What is Hidden (21 page)

He was right, I realized.

“I’m pleased you have a good grasp of the basics. However, you won’t create masterpieces if you are forever playing it safe. When someone asks you to prove yourself, you must also stretch yourself and take risks, otherwise while you might prove something to another, you prove nothing to yourself.”

“I understand,” I said softly, looking down.

“Don’t sound so glum.” He lifted my chin up. “I did say I was pleased with your work, and I would be very pleased to have you continue to be in my workroom.”

I beamed at him. “Thank you, sir. I would like that very much.”

“Good. And how’s your work with Signore Joch coming along? He seems to be a bit more testy as of late.”

Sighing, I said, “I’m not sure. I thought I was making progress, but he’s always so . . . stiff and abrasive. I don’t know what he thinks of my work. All he does is grunt at me.”

“He hasn’t kicked you out yet, which is more than I can say for others that have tried. Give him time, Miss Evelina. I think you’ll get through to him eventually.”

I doubted it, but I wasn’t going to give up just yet.

* * *

“Why are you just standing around?” Vera screeched at me as I floated into the kitchens later that day.

“I—”

She cut me off before I could form a response, not that I’d had any clue how to respond.

“You’re supposed to be helping prep for the balls, and the first one is tomorrow! Didn’t anyone tell you? You’ll be in the first shift of servers and will need to leave an excellent first impression.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d keep you serving for both, but I can’t have you seen out on the floor for that long. Someone might think you’re being over-worked. Instead, you’ll be inside the kitchen, working on the dishes. You did so well with them last time.”

Grinning happily to herself, she sauntered away, having delivered the bad news. I don’t know why she delighted in doing that, but it seemed to just make her day every time she could ruin mine.

“Great,” I muttered to myself, my good mood deflated. I’d been hoping to attend at least one of the elaborate masquerade balls, but it looked like that wouldn’t be possible this year. Instead of dancing with handsome beaux, I’d be keeping company with the suds and crusty dishes. Fantastic.

“Aw, were you hoping to have a chance at the prince, after all?” Jeza called from her cutting board full of badly sliced tomatoes. “I’m telling you now, sweet lady, you’re better off hiding in the kitchens.”

“Why would I even think I had ‘a chance at the prince,’ ” I mocked, “at the ball?” I was tired of Jeza’s meaningless accusations.

“You haven’t heard yet?” she squealed, immediately abandoning her post to come gossip. “The king has decided it’s time for the prince to settle down. I think there was some drama in the family or something. I haven’t got all the details on that yet.” She sounded frustrated about not knowing every minute detail about their royal lives. “But the prince will actually be
dancing
at the ball. I think he might even be in disguise! You know, actually have some inch of his skin visible, so as not to skew the results or something silly like that.”

I’d never had my sights set on the prince, but I had to admit I was disappointed that I wouldn’t even have a chance to dance with him, if for no other reason than to have a good story to tell. Or something to rub in Jeza’s face, should I get the chance and she did not.

Jeza seemed to read the disappointment that caused my shoulders to sag. “It really is a shame that you’ll miss out.”

I shrugged it off, trying to act like it didn’t bother me.
“It’s not like I won’t be there to see him,” I pointed out. “I’ll still be serving. I’ll be out there. I bet I’ll still get to see him.”

That stopped her for a moment. “But seeing isn’t the same as touching,” she finally said. “And as a server, you’ll have
no
chance of dancing with him. You’ll be all but invisible to him.”

She grinned triumphantly. I kept my voice calm as I responded. “I guess it’s a good thing I never wanted that ‘chance’ at him in the first place, isn’t it?”

I left her then; I was afraid I probably would have tried to slap her. I don’t know how she got under my skin, but she seemed to know exactly how to irritate me.

I couldn’t go far because dinner was under an hour away, and I’d be needed back in the kitchens. So I just stalked back and forth in one of the hallways, silently fuming. I shouldn’t let her get to me like that, I knew, but I couldn’t help it.

