The Pyramid Waltz (6 page)

She reached the pyramid, but he jerked away. Crowe arrived and grabbed for him, but he leaned far to the left and rammed his pyramid into his own belly.

The king had nearly reached them. Someone bumped into Crowe, and he dropped the suddenly limp courtier to the ground. Katya stepped forward, over the downed man, shielding him from the view of the crowd as Crowe bent over him. “Fetch this man some help!” she commanded.

The courtiers and nobles turned. “What’s wrong with the poor devil?” Da asked.

“He needs a physician!” Crowe said. The courtier was at his feet, unmoving, doubled over with one arm shielding his face. “He’s overcome. Where have all the damned servants gone?”

“Never around when you need them,” Katya drawled. A few people chuckled with her. No servants were a blessing. If the courtier was dead, any regular servant might panic.

Crowe gestured to two of his fellow pyradistés. “Let’s take him to my study.” The selected two stooped beside the downed man and lifted him.

“Perhaps it’s the excitement,” Earl Lamont said. The pyradistés bore the man away, Crowe right behind them.

“Yes.” Da glanced at Katya out of the corner of his eye. “That must be it.”

Katya shrugged and put her bored face back on through force of will. The downed courtier knew about the Aspect. He knew Katya’s family shared something with Yanchasa, if not why. To control a monster, each Umbriel had to become one. But how did he know? She wanted to run to Crowe’s office.

Da caught her shoulder. “Remember the ball,” he whispered. “You have many duties. Leave Crowe to his.”

Katya could only nod. The Order would have to wait, it seemed. After all, she had a very important
dance
to attend first.

Dawnmother stood back and fluffed the voluminous gown. “This is one of the best.”

Starbride made a face as she studied the dress, this one a mixture of smoky browns. “I look like milky tea.”

“It goes with your skin.”

“Red goes with my skin. This goes with a cake.”

Dawnmother’s eyes twinkled. “I think cinnamon coffee is a better fit.”

Starbride put on her best withering look. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“Don’t be so gloomy. You might get a chance to speak with the royal family…again.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure Princess Katyarianna will have a lot of fun at my expense.”

“You told me she
wasn’t
laughing at you.”

“I don’t know, do I?” But she could guess, and what she guessed hurt more than the chance of ridicule. Katyarianna Nar Umbriel would ignore her, or worse yet, not remember her.

“Cling to the wall,” Dawnmother said. “There’s bound to be more than one person who doesn’t fit in. Maybe you can form an alliance of the unallied.”

“Unless the other misfits are dying to prove they
aren’t
misfits by standing at the edges of conversations and trying to look as if they’re part of them. I’ll probably retreat to a quiet corner until I can leave.” Maybe one of the leering courtiers would make a pass at her, and as much as she hated it, she could talk to him or her for a little while. “All right, do the hair.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

When Dawnmother finished curling and pinning Starbride’s long hair on top of her head, she took a small, flat box from the chest of drawers. “I dare any of the other ladies to match this.”

Starbride gazed at the diamond and crystal necklace, a set of interlocking geometric shapes that resembled snowflakes from one direction and stylized dancers from another. It was a fascinating, eye-bending creation, and she loved it, but at the moment, she didn’t have much faith in it. “These are the richest people in the world, Dawn.”

“Rich they may be, Star, but their fathers are not jewelers, and even if those fathers
were
jewelers, they wouldn’t have the skill of yours.” She fastened the necklace around Starbride’s neck and then secured the matching diamond earrings.

Starbride touched the necklace and picked up a mirror so she could admire the glittering pinpoints of light. “You’re right. They don’t have his skill, but people from Marienne have commissioned pieces from him in the past.”

“He wouldn’t give them the same quality he’d give his daughter. Remember that when they’re panting over it, and be smug.”

Starbride had pictured a horde, but the sheer number of people swarming the Courtiers Ball exceeded her imagination. She’d glimpsed the ballroom on one of her forays and remembered it as cavernous. The glittering throng made it seem like a closet.

She heard multiple strains of music but couldn’t spot the players. The people nearest to the doors stood and talked to one another, and beyond them was a hint of movement that suggested pockets of dancing. Giant chandeliers sparkled overhead, and four sets of doors on the other side of the room were thrown open to let the heat onto the balcony beyond. It was a huge palette of color, the women in the muted tones the queen favored, and the men in the bolder, grander jewel tones that put Starbride in mind of an enormous flock of birds.

With a deep breath, she melted into the crowd. She couldn’t help but be jostled, and those responsible would glance at her with apologies on their lips that turned into varying expressions of surprise as they focused on her. Whether their surveys were polite, curious, or rude, she quickly grew tired of it, even the covetous glances at her jewelry.

A quiet corner presented itself, though it wasn’t where she expected. A few people strolled on the outdoor balcony that ran the length of the ballroom, making long shadows in the light pouring from the room. Starbride moved away from the doors to watch the dim lights winking from Marienne below.

“You look familiar.” The voice behind her eased her loneliness before she even turned.

In the light of the doorway, Katya’s cobalt blue coat made her blue eyes shine. Silver buttons began at her right shoulder and curved nearly to the center of her chest before continuing to her waist. The coat fit tightly to her trim upper body and then hung loose and open to mid-thigh. Silver embroidery wound around her standing collar and then wandered to the buttons, descending in a vine-like pattern, with echoes of the same pattern at the hem and cuffs. Her tight white trousers gleamed between the blue coat and the black boots, and as she stepped closer, her sapphire earrings winked in the softened light, as did the slender sapphire and silver diadem that encircled her forehead, the ends of it lost in her loosely pinned-up hair. Starbride was tempted to ask her if she was a dream.

