At the far end of the room, a man began to play a stringed instrument that made a sound I could only compare to whale song. Talin leaned toward me, and I had to resist the urge to move closer to him. “It’s called a viol,” he explained. “It was my mother’s favorite instrument.”

“We have some stringed instruments back home, but they sound very different.”

I noticed that his eyes lit up whenever I mentioned Varenia. “It’s nice to hear more about where my mother came from,” he said. “I miss her stories about Varenia. They made me feel connected to it, even though I’d never been there.”

“I enjoy talking about it. It makes everything feel more real, like this isn’t just a dream.” Or a nightmare, I added silently.

The music from the viol was faster now, and many of the lords and ladies joined together to dance. Talin smiled at me. “I’d ask you to dance, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

“Thank you,” I said, both pleased that he wanted to dance with me and grateful he understood why I couldn’t. “I think I’ll just watch for a few minutes.”

Talin took my arm, and we walked to the end of the hall closer to the musician. A few of the ladies watched me and whispered behind their fans, no doubt gossiping. Spending time with Talin was dangerous in more ways than one, apparently.

“He uses a bow to strum the viol,” Talin said. “Of course, if I tried it would sound like a dying cat, but a skilled musician can make the most beautiful music you’ve ever heard.”

The dancers had picked up their pace in time with the music. They moved in a circle, hands clasped. We’d had dances in the meetinghouse in Varenia sometimes, though Zadie and I hadn’t been allowed to dance with the boys since we were children.

Talin glanced down at me. “Would you like to try, now that you have a better sense of the steps?”

I caught the eye of a woman standing across the room. There was something about her that was both familiar and foreign at the same time. Despite her rich clothing and intricate hairstyle, she seemed as out of place here as I felt. She observed me for a moment, then let her eyes rest on Talin’s arm, still entwined with mine, and gave the tiniest shake of her head.

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate,” I said finally.

“For some reason you don’t strike me as the kind of girl who worries about propriety.”

My stomach twisted. Now I was sure he’d heard Sami and me that night in the governor’s house; that he recognized me despite my fancy clothes and rehearsed manners. But he was right. I wanted to dance with him.

Without waiting for my answer, Talin led me to the center of the room. Another noble took my free hand, and as the viol continued to play, we moved in a slow circle to the right. I tried to copy what the other dancers did, but I couldn’t seem to catch the rhythm. Fortunately, the men supported my weight so that it hardly mattered what my feet did.

As the beat quickened, we began to move faster and faster. The bats looped down from wherever they’d roosted, illuminated by the massive chandelier filled with lunar moss. Tonight would be the full moon, I realized. That explained why everything was so bright.

The wine I’d consumed with dinner was beginning to take hold. I looked over at Talin. He was watching me with a smile on his face, the kind of smile that could make a girl forget about being ladylike. I felt warm all over, my heart pounding beneath the diamond cutout in my bodice.

Perhaps this was why Mother hadn’t wanted us to dance.

The music was playing faster than ever now, and somehow my feet seemed to know the steps on their own. I tipped my head back and laughed, so dizzy that I was sure the room would keep spinning long after I stopped. We whirled and whirled until suddenly, the music stopped, and I found myself clinging to Talin’s doublet to keep from falling.

“I’m sorry,” I said as his face came into focus.

“Don’t be.”

The muscles of his chest strained under my palms as he caught his breath, and I became very aware of his hands at my waist as I struggled for air against the stays of my bodice. He felt so solid and safe that I momentarily forgot my surroundings. Slowly, I leaned closer to him, like a tide pulled by the moon.

“See, my lady? This isn’t just a dream.”

My cheeks flamed under his gaze. “Isn’t it?”

Ceren’s voice over my shoulder cleared my head instantly. “There you are, my pearl.”

I whirled around and dropped into a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

His smile was strained. “It’s late, and I believe you’ve had a bit too much wine.” He held out his arm for me expectantly.

I nodded and bobbed a quick curtsy to Talin. “Good night.”

