Their Fireheart

Chapter Six

Aelin

This damned costume itched like hell, not at all helped by the paint covering every exposed inch of my skin. The only positive was that it provided a slight distraction from my pounding heart and thrumming pulse as I stood outside the glass castle on the day of Dorian's birthday party.

The nobles, the important guests, had arrived in the days leading up to the event. A thin stream of glittering carriages and lavish trunks had trickled through the city in preparation for the celebration of the year. The entertainers, vendors and help, though? They were ordered to use one of the side entrances the day of, so as not to insult the upper class with their arrival and presence.

It was outside one of those side entrances that I met up with Madam Florine and her troupe of dancers, clad in black tulle, silk and lace - a cluster of gems shimmering under the noon sun like liquid night.

Pulling from every lesson I had ever taken with the Madam - my favorite but most demanding instructor of my adolescence, who had once been the most celebrated dancer in the empire in her own right - I eased into the middle of the company, posture emulating the dancers surrounding me. With my hair a fresh shade of brown, pulled back in a way that carefully covered my ears, face plastered with a thick layer of cosmetics, I was nearly indistinguishable.

I concentrated on playing the trembling novice, focusing more on the dancers around me with a mixture of trepidation and awe than the six guards stationed at the small wooden door standing between us and the castle hallway. Head down, I eyed the doorway, waiting for confirmation that Arobynn was indeed too enveloped in his later plans to bother betraying me now.

Tall and still graceful despite her age, the chestnut-haired Florine walked along her line of dancers with all the confidence of a general - like Cassian.

I cast that errant thought from my head as Florine paused beside me, her hazel eyes on the guards ahead. A frown marred her thin lips. "You still need to work on your posture," she said.

Meeting her sidelong gaze, I murmured, "It's an honor to be an understudy for you, Madam. I do hope Gillyan recovers soon."

We inched forward as the guards waved through a troupe of jugglers. Florine said softly, "You look in good-enough spirits."

I made a show of ducking my head, curling in on myself - the bashful understudy, overwhelmed by the attention of her mistress. "Considering where I was a year ago?" I asked slyly.

I knew she'd had nothing to do with Arobynn's betrayal, but it never hurt to remind a potential ally all that I'd faced - and overcome, emerging victorious. Even when Florine was one of the only people from my previous life that I genuinely trusted. She had solidified my loyalty when I'd nearly beggared myself paying off mine and Sam's debts to Arobynn, and she'd insisted on continuing to teach me - resolutely refusing any form of payment.

Her gaze lingered on the thin bands of scars across my wrists that even the painted whorls couldn't wholly conceal, before darting to my shoulders. They'd raised the top of the open-backed costumes, but the tops of my scars still peeked through.

Fluorine sniffed, "Yes, as a matter of fact." She laid a hand on my shoulder, ever the condescending Madam, but her soft touch lingered in a show of real comfort. "It is a relief to have you back, and a privilege to aid you - to avenge the death of those musicians in even a small way."

A month ago, the King of Adarlan had slaughtered the entire population of the slaves in Endovier and Calaculla - a heinous, despicable act that I'd lost my breakfast over when I heard. In retaliation, the Royal Theatre of Rifthold had played the songs of the enslaved nations - only to be executed for their supposed crimes. A carefully worded, but genuine letter to Florine had cemented our alliance.