Page 50 of A Dance of Lies

“Leave it alone,” I warn, fingers curling into the sheets.

“There are no secrets here,” he says, gesturing between us. “Not if we’re partners. Not if you hope to convince me I should trust you enough to keep you here. You should already be gone.”

My voice goes cold. “My past ismine.To share at my own discretion.”

“Not when you were convenientlybesidethe man who was poisoned, for Fates’ sake!”

I give him an incredulous look. “Was I not poisoned myself?”

“The ice beneath you is thin, Vasalie,” he growls. “And it grows thinner still.”

“Copelan, please—”

“Speak.”

All the frustration and fear clogs my throat until it feels like I’m going to throw it all up. “He’s myfather!” I shout, dumping the words into the space between us like a pail of ice. I rise from the bed, using the window to steady me, but blood hurtles through my veins, fast as a riptide. My eyes swim with the threat of tears. “I ran away. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds me, but I amnotgoing back.”

His voice. I hear it, even now, invading my thoughts.Stop me, Emilia, and you will rue the day you set foot in my home . . .

When I turn, Copelan tracks the line of my tears, one by one, his eyes wide.

I slump against the windowsill, then slide to the floor. “I didn’t know he would be here.”

Copelan approaches tentatively. He bends and gathers me into his arms once more, carrying me back to the bed, and it’s such a tender gesture that I don’t know what to say. I can only look at him when he places me upon it and eases next to me. “Would he harm you, Vas?”

He . . .cares.

I want to pull him closer, to curl into him and forget this whole conversation, because yes, my father would harm me; I don’t know how, but he would.

When I don’t reply, Copelan curses. “I can’t allow you to stay if you’re in danger.”

My heart skids to a stop. I grab his hand, willing him to relent. “He won’t recognize me. I was barely thirteen the last time he saw me, just a girl. Regardless, my costumes offer a suitable disguise. He merely caught me off guard.”

“Even still—”

“Youcan’tsend me away,” I plead. “This is everything. It’s all I have. I have nowhere else to go.”

Once more, he shoves his fingers through his hair. Seconds pass, each longer than the last. Then he startles me once more when his hand curls around my jaw, only to fall away.

“I had a partner my first year at the Gathering,” he says.

His voice breaks over the last word, like a wave against a jut of rocks.

I glance up. He fiddles idly with a string on the edge of my quilt.

“The former Master of Revels hired both her and me as soloists that year, but we worked so well together, we decided to combine our efforts—much like you and I now. The Master of Revels wasn’t pleased at first, but after that first night, we were the most requested performers. It was our idea to end each week with a performance to honor the attending nations, which garnered us heaps of favor. It’s the reason the Master of Revels later recommended me as his replacement for the next Gathering once he was set to retire.”

“What happened to her?” I ask softly.

“She . . .” He wipes a thumb across the bow of his lips. “She made a mistake. A naïve, foolish mistake, and it cost her her career. Deprived me of a partner.”

I blink at him. “Mistake?”

He swipes a sharp gaze toward me. “She involved herself with a Crown. Sought after his attention and—” He pauses, shaking his head. “And I never saw her again.”

It makes sense, now, the way he’s been acting.

He snags my hand, rough at first, but then his grip softens. “You will understand why I am as careful as I am, especially with the company kept here at the Gathering. I don’t want you to end up like her. All it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trusting the wrong someone. You don’t realize how easily that can happen.”