Katya tapped her chin. “Yes, very familiar. Are you a new meringue at this court?”

“You’re much mistaken, Highness.” Starbride held her arms out. “According to my mother, I am a frothy cup of cinnamon tea, heavy on the cream.”

“Well, in your mother’s defense, that would be a good cup of tea.”

Starbride fought to hide a smile. The dusty girl in the hallway seemed miles away from this dazzling creature. “Thank you, Highness. I’ll write her and tell her Your Highness said so.” She turned back to the night.

Katya leaned on the parapet beside her and looked toward the lights of the city and the blackness of the countryside beyond. “You’re not going to forgive me for not admitting who I am right away, are you?”

“I thought I’d found a friend.” The words were out before she could stop them, and she had to face Katya’s stare.

“What makes you think you haven’t?”

Starbride’s irritation vanished. “Thank you,” she waited a heartbeat, “Highness.”

The moment stretched, the music from the ball echoing behind them. Starbride’s neck itched under the gaze of who knew how many watching eyeballs. With Katya on the balcony, there had to be quite a crowd.

“What’s keeping your hair up?” Katya asked.

“A million pins and my maid’s willpower.”

“Not those little butterfly clips?”

“Those are just decorations.”

“The sugar for your tea? I must meet your mother someday.”

“She’d dress you like a blueberry pie.”

Katya sputtered a laugh and turned it into a loud cough.

So, they
were
being watched. “How many guards will attack me if I thump you on the back?”

“About a half dozen.” Her eyes widened as she glanced at Starbride again. “Oh, look there.”

“What? Where?”

Katya reached toward Starbride’s face with all the speed of a tortoise, and she had a sudden thought about Katya’s reputation, but she couldn’t move away. The slowness of the movement, as if Katya sought to creep up on a hare, caught her. It said, “I’m giving you a million chances to flee.” At last, Katya’s fingers brushed Starbride’s jaw and slipped past to tug lightly at her hair.

“You have an escapee.” A butterfly clip lay in Katya’s palm.

“My hair doesn’t like being restrained.” Starbride felt her cheeks warm as she stared at the clip. She closed Katya’s fingers over it, noticing for the first time the signet ring on Katya’s left forefinger, a hawk clutching a rose. “Keep it. A few butterflies would look wonderful in your hair.”

“I almost never wear anything in it, except when forced by my mother.”

“We have something in common.”

“Probably more than you think.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m supposed to be boring you with stories about hunting.”

“Is that what everyone expects?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you enjoy hunting?”

“I must.” It was almost a whisper. “Shall we dance?”

“Oh, um.” Starbride thought of Katya’s arms around her and was glad of the shadows that could hide a blush. “We could, but it’s so crowded in there.”

“We could dance out here.”

“I can barely hear the music.”

“Don’t know how to dance?”

Starbride nearly stomped her foot. “Of course I do! I’m pretty good at it.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. I’m excellent at it, if it’s your toes you’re worried about.”

“I suppose you had to learn from an early age.”

“It’s the law.”

Starbride tsked. “It’s not.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to go back into that crowd, either.” Katya stared into the night but didn’t appear to see it, seeming lost all of a sudden. Or trapped.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m just a little worried. I have a, um, sick friend.”

“Oh.” Starbride curled her fingers under to keep from patting Katya’s arm. “I’m sorry. Can’t you leave early and go see him? Her?”

“No, no, he doesn’t want people to know he’s sick. Someone might try to take…advantage of the situation. Politically.”

“Ah. And if someone saw you leaving before the ball is over…?”

“They’d talk about it, or worse yet, follow me.”

Starbride’s heart went out to Katya even as the suspicious part of her nature warned her to be careful of tricks. Katya radiated sincerity, but Starbride could tell from the slight pauses that she was leaving something out. Still, if the sick friend was a secret, Katya would have to be careful what she told anyone, Starbride included. “I’m very sorry. That’s terrible, to know something and yet be unable to do anything about it. I could distract everyone, and you could slip away.”

Katya turned, pleased surprise lighting her face. “How?”

“I could…light a tapestry on fire!”

Katya gave another of those bursts of laughter that she turned into a cough, and Starbride had to wonder who she was hiding her mirth from.

“Or I could accept your offer to dance and help you waste some time.”

“That would be wonderful, but I have to warn you about—”

“Highness?” a voice behind them asked.

Katya’s face smoothed to blankness so quickly it sent a trill of alarm along Starbride’s spine. They both turned toward the doors. “Yes, Lady Hilda?” Katya said.

Lady Hilda’s red hair was so artfully arranged on top of her head that Starbride’s mother would have wept in envy. She wore the same sort of frothy creation as all the women, but it floated around her, hugging her curves here, draping there, highlighting the good, and hiding the not-so-good. She didn’t look at all like a cupcake. The neck of her gown plunged to the point of indecency, pointing past her breasts and showing off what had to be half of them. Starbride wondered how she kept them from tumbling out.

Lady Hilda didn’t spare Starbride a glance. She played with the flounces of her dress, a blue that matched Katya’s coat, and her eyes held a promise of lust that would have been a joke had she not been so good-looking. Her stance and expression said she had the experience to back up any offer her eyes made.

Starbride sneaked a look at Katya and saw only bored resignation, an expression that caused satisfaction to well in her, almost to the point where she beamed. Princess Katyarianna Nar Umbriel had come to the balcony to speak with Starbride, despite the hideous dress and without even a whisper of promised sex. This woman bored Katya, even for all her obvious physical charms.

“Why don’t you come back inside?” Lady Hilda said. “Your father is looking for you.”