He bowed, his hair falling in damp waves that reminded me of the night we’d met. “Good night, my lady. I’m sorry you can’t stay longer.”

So am I. For an instant, I wished he would tell his brother the truth about who I was, so that Ceren couldn’t marry me. But Ceren’s pull on my arm was firm and insistent, and as I walked away, I realized the part of me that wanted to stay was the part I would never be able to listen to again.

      16

Ceren’s grip tightened as he pulled me down the hall toward my chambers. “What were you thinking?” he demanded when we reached my door. “Dancing with my brother in front of everyone, before you’ve even danced with me?”

“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t know. He told me—”

“I don’t care what he told you. Has all that seawater pickled your brain? Surely you could see the way people were watching you.”

My head was beginning to pound from the wine, and my arm ached from where Ceren’s hand still grasped it. He saw me wincing and released my arm. I took a step backward. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me, but I needed to imagine I was Zadie now, to behave the way Mother would expect me to. Otherwise I’d get myself killed before I did anything useful.

I bowed my head. “Please, forgive me.”

He released a deep breath through his nose. “I suppose it’s not your fault. Though I did warn you about my brother.”

I nodded. “You did. I understand what you meant now. I’ll be more cautious in the future.”

He took my hands in his. “Are you cold? Your fingers are like ice.”

I blinked at the change in his tone. It was fear, not cold, that so froze my hands, but I didn’t want him to think I was weak. “I left my wrap in the ballroom. I’ll ask Ebb to bring it for me later.”

“Very well. I’ll leave you now. Good night, my lady.”

“Good night.”

I hurried into my room, where Ebb was laying out my nightgown on the bed.

“Are you all right, milady?” she asked when she saw my face. “Did something happen?”

“I did something foolish and paid the price for it. I’ll know better next time.” I took a seat on the stool in front of the vanity, and she began to unpin my hair. As she massaged my scalp, I felt some of my fear begin to drain away. Ceren hadn’t actually done anything to me, and I could imagine it had looked rather bad, me dancing with his brother while he was away.

“Why don’t the princes get along?” I asked. “Did something happen between them?”

Ebb glanced at the small hole in the wall nervously.

I found a handkerchief and stuffed it into the opening. “Better?”

She sighed and waved me back down onto the stool. “From what I’ve heard, Prince Ceren was always a difficult child. His mother, Queen Serena, may she rest in peace, was a beautiful Ilarean lady who King Xyrus had loved from an early age. But Serena was frail and fragile, and Xyrus’s father, King Lazar, urged Xyrus to choose a Varenian bride, despite not marrying one himself.”

King Lazar would have been the king who refused to marry the replacement girl from Varenia—the man who’d cut off our water supply. I raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “What became of the Varenian girl sent to marry Lazar?”

She glanced down. “It’s not my place to say.”

My stomach soured. Ceren had said it didn’t go well for queens at New Castle. I couldn’t imagine a rejected princess had fared any better.

“Anyway,” Ebb continued, “King Xyrus defied his parents’ wishes and married Serena, who died while giving birth to Ceren. A year later, he married Queen Talia, who’d been living as a lady in the castle.”

“But why was Talia sent here in the first place, if Xyrus was already in love with Serena?” I asked.

“To tempt Xyrus away from her, I believe. Lazar’s fear—that Serena wouldn’t survive childbirth—had been well-founded. But everything seemed better after King Xyrus married Queen Talia and she gave birth to Prince Talin. Even the king’s health seemed to improve. She was a kind and generous queen, often visiting the poorest villagers and offering them food and blankets.”

“So she was allowed to leave New Castle?” I asked, surprised.

“Of course, milady. The king loved her so much he would have let her go anywhere.”

“And Varenia? Would he have allowed her to go there?”

Ebb shook her head as she dropped the hairpins into a little porcelain dish. “Oh, no. The king is very superstitious about Varenia. All the nobility are. Except Prince Talin.”

That must have been why Talin was the one who traveled to Varenia for Ceren. “Why?”