The Order of Masks, page 17
‘No more secrets,’ I echoed. Kain’s name was like a lodestone around my neck.
I threaded my arm through Aric’s as we joined the line of nobles progressing quickly towards the castle entrance. All too soon, we were facing the four black-garbed Warriors blocking the route inside. Whoever lived here must be important to merit having Warriors as guards, rather than regular soldiers.
‘Names,’ one said, sounding bored.
‘Nikolas Atwood,’ Aric said. It was a gamble; we didn’t know if Nikolas had been invited, but as the son of the Aldarian governor, it seemed likely his name would be on the list. And Nikolas and his group had their own mission, hopefully taking them far from here.
The Warrior waved Aric through. I started to follow, but he blocked my way. ‘And you are?’
‘Cassandra, sir,’ I replied. ‘I’m one of the dancers.’
The Warrior scanned the list and shook his head. ‘You’re not on here.’
‘That can’t be right,’ I protested, and I didn’t have to fake my surprise. ‘Could you please check again?’
This time when he shook his head, it was more forceful. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in. I’ll have to ask you step back—’
‘I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.’
Sabine’s timing was so perfect that I suspected she had foreseen this moment and arrived late for dramatic effect. She glided towards us from inside the castle grounds, dressed in a cropped top and billowing pants that matched her moss-green eyes. A dancer’s outfit very similar to mine.
The Warrior paused to take her in. Confidence radiated from her like an aura, and she rattled off her name with practised ease.
‘Lenore Wayland,’ she told the Warrior, who checked his list. ‘I must apologise for my friend; she’s filling in for Thalia, who was taken ill.’ Her eyes met mine, narrowing in convincing annoyance. ‘And she’s late.’
After a pause, the Warrior nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said to me. ‘You’d best hurry. It’s not wise to keep important people waiting.’
I hardly dared to breathe as I followed Sabine through the arched stone entrance and into the fire-lit garden beyond, filled with the soft buzz of cicadas and conversation.
‘I thought you lot were supposed to be good at this sort of thing.’ Sabine was staring at me, an eyebrow raised. ‘That was so easy, too! I could have gotten past those guards in my sleep.’
‘ “You lot”?’ I repeated.
‘Mask candidates,’ she said, with a pointed glance at me. ‘This Trial is practically designed for you, don’t you think? It’s all about trickery and deception. Infiltration.’
‘Maybe you should be competing for the Order of Masks, then,’ I replied. ‘It seems like you have those traits down to an art form.’
Sabine laughed. ‘Maybe I should.’
Eyes lingered on us as we walked through the gathering, and Sabine slipped her arm casually through mine.
Without looking at Aric, she said, ‘Two dancers don’t attract much attention, but it’s unusual for dancers to be accompanied by a Warrior. It might be best if you wait here. When Mira and I are done, we’re going to need a quick escape – perhaps you can deal with the guards before then.’
‘No.’ Aric’s voice was so firm that I shot him a surprised glance. ‘I stay with Mira.’
Sabine rolled her eyes at me, as if to say, Is he always this protective?
‘Try to keep your distance, then,’ she said with a sigh. And then: ‘Here.’
I took the glittering black mask that she offered me and tied it in place. I had to give Sabine credit: she certainly came prepared. Perhaps it was an Artisan trait.
‘I’ll enter the ballroom first,’ Aric murmured to me, ‘but I’ll be watching. If you need my help—’
‘I’ll find you,’ I promised. ‘Don’t worry about me.’
Aric gave me a look that made it clear that was easier said than done. But he strode inside, smoothly timing his entrance to coincide with another group of nobles. It looked as if they had come together; none of the Warriors gave him a second glance.
‘Do you know where it’ll be?’ I asked Sabine. ‘What we’ve been sent to steal?’
‘Oh yes.’ Sabine’s voice was low. ‘It’ll be in the most dangerous place possible. It’ll be with him.’
