"It's the middle of a performance," Gavril said, shooting her a look of annoyance.
"Which is why I said soon. After it's over."
When it finished, he was the one to remind her, saying this would be a good time, before the acrobatic performance began.
He was escorting her toward the exit when they were stopped by Lord Kuro Tanuki and his son. They'd met both earlier--a short and formal conversation. That was when the two men were sober, which they no longer were. In fact, they were clearly, exceedingly, not sober.
Lord Tanuki stumbled into their path and thumped a meaty hand on Gavril's shoulder.
"You've grown up well," Tanuki said. "Very well indeed. The last time we met, you were just a skinny boy, running around court with the emperor's bastard. A useful friendship, as it turned out."
He winked at Gavril, then did the same to Moria. He seemed to expect some response from her, but she was struggling to think of a way to word her own question. You speak of Tyrus. Does he live? Tell me he lives.
There was no way to ask without betraying herself, so she held her tongue and prayed he'd give some sign that he did not speak of the prince in the past tense.
"Yes, you've grown up well," Tanuki said. "Strong and sturdy, like your father. But you take after your mother in looks, which is particularly fortuitous." He laughed at his own joke, then thumped his son for comment, but his son was too busy staring at Moria to notice.
"They do make a striking couple, don't they?" Tanuki said. "They'll have very handsome children."
"I've never bedded a Northern girl," his son blurted.
Even his father sputtered at that. The son seemed too drunk to realize his impropriety and kept staring at Moria.
"Her hair is like golden fire," the son said. "Is it the same color down--?"
His father cut him off with a thump to the back of the head hard enough for the son to stumble. Lord Tanuki laughed, too loudly, as if he could drown out any more indiscreet comments. "We'll need to find you a Northern girl to check for yourself. Another Northern girl. This one is taken, and from the looks young Gavril is giving you, if you continue speculating in that fashion, we'll all be witnessing a sword fight instead of an acrobatic performance."
"My apologies, Lord Tanuki," Gavril said stiffly, sounding not apologetic at all. "I am unaccustomed to being betrothed."
"And my son is unaccustomed to your father's rice wine. It is good to see you so taken with your bride. As a man who has been married nearly three decades, I can assure you that it helps a great deal. You will be very happy together. Not that there was any doubt of your mutual affection, given what the young Keeper did for you."
Before he could continue, one of his men came to tell him that Alvar wished to speak to him. Lord Tanuki said he'd be right there and then turned to Moria. "That was quite a feat, my lady. A difficult one, I'm sure, leaving your sister and your wildcat behind. The empire may not hold you in very high regard now, but once Alvar Kitsune triumphs, people will understand the sacrifice you made."
"Sacrifice?" Moria said, but Tanuki was already walking away, following his man to Alvar. Moria turned to Gavril. "What is he talking about?"
For a moment, Gavril seemed not to hear her. He stared after Tanuki and there was an odd look in his eyes, as if a horrible thought had just dawned on him.
"Kitsune," she hissed, tugging his arm. "What is he talking about?"
"I--I don't know." He turned to face her, but his gaze didn't meet hers. He appeared genuinely confused, and more than a little concerned. "Wait here. I must have a word with my father."
"But--"
He strode off. As he did, Moria glanced around. She was at the party, alone. Completely alone, as people returned to watch the acrobatic performance.
She peered toward the hall leading to the toilet pits. A few guests still streamed out, rushing back to the main room as the performance began.
Moria gave one last look around. Her gaze settled on Gavril, now across the reception hall, speaking to his father and completely preoccupied.
She hurried for the hall.
Moria knew exactly where she needed to go. Getting there was somewhat more complicated. Not least because she was stuck wearing the blasted dress for as long as she could reasonably expect to bump into someone. And until then, she was as inconspicuous as a peacock.
She took the circuitous route she'd noticed earlier and managed to avoid two guards. Then, as she was creeping down the final corridor, a voice whispered by her ear, Wait. She paused.
Not yet, child, the spirit whispered.
Moria tilted her head, and as she did, she caught the grunt and sigh of a bored guard at his post ahead. She zipped around the corner.