I’d even stopped by the runners’ parlor again to see if they could distract me, but they were so busy they didn’t even have time to flirt. And for the first time they had something to tell me about the Chameleon. They had only rumors, but it was something.

What better time for the Chameleon to use his stolen masks than during a Masquerade? If he’d managed to steal a fine enough mask, he could easily alter it just enough to avoid being suspicious and slip inside. No one would be the wiser that the nobleman in front of them was no nobleman at all.

That’s what made the Chameleon so dangerous.

* * *

Later that night as I was waiting for Aiden to come to my room for our nightly combat practice, I was so tightly wound I could barely sit still. On top of the threat of the Chameleon making an appearance, I just couldn’t let Jeza’s comments go.

“Argh!” I pounded my fist against the stone wall in anger. This action, of course, did nothing to the wall and probably bruised my hand.

“Whoa! What happened to you?” Aiden asked, clearly concerned as he stood at my doorway. I’d taken to just leaving the door open for him. It wasn’t as if anyone else came down here.

I spun around to face him and hid my sore fist behind my back, embarrassed. “It’s just me thinking I can take on the wall. You know how I can be,” I said weakly, trying to make a joke out of it.

He rolled his eyes at my lame attempt and held out his hand. “Give me your hand, my lady.”

“Why? I beat that wall down. I totally won that match.”

“Evie.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” I protested, but he reached around me and took my hand in his. He massaged the tendons gently, and oddly enough, that helped relax the tension in the rest of my body. So I let him continue for as long as he wished, and when he stopped, I didn’t pull my hand away immediately.

I flexed my fingers experimentally. “What did you do? I feel so relaxed now.”

He chuckled. “It’s something my mother taught me a
long time ago. She’d get stressed, and I’d do the same thing to her hand. It relaxed her almost immediately every time. I don’t know why.”

“Well, you have my permission to do that whenever you want,” I said glibly, “because that felt all sorts of good.”

He chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that. But back to the original question, why did you feel the urge to take on the stone wall?”

“Would you believe it offended me with its general gray gloominess and I couldn’t take it anymore?”

He laughed. “Not a chance.”

“I got my duty details for the balls,” I said, sighing. “I won’t be able to attend as a guest, apparently. I’d known it was too much to hope for. But I’d wanted to sneak in to at least one of them.”

His face fell. Apparently he’d been hoping the same thing. “Well, that’s certainly a good enough excuse to beat up a poor innocent wall. I’m being forced to go. You’ll probably see me all dressed up like a peacock.”

I giggled. “And what a fine peacock you’ll make.”

“It’s going to be ridiculous, just you wait. My mask is pretty great, though. At least that’ll be one part of my appearance I won’t despise.”

“Yeah?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.

Masquerade masks were something else altogether. They were much more elaborate than day-to-day apparel, covered with feathers, jewels, and all sorts of detailed carvings and engravings. Much fancier than even the formal mask I was making for Milo. That would be one benefit of being a server—I’d get to see everyone’s finery. If I’d been a guest, I’d probably miss the grand majority
of it because I’d be forced to stay in the lower levels of the ballrooms. The best ones were in the upper quarters, and I was going to find a way up there if it was the last thing I did that night.

“Yes, I’m told I look very dashing in it,” he said with a hint of pride.

“By whom? Your mother?” I teased.

His cheeks tinged pink, and I knew I’d hit the target. “You’re just jealous,” he retorted.

“I am,” I said honestly. “I could never look as dashing as you.”

“That’s true,” he said. “You’d be more of the beautiful type, I suppose.”

“You suppose. Thanks,” I said flatly, still teasing.

“Okay, I
know
you’d be beautiful. Is that better?” he asked.

I pretended to think it over. “I suppose that will have to do.”

“Glad to be of service, my lady.”