I followed her gaze across the ballroom, to where a young man lounged on a throne, dressed entirely in black: glossy knee-high boots, leather breeches, and a tailored jacket with glistening silver accents. He was at the centre of the celebration, but he appeared disinterested – almost apathetic, his fingers toying with his high collar. Then he shifted slightly, uncrossing his lean legs, and I saw his face properly for the first time.
‘You know the prince, do you?’
‘I suppose you could say that,’ I said, watching Cassius holding court in this strange castle. Then I glanced back at Sabine. ‘No other candidate would be tasked with stealing from a royal, would they?’
Sabine’s smile sharpened into something far more real.
‘I like you, Mira, so I’ll give you some advice.’ She leant in, her lips almost at my ear. ‘If you go through with this, then it’s not the emperor you should fear. The prince plays games with people, and they rarely end well.’
‘I think it’s too late to turn back now,’ I said with false bravado.
Sabine chuckled. ‘You’re right about that. Find a way to get him alone and take his crown – I’ll make sure he can’t come after us.’
Without further explanation, she turned and melted into the crowd. Though I’d watched her leave, it was impossible to pick out Sabine’s lithe form amongst the sea of colourful dancers.
The message was clear enough: she’d gotten me in. Now I was on my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mira
The golden crown winked at me tauntingly. It was the object of this task, but I couldn’t simply reach out and take it. This was a riddle, one that I had to solve.
I crossed the parquetry dance floor, slipping between nobles and servants alike, observing Cassius. As I did, I ran through everything I knew about the youngest prince. Palace life bored him; that was why he had sought me out that night. I was an oddity, a newcomer to this game – which made me unique. It made me intriguing.
And the prince craved adventure, challenge, novelty, anything to break up the monotony of dealing with his father’s court. Posturing fools, he had called them.
What had Sabine said? Cassius liked to play games. Well, maybe he could be tempted into playing one with me.
I remembered how easily my mother could slip into a new character, like donning a new cloak. Her words echoed in my mind: Who do you want to be, Mira?
Noblemen parted for me as I strode into the centre of the gathering. Cassius was surrounded by a few dozen other young men, all drinking and talking. As I looked on, one of them murmured something in his ear. He smiled back indolently, but then he looked up, his piercing eyes meeting mine. ‘And who might you be?’
‘Tonight’s entertainment, Your Highness,’ I said.
Cassius considered me a fraction too attentively. But then he waved a hand. ‘By all means,’ he said, his voice a low purr. ‘Entertain us.’
The other noblemen were watching me now, and the colourful crowd backed away to give me space. I recognised Sabine in the distance, saying something to the musicians. A handful of Warriors brought out full-length mirrors, which they set up in a semicircle before extinguishing all but three fire braziers.
Cassius’s gaze raked me up and down, and I smiled. I knew what I looked like, silhouetted by fire. Thanks to my time at the circus, I knew exactly how to enthral an audience.
At Sabine’s command, the musicians struck up a deep, resonating beat. I moved slowly at first, remembering all the times I’d watched my mother. When I dance, Mira, she had said, I am a conduit for the music.
And that was what I was now. A conduit.
The mirrors reflected multiple images of me: illusions that glimmered as brightly as flame, turning me into something beyond what I was. The drums increased in tempo until I matched every beat perfectly, the red of my slitted skirt like a slash of blood in the darkness.
I had never surrendered to the music like this before, and I understood now why mother had loved it so much. Something reckless drove me to accept a fire torch from Sabine. A gasp went through the audience as I increased my pace, the heat of the flames licking against my skin.
The dance was unpredictable, just as the beat was unpredictable – sometimes it was slow and sinuous, while other times it was filled with fast turns and heavy drumbeats. The fire turned me into a pillar of whirling crimson, sparks spilling out over the crowd.
And it was in that moment, as I twirled across the stage like a living flame, that my eyes locked with the prince’s.
The expression on his face was hard to interpret, but there was something covetous about the way he looked at me. I held his gaze as I allowed my movements to slow, matching the fading song.
