Wizard's Masquerade, page 17
She leant close as if imparting a great secret. “I had them specially designed with the king’s colours in mind—the blue and the gold.” She smiled and brushed Leyna’s cheek affectionately. “I thought you deserved to wear it on your special day…well, at least you get to show it off tonight.”
“Thank you, Mamma,” said Leyna sincerely.
“Oh, one more thing!” her mother exclaimed, rifling through one of the parcels and producing a large perfume bottle. It was made of purple glass, and the neck was tied with a black ribbon. “I found the most wonderful perfume today, and I think this could make all the difference in helping you attract attention.”
Before Leyna could object, her mother had pushed on the pump several times, showering her with a thick scent that might have been pleasant had there not been so much of it.
“Mamma!” she spluttered, trying to step out of the cloud of fragrance.
“Rose and lavender, just for luck,” said Lady Saunders, winking at them before hurrying away, the servant boys following behind.
Leyna suppressed a sneeze. Even after her mother had disappeared up the stairs, the airborne perfume droplets continued to fall around her like misty rain. As the last drops fell, Leyna turned to Grace, her shoulders defeated. “So, that was my mother.”
“She’s lovely,” said Grace, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve—one that Leyna had given to her earlier, embroidered with her initials, LS. “I can see the resemblance. Here, let me help—”
Grace proceeded to dab at Leyna’s neck, which had taken the brunt of the thick perfume.
“Is it that bad?” Leyna asked, lifting her chin as Grace patted her neck.
“No, it’s actually quite nice…just a little strong.”
“I’ll bet.
Grace smiled as she tucked the handkerchief away. “There, all done.”
They entered the Great Hall, which was well lit with large chandeliers that cast dancing shadows across the domed gold-gilt ceilings.
“Oh my,” said Grace, gloved hands flying over her mouth as she stared around the room in wonder. The hall was already full of people, and the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and revelry.
Even Leyna, who had attended several events when she’d lived at the castle, was impressed by how bright the large space was; thousands of candles must have been required for tonight’s event. Every chandelier beamed with glistening crystal, torches were at full blaze, and elegant candelabras cast a soft radiance around the room. The effect made the ball gowns sparkle, and even the men’s buckled shoes gleamed. The balcony doors sat open on the far side of the room, allowing the summer breeze to roll in, and the row of tall windows revealed a starry night sky.
It took her a moment to spot the feast tables, which instead of occupying the pride and centre of the room like they usually did on feast days, were all pushed aside to the peripheries of the hall. In their place, dozens of finely dressed couples were dancing smoothly to a waltz. The music was coming from the windowless side of the hall where a band of musicians was playing, partially blocked by a large screen.
“I thought this was a feast?” asked Leyna.
“So did I,” said Grace. “But a ball is even better, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” She generally liked dancing, but she wasn’t sure if her leg would be up for it.
“Do you know how to dance?” asked Grace.
“Yes, of course. I was always expected to dance at these sorts of events. Do you know how to dance?”
“Not really,” said Grace brightly. “But I’m sure I’ll figure it out!”
Leyna marvelled at Grace’s easy confidence as she obtained drinks from a passing servant. In Grace’s place, she would have felt nervous of making a fool of herself in a grand setting such as this.
“Should we go say hello to anyone?” Grace asked.
“Er, sure, why not?” Leyna took a hurried sip of wine. She felt better holding the cool glass; it gave her something to do with her hands.
“Oh look, there’s Quinn,” said Grace, lighting up and waving at the dark-haired wizard who was leaning against a pillar. “Quinn!” She hurried over happily, the silver skirts fluttering around her. Leyna followed more slowly, trying to take even steps and grateful she had forgone the dainty heels that Grace had picked out for her.
Quinn, who had been watching the dancing couples, straightened quickly when he spotted them, his eyes widening as he took in their appearance.
“I thought tonight was meant to be a feast,” said Grace. “When did it become a ball?”
