this man obviously stayed active.
The stranger turned as his companion, a tall man in a royal blue coat with the mask of a golden lion, approached with a drink. The movement exposed his face. He wore the mask of a snarling black wolf, its fangs exposed. All that was visible of his face were thin lips and a chiseled jaw shadowed by a short beard. Kara quite liked the look of him. If he proved not to be insufferable, perhaps she'd ask him. She definitely hadn’t seen him at the palace before; she would have remembered.
Kara made her way over to the table the dance cards were laid out on, eager to inspect hers and investigate who’d made the list. She frowned when she pulled hers out of the pile. A single name was written into every slot.Lord Melbourne.She cursed. How was she supposed to meet potential suitors and ply them for information when some selfish fuck wanted to monopolize her evening? She was going to have a word with this ‘Lord Melbourne.’ Kara didn’t recognize his name, but there were a lot of new people here this evening.
She glared at the servant attending the dance card table and slid her card in front of him. “Who let this happen? You?”
He bit his lip and dropped his eyes. “He—he paid me good money for it. I’ve got a new child at home, my lady. I needed the coin.”
Anger beat behind her eyes, encouraging her to flay him with her words. Kara took a deep breath. She couldn’t blame the man. She knew what it was like to be desperate.