Cassius clapped his hands together, his emerald cufflinks catching the light and gleaming like dark scales. ‘Very impressive,’ he announced. ‘A performance worthy of court dancers.’
I ducked my head, letting long dark hair shield my face. ‘Thank you, Your Highness. You’re too kind.’
‘Trust me,’ Cassius said, standing, ‘kind is something I’m not.’ He extended his arm.
I hesitated before taking it. His eyes narrowed, noting my reluctance.
‘Is this all yours?’ I asked, hoping to distract him.
Cassius followed my awed glance around the ballroom. ‘This is nothing,’ he said, leading me to a raised terrace.
Looking out over the lush grounds, I realised he was right. While the inside of the castle was impressive, it was nothing compared to the views from its hilltop vantage point. The entire garden was lit up to magnificence, continuing all the way to the sprawling city below.
‘What is this place?’
‘It’s known as Caleah Fortress,’ he told me as a servant approached with a tray of drinks. I had a glimpse of familiar brunette curls: Sabine. A glass vial gleamed as she slipped something into the prince’s drink before handing it over. Ten minutes, she mouthed.
Anxiety constricted my chest. Sabine had said she’d find a way to stop Cassius from coming after us after I stole his crown. Whatever she’d given him, I needed to get the prince alone before the effects took hold.
‘Apparently,’ Cassius continued, and I remembered we’d been discussing the fortress, ‘it was named after one of the old Aqualian rulers.’ He waved a hand. ‘Some queen or another.’
I hated the uncaring way he said it: as if the history of this castle meant nothing to him. I had been taught that Ravalia cherished other cultures, embracing their customs as our own. But I was swiftly coming to realise how naive I had been.
Cassius waited for me to take a sip before doing the same. ‘As much as I like a good mystery,’ he murmured, reaching for the ribbon of my mask, ‘you’re too intriguing to remain one for long.’
I stepped back before he could make contact, ignoring the way his eyes flashed as I did. This was a dangerous game I was playing, but part of me came alive with the thrill of it.
‘Your castle is incredible,’ I told Cassius, looking at him from beneath my lashes. ‘There’s so much more I would like to see. Perhaps you could give me a more . . . private tour?’
Cassius’s smile was slow and deliberate. He offered me his arm and we crossed back through the party. A Warrior came up and murmured something in his ear. Cassius said something back – too low for me to overhear.
The Warrior strode through the ballroom—
And took hold of Aric’s shoulders, dragging him forcibly towards the entrance. Aric didn’t try to struggle. Desperately, I searched the crowd for Sabine, but Cassius’s grip tightened on my arm, drawing my attention back to him.
‘Don’t be distressed,’ he said. ‘Any party I throw inevitably has a few trespassers.’
‘And what happens to them?’ I asked, my heart pounding at twice its usual speed as we climbed the central staircase.
‘Usually nothing final.’ I had the sense that Cassius was amused by the question. ‘Unless they do something to really annoy me.’
He guided me through a long hallway and towards a set of heavy wooden doors at the far end. The rooms beyond possessed the same contradictions as the rest of the castle: they were austere from the outside but sumptuous inside, with elaborately carved divans, lacquered furniture and floor-to-ceiling tapestries depicting Ravalian hunts. The rich shades of green gave the impression that I had stepped into a dense forest. Perhaps the effect should have been soothing, but there was something unnervingly reptilian about the colour.
Cassius strode into the bedchamber, placing his crown on the bedside table. My eyes darted nervously towards the four-poster bed, with its green-and-gold duvet and mountain of satin pillows. No one denied a royal, and if I’d miscalculated, I could be in serious trouble.
‘I’m surprised by your boldness,’ Cassius drawled. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to infiltrate my party, and certainly not to stage such a delicious performance.’
We were suddenly very close, so close that I could make out flecks of silver in his dark blue eyes. I tried to pull away, but he caught hold of my wrist.
