Page 42 of Shadow and Bone (The Grisha 1)
“Genya,” I asked before I could lose my nerve, “what happened between you and the King?”
She examined the toes of her satin slippers. “The King has his way with lots of servants,” she said. Then she shrugged. “At least I got a few jewels out if it. ”
“You don’t mean that. ”
“No. I don’t. ” She fiddled with one of her earrings. “The worst part is that everyone knows. ”
I put my arm around her. “They don’t matter. You’re worth all of them put together. ”
She gave a weak imitation of her confident smile. “Oh, I know that. ”
“The Darkling should have done something,” I said. “He should have protected you. ”
“He has, Alina. More than you know. Besides, he’s as much a slave to the whims of the King as the rest of us. At least for now. ”
“For now?”
She gave me a quick squeeze. “Let’s not dwell on depressing things tonight. Come on,” she said, her gorgeous face breaking into a dazzling grin. “I’m in desperate need of champagne!”
And with that, she glided serenely from the room. I wanted to say more to her. I wanted to ask her what she meant about the Darkling. I wanted to take a hammer to the King’s head. But she was right. There would be plenty of time for trouble tomorrow. I took a last peek in the little mirror and hurried out into the hall, leaving my worries and Genya’s warnings behind me.
MY BLACK KEFTA caused quite a stir in the domed hall as Marie and Nadia and a group of other Etherealki dressed in blue velvets and silks swarmed around me and Genya. Genya made to slip away as she usually did, but I held fast to her arm. If I was wearing the Darkling’s color, then I intended to take full advantage of it and have my friend by my side.
“You know I can’t go into the ballroom with you. The Queen would have a fit,” she whispered in my ear.
“Okay, but you can still walk over with me. ”
Genya beamed.
As we walked down the gravel path and into the wooded tunnel, I noticed that Sergei and several other Heartrenders were keeping pace with us, and I realized with a start that they were guarding us—or probably me. I supposed it made sense with all of the strangers on the palace grounds for the fete, but it was still disconcerting, a reminder that there were a lot of people in the world who wanted me dead.
The grounds surrounding the Grand Palace had been lit up to showcase tableaus of actors and little troupes of acrobats performing for wandering guests. Masked musicians strolled the paths. A man with a monkey on his shoulder ambled past, and two men covered from head to toe in gold leaf rode by on zebras, throwing jeweled flowers to everyone they passed. Costumed choirs sang in the trees. A trio of redheaded dancers splashed around in the double-eagle fountain, wearing little more than seashells and coral and holding up platters full of oysters to guests.
We had just started to climb the marble steps when a servant appeared with a message for Genya. She read the note and sighed.
“The Queen’s headache has miraculously disappeared, and she has decided to attend the ball after all. ” She gave me a hug, promised to find me before the demonstration, and then slipped away.
Spring had barely begun to show itself, but it was impossible to tell that in the Grand Palace. Music floated down the marble hallways. The air felt curiously warm and was perfumed with the scent of thousands of white flowers, grown in Grisha hothouses. They covered tables and trailed down balustrades in thick clusters.
Marie, Nadia, and I drifted through groups of nobles, who pretended to ignore us but whispered as we passed by with our Corporalki guard
. I held my head high and even smiled at one of the young noblemen standing by the entrance to the ballroom. I was surpised to see him blush and look down at his shoes. I glanced at Marie and Nadia to see if they had noticed, but they were gabbling about some of the dishes served to the nobles at dinner—roasted lynx, salted peaches, burnt swan with saffron. I was glad that we’d eaten earlier.
The ballroom was larger and grander than even the throne room had been, lit by row after row of sparkling chandeliers, and full of masses of people drinking and dancing to the sounds of a masked orchestra seated along the far wall. The gowns, the jewels, the crystals dripping from the chandeliers, even the floor beneath our feet seemed to sparkle, and I wondered how much of it was Fabrikator craft.
The Grisha themselves mingled and danced, but they were easy to pick out in their bold colors: purple, red, and midnight blue, glowing beneath the chandeliers like exotic flowers that had sprung up in some pale garden.
The next hour passed in a blur. I was introduced to countless noblemen and their wives, high-ranking military officers, courtiers, and even some Grisha from noble households who had come as guests to the ball. I quickly gave up trying to remember names and simply smiled and nodded and bowed. And tried to keep myself from scanning the crowd for the Darkling’s black-clad form. I also had my first taste of champagne, which I found I liked much better than kvas.
At one point, I discovered myself face-to-face with a tired-looking nobleman leaning on a cane.
“Duke Keramsov!” I exclaimed. He was wearing his old officer’s uniform, his many medals pinned to his broad chest.
The old man looked at me with a flicker of interest, clearly startled that I knew his name.
“It’s me,” I said. “Alina Starkov?”
“Yes … yes. Of course!” he said with a faint smile.
I looked into his eyes. He didn’t remember me at all.
And why should he? I was just another orphan, and a very forgettable one at that. Still, I was surprised at how much it hurt.
I made polite conversation for as long as I had to and then took the first opportunity to escape.
I leaned against a pillar and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing servant. The room felt uncomfortably warm. As I looked around, I suddenly felt very alone. I thought of Mal, and for the first time in weeks, my heart gave that old familiar twist. I wished he could be here to see this place. I wished he could see me in my silk kefta with gold in my hair. Mostly I just wished that he was standing beside me. I pushed the thought away and took a big gulp of champagne. What difference did it make if some drunk old man didn’t know me? I was glad he didn’t recognize the scrawny, miserable little girl I’d been.
I saw Genya gliding through the crowd toward me. Counts and dukes and wealthy merchants turned to stare at her as she passed, but she ignored them all. Don’t waste your time, I wanted to tell them. Her heart belongs to a gangly Fabrikator who doesn’t like parties.
“Time for the show—I mean, the demonstration,” she said when she reached me. “Why are you all by yourself?”
“I just needed to take a little break. ”