“What’s so bad about the rest of your outfit?” I asked, curious.

He grimaced. “It’s . . . really elaborate. I don’t know how I’m going to move.”

I laughed. “You can hang out with me, then, and just stand in one place.”

“Believe me, if I thought I could get away with it, I would.”

We both knew what he wasn’t saying. If he was seen socializing with a serving girl, he’d get into serious trouble with his father. The purpose of these balls was for match-making. Those with matches enjoyed the general atmosphere and frivolity, but those unmatched were supposed
to find a potential desirable candidate. If Aiden were suspected of sabotaging any chances he had at finding a match, oh, he’d pay for it with his parents.

“Do I get to help you find potentials?” I asked.

I was surprised to note that he looked offended. “I’m . . . not really planning on looking that hard,” he admitted.

“Ah,” I said. “There’s already someone you’ve got your sights set on?”

“I don’t have a choice in the matter,” he said flatly, then abruptly changed the subject. “Do I get a chance to fight you tonight, or did the wall already take the best out of you?”

“Dream on,” I scoffed. “What have you got for me to learn tonight?”

“Well, tonight I thought we’d switch to some leg work for a bit. Give your arms a rest.”

“In other words, exhaust me so I can barely stand tomorrow,” I said bitterly.

He bit back a grin. “It builds your strength.”

“Yeah, right. You just like to see me suffer.”

“Guilty as charged. Now, I’m not going to teach you how to kick, because odds are that would open you up to more vulnerable attacks than anything else. Also, kicks are not as effective in a skirt.”

I ignored his last comment. “Okay, so no kicks. Sounds boring.”

“Please. When have I ever been boring?”

“Would you like me to make a list?” I asked cheekily.

“Yes, please, actually,” he shot back, unwilling to back down. “I want to know when I have done such an offensive thing as bore you.”

“You’re going off on a tangent. I thought you were teaching me something, sire.”

He laughed. “Fine, fine. All right, instead of kicks, I’m going to teach you all the cheap tricks.”

“I know the cheap tricks already,” I said impatiently. “That was how I beat you in the first place, remember?”

He shook his head and held up two fingers. “First, the fact of you beating me is still up for debate, and second”—he lowered one finger so that the one remaining was pointing right in my face—“you hardly know all the cheap tricks.”

I glared at his offending finger and reached to grab and shove it out of my direct line of vision, but as I reached, he swung his leg around to tap the back of my left knee, making my leg buckle out of reflex. Then when I grabbed his arm for balance, he managed to somehow knock me on my knees and spin me around so that I was facing away from him and he had me in a headlock.

“W-what was
that?
” I sputtered.

“Another dirty trick. Want me to show you?” He loosened his grip on me and helped me up from the ground.

We spent the next couple of hours knocking each other down, and I was sure I was going to have a few bruises in the morning to show for my efforts. But heaven help the next person who stuck their finger in my face.

T
here were three main Masquerade
Balls at the end of the tenth month every year, to celebrate the coming of winter and the end of summer. I’d never attended them, but I loved to make the masks for them. I’d never had any client so high ranking that any mask of mine was worn to the palace’s masquerade, but the districts held smaller celebrations of their own.

In addition to celebrating the seasons and the match-making that took place behind the scenes, it was the biggest opportunity for mask makers to show off their skills. All three nights were extremely elaborate, and each one more so than the previous.

The first night was the least elaborate, though only in comparison to the other two. When pitted against any other celebration from the rest of the year, that first night outshone them in every area.

The theme of the first night was to bid farewell to the hard and hot days of summer and to celebrate the end of the harvest. Growing up near the fishing ports, I’d learned that the fish came in seasons as well. The particular types
of fish that our island thrived on migrated to warmer waters during the cold winter months, and most fishermen used the off-season to repair their tools and boats. Some did chase the fish south and sent back their catches, but that was a small percentage. Regardless of which group the men fell in, they had plenty to do during the winter months.