“Since the queen got her way,” he said, kissing her hand. “You look beautiful. As do you,” he added shortly, turning to face Leyna. He offered to take her hand and kiss it.
“Thank you,” Leyna said stiffly. She took his hand but turned the greeting into a handshake, trying to keep the gesture as ladylike as possible. Given that she was wearing a dress, it was a breach in etiquette, but she bristled at the thought of Quinn kissing her hand, even if it was intended as a sign of respect. The gesture felt intimate, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him for the Renegade spell he’d cast on her, or his audacity to boast about his offer letter when she’d been lying in bed, injured.
Quinn’s thick eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he shook her hand—his grip too tight for her liking. Was it a show of dominance, or did he simply have a strong handshake?
Grace, oblivious to the tension between them, was turning in one spot to take in the ballroom. “Isn’t it all beautiful?” she fawned, taking hold of Quinn’s arm and hopping in excitement. “Aren’t we all beautiful? Quinn, come dance with me!”
“Oh no. I don’t think so.”
“Oh, but you have to, please Quinn.” Grace tugged on his arm. “I don’t know how to dance very well—but I know I can manage it if you help me.”
“It’s too early for dancing,” he objected.
“It’s never too early for dancing!” she laughed. “Tonight is like a dream come true. I’ve never danced in a ballroom before, let alone in the royal castle! Please, Quinn, please, it’ll be fun!”
Leyna couldn’t help but laugh as Grace dragged him off to the dance floor. Once they began to dance, however, Quinn’s obvious discomfort faded, and they did quite well together; he was a superb dancer, and Grace made up for what she didn’t know by simply being Grace. She giggled throughout the entire number, visibly unfazed by whether she’d made a mistake or what people might say. Leyna envied that.
Grace and Quinn were dancing their second number when Captain Marton appeared, his formal coat tight across his barrel chest.
“Captain Marton, sir.” Leyna saluted the Royal Guard’s captain, a gesture she immediately regretted performing in a ball dress, convinced that she looked ridiculous.
“You’re not on duty until tomorrow, Saunders,” said the captain, giving her a dismissive wave.
She instantly dropped her hand to her side, wishing she still had a drink to occupy her hands. As if on cue, a platter of glasses arrived, and Leyna took one from the servant gratefully.
“Ah, crystal,” said the captain approvingly, peering at the pale-gold wine in his crystal glass.
Leyna drew herself up. “Sir, I’m honoured to be serving under you. I understand I’m to report to you for my orders tomorrow—”
“Yes, yes, tomorrow,” said the captain, shaking his head. “Let’s not discuss work now, Saunders, this is a feast! Duty can wait. Try the wine.”
“Are you not on duty tonight, sir?” she asked, eyeing his uniform.
“Bah. I’m always on duty.” He swirled the pale-yellow liquid in his glass. “Try the wine, Saunders. Can you identify the vintage?”
He drank a mouthful of wine and held it thoughtfully, his cheeks puffed out and his eyes scrunched in effort as if trying to pinpoint the flavours.
Leyna sipped from her own glass. The wine was superb—citrusy and floral. She took another sip. With a hint of something sweet and fragrant…maybe honeysuckle?
Meanwhile, the captain went so far as to gargle the wine before swallowing it, attracting odd looks from those standing nearby. He finished his glass and clanked it down on the servant’s tray.
“Well?” he demanded, looking at Leyna.
“I think it tastes flowery,” she offered.
“It’s sweet,” he said, licking his lips. “It’s a sweet wine.” He glanced at the servant. “Am I right?”
The servant nodded.
Captain Marton made a disapproving sound. “It’s too sweet. Bring me some red.”
The servant scuttled away.
Leyna tried to ask about tomorrow’s itinerary, but the captain shook her off.
“Just report to my office in the morning, Saunders. Bring the other fledgling wizard with you. What’s her name—Gloria? Charity?”
