Chapter 10
Mikael
“Letter, sire.”
I looked up from my books, noting the young face of Gnalos, my personal valet walking through the door of my study.
“Set it on my desk. Then leave.” I flicked a hand at the edge of the desk.
Nodding dutifully, he sat the sealed letter down, turned, and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
I was behind on my work by weeks, there’d been a crop shortage in the easternmost region that’d taken me far too long to settle. I still had to look over the ledgers for last month’s harvest, and finally decide what I meant to do with the matter of recognizing a new baron. But the moment I saw the blood seal upon the letter Gnalos had set before me I grinned.
Setting everything else aside, I snatched up the letter and touched my thumb to the wax seal. Awed by the power yet simplicity of her spell.
Magic was revered in Demonia, but only magic performed by the Arcane tower. Her kind of magic was taboo. It was magic born of both light and darkness. In fact, it was considered treason for her to practice it. Damian had known that, yet he’d allowed her to return often enough to the middle lands to grow in her studies.
The letter turned to ash, and in its place, glowing blue runes hung in the air. Her magic was light.
I smiled, tracing the shapes of the runes. Only I could read her notes, no one else would be able to make sense of them, I knew because I’d tested the strength of her spell on many of my servants. Everyone read something completely different, and all of it was benign.
But I would protect her anonymity at all costs. Blue was the daughter of my enemy, thus, she was the enemy of my people. That would not change. Not now anyway. No one could know I received intel from her.
True to her word she’d kept me apprised of all that she did. Each assassination she performed, each noble she spoke with, right down to Damian’s every move.
Her letters were polite, concise, and to the point.
And I was starting to resent that.
It’d been two years since our fateful meeting, she’d not returned since and hadn’t yet called for me. I was kept apprised of any pertinent information by correspondence, though the letters were dry and always straight to the point.
I snorted. Me, a prince, wishing to be called upon by my hated rival’s bastard. I must be out of my mind.
Then again, I’d rarely met anyone as stimulating as her. I kept my “eyes and ears” peeled to all her comings and goings. Much of it was benign, some of it was not and I began to note a pattern of quiet destruction left in her wake that could never be tied to her unless, of course, one knew where to look for the breadcrumbs.
When I read her note this time, however, I couldn’t keep from grinning.
“The little bird finally calls for me. Gnalos!” I cried with a slap of my hand on my desk.
My obedient servant came in less than a second later. “Master?”
“Tell the maids to ready my wardrobe and bags, it seems Prince Damian is to host a ball in honor of the emperor’s Coronation Day Jubilee.”
Prince Damian hadn’t bothered to issue me an invitation, even knowing that every other prince would show. It would be a great dishonor if I too hadn’t shown.
I’d never given much thought about the pet Prince Damian had kept on such a tight leash, but lately, she seemed to be all I could think about.
Reaching for my cane, I headed toward the kitchen.
~*~
Blue
Two weeks later and the grand ball was finally at hand. The great hall had been completely transformed. Not by magic, but by the hands of dutiful servants who hadn’t slept day or night to ensure that this event would be the crowning glory of the Southern kingdom.
In my previous life when the ball had occurred Father had received a massive boon by having the reclusive Emperor Claude make a rare showing. Several of the unattached houses had also finally thrown their hat into the ring because of the emperor’s obvious esteem.
Father had secured a powerful network of allies in that time.
Prince Mikael, however, had lost favor with even some of his staunchest supporters for not making an appearance. Ridiculous how a single failure to attend a ball could have caused him to lose so much support, but then that was the way of the nobility. This night had been a great victory for Father.
I’d not out and out issued an invitation to Prince Mikael; I’d merely done my duty as a citizen of the empire and had alerted him to all the facts. Knowing the prince as I now did, it was easy to see why he’d not heard of the jubilee in the first timeline, Prince Mikael tended to live in his library, a natural recluse, he rarely made a fuss at events. Missing out on a ball or two was nothing to a noble of his status. Except when it came to the emperor’s jubilee.
I gazed at myself in the mirror while my attendant Mahtilda stared at me. “How would you like me to style you this evening, Miss?”
Last time I’d dressed in dragon armor, black on black. Covering my face in a mask. Wishing to look intimidating and unapproachable.
I stared at the tumbled mass of my pale blue, nearly white hair curling almost prettily around my elfin face.
“Make me look—” I thought of Prince Mikael, I’d not seen him in two years. I had to secure my approval with him. I’d shared intel with him and had tried to prove myself a useful ally, but I was still unsure whether he was fully “mine.” I had to make him approach me first this time. “…pretty.”
She blinked, her pale face looked stunned. Her pointed elfin ears burned scarlet at the tips. “Miss? You—”
I nodded, fighting not to fidget even while my heart banged like a drum in my chest. I’d never wanted Mahtilda to play with my looks, I’d gone to great lengths for years to hide my true face from others. I didn’t expect her to work a miracle, in the middle realm I might be considered passably pretty, maybe even cute. But I was too short, too tanned, and too plain amongst the elegance of the dark fae. Perhaps she thought the task too tall an order.
“I know the task will not be an easy one. If you do not feel up to it, do not worry.”
She shook her head quickly, causing a brown curl to slip free of her coif.
“I will not fail you, miss. I vow it to the darkness that binds.”
She sounded almost excited. I sighed, closing my eyes as I let her do whatever she pleased to me.
At some point, I must have lightly dozed because the next thing I knew I felt a gentle tap before she whispered, “Miss, wake up. Look.”
I blinked and simply stared at myself. Startled by the transformation.
Mahtilda had braided part of my hair, wrapping it around the crown of my head. Allowing the rest to tumble like a wave down my back. The way she’d styled it, I almost looked as though I had baby horns.
My heart raced, even my face looked much altered.
She’d applied makeup so that my skin almost seemed to glow like the purebloods did. My lips were rosy red, my cheeks a sweet pink, my lashes were long and ebony black. I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.
“Witchcraft,” I whispered and she beamed.
“You said to make you pretty, miss. But the truth is, you already are.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I went to untuck it, but she shook her head. “You are not one of them, miss. And it’s good to remind them of that.”
Then grabbing a pair of brilliant sapphire earrings in the shape of a teardrop, she slid them into my rounded, human-looking ears.
When Dahpne saw how Mahtilda had arranged my hair, she quickly replaced the heavy dragon’s armor she’d likely expected me to want to use with something I’d never dared to wear before. I clutched my robe in my hands, nerves twisting up my insides.
It was a ballgown. All black with blood-red diamonds threaded throughout, so that it winked in the light. With a low cut in the front. Cinched tight at the waist and completely exposed at my back. I’d taken great pains in the other time to downplay my femininity.
Knowing that my tainted blood had been bad enough, adding my gender to the mix had only made matters worse for me. But I’d known when I’d asked Mahtilda what I had that Dahpne would pull out one of my rare ballgowns.
Dahpne shook the gown at me. “It’s black, miss.”
She sounded almost apologetic, like she’d deliberately chosen something dark to still help me maintain an edge. Problem was, though I was surrounded by dark fae, they rarely wore black. Most females tended to wear white, so as to make their creamy pale skin look even more pale and luminescent.
I sighed. I had to make an impression. “You may put me in that dress, Dahpne, but remove the epaulets from the armor and place them on me too. I am not pureblood after all, let’s remind them of that.”
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