"You will sit here until the earth eats away at your bones, and for you, my dear sister, that will be a very long time indeed ..."
*
After the use of dark magic, Liro is outcast from the sisterhood, stripped of her immortal grace and lifespan. Lef...
The space was tiny, and Liro's elbow brushed the cabinets as she peeled off her dancers costume. Her dress, handed to her by Kier, fit much more comfortably. It was grand and a silvery shade of blue that shimmered like water under the gaze of the sun.
Her hair, which had been twisted into a tight coil atop her head, was pulled unceremoniously from its place. Deftly, she braided it away from her face in the most elaborate way she knew how. She wasn't particularly concerned.
If anything, people would be paying them attention for their attitude, not their attire.
Liro and Kier dressed quickly; him helping her with the buttons down her back just out of reach, and Liro straightening his collar and buttoning his cuffs. There were no surfaces for them to check their own appearances in. Kier simply trusted that she wasn't lying to him, and she had no choice but to do the same for him.
They slipped into the hallway silently, turning the way that they had entered. In their finery, it would be more of a scandal to have them be spotted in the servant passage than the main entrance. They did not need the royal court to be discussing them for longer than they would even be present within these gilded walls.
"Why are there so many people?" Liro hissed, clenching her fist as she spied the steady stream of nobles pouring in through the front doors. "I thought this was to be a private affair."
"For them, perhaps," Kier replied. "Though it's better to invite everyone than brushing aside the wrong person."
Liro pursed her lips and looked back and forth up the hallway, hoping for an opening.
She spied one, and gripped Kier's wrist tightly, dragging him along with her. One would have to be very observant to notice the white in her knuckles as she grasped him, or the tightness in her jaw; particularly all at once.
It was almost unfathomable that they were inside, that all forms of security had been so easy to bypass. Liro felt like calling the charade and coming back once their defences presented a challenge for her.
She remembered the Queen's bright red hair and the cruel curve of her lips. The way she dressed herself in the colour of blood deliberately, as a threat.
Liro wasn't naive enough to think that it was a threat meant only for her. Something was keeping Kier here, and as desperately as she wished to know what it was, there wasn't any time. Nothing was as important to her as her own objective, which was eliminate the danger to her own longevity.
She had killed Lord Hexley.
She had been distraught and feeling as though spilling his blood wouldn't be a sin; it would be justice. Liro had acted like her casting out had somehow made everything she would do afterwards insignificant.
Lord Hexley had been a test. Of her morals, of her strength, of her mortal stomach and how much it could handle. What her new body and mind could take.
As long as she bore her sins with elegance, none would take them from her.
The Queen had acted like the people discovering her agenda would be the worst thing that could happen to her. Liro had felt it, at the time.
But inside the walls of another King's palace and gripping the arm of the man who she couldn't decide to either trust or abandon, Liro knew it was far from the most terrible thing she could do. Events would unfold tonight that would make her wish for a time when she could cast Kier away and not look back.
After tonight, she would be bound to the Queen, Kier and Lord Hexley. In a twisted sort of way, even Tyras would have the power to play a hand in her undoing.
Her sisters were terrible and cruel, but they had never pretended to be anything but. She had fooled herself into believing that they would be vicious to all but her.
It was the opposite now.
Those she had encountered had been blunt and foreboding about the blade sheathed behind their backs. And she had to instead discover who was her ally, rather than her enemy.
Mortals were so much easier that way. Always prepared for danger, always fearing death. Liro would have found it refreshing if the same sort of mortality didn't now impede her.
Liro's eyes flashed around the hallway as they walked along it - rather than letting them rest at the end where the room swelled into one to host the most extravagant imaginings - and counted quickly.
"Six guards," she whispered, low enough for Kier to hear, "Two at the entrance to the ballroom, one on each side of the hall partway, and two behind us."
"Have they looked at us?"
"Not at me. I can't account for you."
Kier blew out a frustrated breath, barely concealing his irritation from the other guests. He didn't even bother to smile at a man who looked him up and down skeptically. Something had rattled him; Liro had no doubt that it was the levity of the situation.
She didn't want to make a mistake either.
"Are we entering the room?" Liro hissed, barely moving her lips.
"Have you spotted our mark?"
"No."
"Then yes, we're entering the ballroom." There was no jibe concealed in his words; he was much too focused on the spindles of gold that were creeping inside of the larger room.
Details flashed behind Liro's eyes, almost one by one, yet so quickly that it felt as though they ran at her all at once.
They were looking for Lord Atlor - a close relative of the deceased Hexley, albeit older. The Queen had described the two of them standing beside each other as a grand deception. Like twin mirrors perfectly positioned on opposite walls.
She scanned the room carefully as the entered. Her eyes roved every face, every suit, her heart beating faster every time the face she found wasn't his.
If he wasn't here, it would spell all sorts of uncertainty. It would mean that someone knew, that there had been a leak. That Kier and Liro were in danger.
Kier's hand gripped hers tightly, so much so that she fought to contain the wince playing across her features.
"I've found him." Kier looked at her, instead of the mark. "Lounging against the chair closest to the far left-hand window."
Liro didn't miss a beat, keeping her head stationary and whipping her eyes around so quickly she felt herself spin. It felt like all the breath had been expelled from her lungs.
The Queen had been right.
It was like seeing a ghost.
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