“Grace,” said Leyna.
“Grace,” he repeated. “That’s right. She was very impressive in the maze, showed a bit more finesse than we normally see from wizards—and a little more restraint. I’ve seen enough fireballs to last me a lifetime, let me tell you.”
Leyna waited, hoping there was a compliment incoming for her. There was not.
“Anyway, Saunders, just try to enjoy the party—and for goodness’ sake, if you find anything better than this slosh, be sure to send it my way.”
“Yes, sir,” Leyna said dully, addressing the captain’s back as he walked away. She was left standing alone, observing the Great Hall, which was teeming with revelry.
The queen was near the dance floor, surrounded by a gaggle of court ladies, whilst the king was glued to the High Table on the dais, inseparable from the food and drink. The young prince was nowhere to be seen.
Quinn returned, looking strangely determined as he stopped in front of Leyna. “Your turn,” he said, extending his hand briskly to her.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s your turn to dance.” He kept his hand extended. “Grace’s orders.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Leyna coolly. “Where’s Grace, anyway?”
“Taking a break.”
Leyna craned to see where Quinn was pointing, just in time to see Grace slump down in exhaustion at a table nearby. She was flushed with exertion and had acquired a fan from someone, which she batted to cool herself, somehow still finding the energy to laugh and chat animatedly with those seated around her.
“She seems to be having fun,” said Leyna, feeling a pang of jealousy at how easily Grace was making new friends. Even growing up at the castle, Leyna had never felt like she belonged with the other noble ladies, and her friendships had been as superficial as they had at the Guild—friendly with everyone but close to no one.
Quinn jerked his head at the dance floor. “Come on, Grace made me promise to dance at least one song with you. And you know she won’t leave us alone until that happens.”
Leyna’s dislike of Quinn warred with her hope of being friends with Grace. “Fine,” she said. “Just one dance…for Grace.” She took his offered hand. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Don’t you like dancing?” asked Quinn as he led her over to where the other couples were lining up.
“Actually, I quite like dancing.”
Quinn shot her a perplexed look but said nothing.
As the music started up, the men bowed low to their partners, and Leyna and the other ladies curtsied in response.
Despite being a better dancer than Grace, Leyna couldn’t help but feel that her movements with Quinn were disjointed—and it had nothing to do with her injury; it was gentle contra dance and did not demand too much of her leg.
“Take it easy on me,” said Quinn as they turned in a circle. “It’s hard enough dancing without you leading.”
“Well, only one of us should be leading,” retorted Leyna as they changed direction, turning the other way.
“Agreed,” said Quinn, but he continued to try and lead.
They spent the next minute in silence, and Leyna tried to avoid looking at the wizard more than was necessary. At such close proximity, his dark eyes unsettled her, and her chest felt heavy as she recalled the memory of his wolf form pinning her to the ground.
“I forgot to congratulate you the other day,” she began, but then had to turn and walk in the opposite direction, feet in time with the rhythm.
“For what?” he called, standing in line with the other men who waited for their partners to return.
She turned and walked back towards him slowly, wearing a strained half smile. “For winning the Wizarding Guild’s Maze Exam. What an achievement.”
“Er, thank you.” He took her hand as she reached him and pulled her closer, matching the other couples. They now moved together.
There was a tense silence between them, and she tried to avoid meeting his eyes more than was necessary.
“It could have gone either way, you know,” she finally said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, just because you came first in the maze exam doesn’t mean you were the best wizard in our class. It just means you outlasted the rest of us.”
He shrugged. “I know that.”
“There were too many of us in that maze. It took more than skill to come out on top—it came down to luck.”
“Agreed.”
Leyna felt encouraged to go on. “So, what I don’t understand is how you managed to hunt everyone down like that and still have enough magic to nearly blast me to oblivion.”
The music continued, but Quinn stopped dead in his tracks, bringing them to a standstill.