‘Consider me flattered,’ Cassius continued, his lips curving into a sharp smile. ‘Not everyone goes to such elaborate lengths to get my attention.’
‘That wasn’t . . .’ I trailed off, trying to collect my thoughts. ‘I wasn’t trying to get your attention.’
‘Weren’t you?’ The smile was still on his lips as he said, ‘If you wanted to meet with me privately, Kasmira, all you had to do was ask.’
He released me and I stumbled backwards, my pulse racing. Cassius followed smoothly, stalking me like I was one of the doomed creatures on the tapestries around us.
‘You didn’t think I’d be able to tell?’ he murmured. ‘I knew who you were from the moment you first spoke to me. I was curious to see how it would play out.’ His gaze swept over me appraisingly. ‘I can’t say I’m disappointed with the result.’
I took another hurried step back, my hips connecting with the low stone wall of the balcony. As I risked a glance down, I realised exactly how high up we were. A gust of wind tore through my hair and buffeted my skirt.
‘Considering jumping?’ Cassius asked. ‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’
My eyes reluctantly returned to the prince. ‘I have to go,’ I said, too quickly. ‘I have to get back to the party.’
‘I doubt anyone will miss you,’ he said, inching closer. ‘As you saw, the man you came here with – the one who clearly isn’t Nikolas Atwood – is otherwise occupied.’
A shiver darted down my spine. ‘If you’ve hurt him—’
‘And why would I do that?’ Cassius asked, tilting his head so that his golden hair fell into his eyes. ‘I have no reason to hurt you or your companion. Not unless you give me one.’
It was a silken threat, and it rooted me in place.
‘Why did you really come here, Kasmira?’
So he didn’t know the details of the first Trial. That was something, at least – though it was far from reassuring. I met Cassius’s stare boldly, but I felt shaky with adrenaline.
‘You know,’ he mused, ‘I’ve never had much patience for enigmas.’
‘Maybe I like being an enigma,’ I breathed back. ‘Maybe I don’t want to be another of your family’s pawns.’
Cassius smiled, but there was something dangerous about the curve of his mouth. His body was inches from mine, all hard, sinewy muscle, and with a thrill of fear, I realised that I barely came up to his chin. It would be so easy for him to throw me to my death – to watch me break apart on the cobblestones below. His father might even reward him for it.
Cool fingers traced the line of my jaw, explorative and yet somehow challenging. Achingly slowly, Cassius brushed his thumb across my bottom lip.
Daring me to lean in, to close the gap between us—
And I did.
Threading my hand through his silky hair, I brought his face down to mine. He hesitated for only a second before wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me to him and claiming my mouth. Before I knew it, he was moving us backwards, steering me towards the large bed.
Cassius laid me back on it, oddly gentle. But as he looked down at me, he no longer appeared hungry or threatening or even nonchalant. If anything, he seemed curious.
‘Why are you really here, Kasmira?’ he asked again, making no move to come closer.
I smiled up at him without answering, shifting onto my knees. Like this, my face was level with his chest; I had to crane my neck to meet his intent stare. Seductress was a role I’d never played before, but judging by the look in his eyes, I was doing something right.
Without releasing his gaze, I untied the ribbon of my mask, my movements slow and inviting. Cassius watched it fall to the sheets. When he glanced back at me, it was with the same covetous expression he had worn during my dance.
‘No more talking,’ I instructed, placing a finger against his lips.
Heat sparked between us as Cassius kissed my finger and then my mouth, allowing himself to be tugged down next to me on the feather-soft duvet. I undid his jacket while he kissed a sensuous trail down my throat, coaxing a sigh from me.
It was tempting to lose myself in the agonising pleasure of his caresses. My head fell back against the pillows as his mouth inched lower, his fingers lower still. But I kept my eyes open, studying his reactions.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if Cassius was immune to whatever drug Sabine had given him, the first signs became apparent. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His magnetic gaze lost some of its sharp, cunning clarity. Then it widened. His hands dropped from my waist as realisation crossed his monstrously handsome face.
