A Sprinkle of Stardust

Chapter 19 - Blame

Lyrani studied her fruit salad, sifting through the apple slices and halved strawberries until she found a juicy blueberry. She had speared it on the end of her fork and brought it up to her mouth when she felt a sharp tap on her shoulder.

She turned to see her partner glaring down at her.

Trelle's eyes were still bloodshot from the amount of alcohol she had consumed at the ball, but the fury in them was unmistakable, even in the shade inside the marquee.

Lyrani gulped.

The mission had gone badly wrong the previous night. Lyrani knew that, but it had been too much to hope that Trelle would wake up and want to discuss what had happened.

More likely Lyrani was in for the lecture of her life, one more intense than the one she had received the night she ruined King Nash's tea.

"You and I need to have a little talk." Trelle's mouth was tight around her words.

Her suspicions confirmed, Lyrani sighed and set down her fork. She knew this was coming, and she knew she deserved it. She had made the worst mistake an assassin could commit.

She had been caught.

Perhaps Lyrani was losing her touch. Accepting this assignment hadn't been a good idea. She'd had her reservations, and perhaps her gut had been right.

Lyrani had known since the briefing that this mission wasn't going to be as straightforward as those she had completed before. From the start, Vlitavia Palace had unsettled her with the sense that there was a darkness within it, one Lyrani couldn't navigate. She had met it two nights ago, and she thanked the stars that she hadn't seen it since.

As if this assignment wasn't difficult enough, Lyrani was partnered with Trelle, a senior agent who could do no wrong, not in her own eyes or anyone else's.

Trelle cleared her throat. Lyrani looked up to see her fold her arms over her chest, her face sourer than the blueberry in Lyrani's mouth.

"Excuse me." Lyrani gave the elf sitting beside her an apologetic smile before standing to leave with Trelle.

He had wanted to tell her a story about his little pet dragon and a pan full of toffee that sounded fascinating. Lyrani would rather listen to that than be yelled at for who knew how long, but the senior agent left her no option.

As Lyrani and Trelle weaved through the tables of nobles laughing and exchanging stories as they enjoyed lunch, Lyrani's eyes wandered to the front of the marquee, where a group of chattering elves set up an assortment of gleaming musical instruments.

A scrawny elf sat to the side of the group, polishing his saxophone until it shone. Not too far from him, a figure in a glowing tunic sewn from sunshine talked to a podgy elf wearing a monocle and holding a conducting baton in his fleshy hand. The soft yellow of King Nash's clothing contrasted well with his tan complexion.

If the sun could be a person, it would be him. The sunlight fabric cast his eyes in a less weary light. He seemed happier, less resigned than the man Lyrani had spoken to last night.

Except for when he laughed. That was when he came to life.

Try as she might, Lyrani couldn't look away from him. He was deep in conversation with the conductor of the orchestra, oblivious to the stares and the whispers, to the way everyone in sight orbited him and only him.

As if he felt Lyrani's eyes on him, he turned in her direction. She looked away before they could lock gazes.

In front of her, Trelle stomped out of the marquee, and she had no choice but to follow.