“What?”
She could hear the anger in her voice as she continued. “Quinn, I rationed my magic for the entire exam. I was careful. Even when duelling other wizards, I held back as much as I dared. And yet, at the end, when it was just you and me in the maze, my magic was depleted, while you still had plenty to spare. How is that possible?”
Quinn released her as if she had physically burnt him.
“That’s because I hardly used any magic,” he said.
“Oh, really? Then how did you manage to hunt all the other competitors down?”
“I didn’t.”
Leyna frowned. He wasn’t making any sense. The whole aim of the Maze Exam was to fight the other wizards until it was down to the last man standing. If Quinn hadn’t been targeting the other students, then what had he been doing? “But, then how did you hunt us—”
“I never said I hunted anyone down.” His voice was low and dangerous. “At least, not until it was just the two of us left.”
“But…then how did you make it to the top two? I don’t understand.”
“Easy. I just avoided everyone.”
The couples continued to dance, manoeuvring to avoid colliding with them, but neither she nor Quinn paid them any attention.
Leyna couldn’t believe her ears.
“Are you telling me…that you just ran, and hid, for the entire time we were in the maze?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“In wolf form?”
He nodded.
Leyna rubbed her eye, uncaring if the makeup smudged. “That’s ridiculous. That’s…that’s cheating.”
“No, it’s not. It’s within the rules.”
“Sure, but the point of the Maze Exam is for us to duel each other, and to demonstrate our skills in magical combat—”
“Not just combat,” interjected Quinn. “All magical skills. Charms. Defence. Enchantments. Herbalism. Stealth. And it’s not against the rules to avoid using magic altogether.”
“So, you just turned into a wolf and hid in the bushes?” She gave a derisive laugh. “What kind of a wizard are you?”
Quinn blanched for a moment before his face turned dark.
“I guess I’m the kind of wizard who doesn’t want to hurt anyone with Renegades,” he retorted.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be casting forbidden spells, then!”
“I said I was sorry for that.”
It was true, he had. But still. She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.
“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, Leyna, but clearly, you have a bone to pick with me.”
“Quinn—”
“Leyna, I don’t know what you want from me. I know you don’t like me, but can we just leave it at that? Magic never came as easily to me as it did to you—and who cares if I came in first? It doesn’t matter. Everyone knows that you’re the better wizard.”
She was too alarmed by the distress in his eyes to register the compliment. She had the distinct impression that a dam had broken, because the emotions were pouring from Quinn like floodwater, a mix of pain and desperation lacing his voice as he spoke more words than she’d ever heard him string together.
“Especially now,” he continued, speaking more to himself. “You think I took something from you? But I didn’t. We might both be huskarls, but I’m not a proper wizard. I can’t cast combat spells ever again. The wolf’s form is all I have left.”
Shoulders hunched, he stood glaring at his feet, the intensity radiating off him.
Leyna could only gape at him, too taken aback by his outburst to comprehend him. After all these years of feeling frustrated by Quinn, she felt like she’d finally poked the bear, only to find that the formidable beast had been a wounded creature all along. She had never expected to see him so vulnerable, especially not in such a public display, and she wished that she could take back her words.
But it was too late. The surrounding couples were no longer dancing, and were listening keenly to their argument.
Quinn’s eyes flicked left and right like a trapped animal, as if only just becoming aware of the people watching. Before she could think of what to say, he gave a snort of frustration and turned on his heel, pushing through the crowd as he stormed away.
She stared after him, her earlier anger replaced with disbelief.
But he’s always been so arrogant. And so rude…
Pleasant music began to play, which was her first indicator that the music had ceased at all. Conscious of the onlookers, she glanced around, hoping to see a friendly face. Spotting a table piled with food, she headed towards it. Her hunger had vanished, but she needed something to do to calm her nerves, and ladling cold potato salad into her bowl seemed as good a way as any to dodge the whispering nobles.
