Page 55 of The Golden Princess

Page List


Font:  

I turned slowly, trying to tame my raging emotions. By the time I’d made it all the way around, I’d settled on a light, friendly smile.

“Good evening.” I kept my words as neutral as possible.

“Is it?” He still sounded distracted. Glancing around at the crowd, which was growing more and more tight, he frowned. “We should go into the gardens.”

“Rek?” I took an involuntary step forward. “Is something wrong? What’s happened?”

He blinked, as if surprised by my words, and I saw the merest flick of his eyes toward Iola.

“No—at least nothing more than yesterday.” He gave a laugh which sounded forced to my ear but seemed to satisfy our audience since Iola’s concerned look dissipated, and she went back to looking at me with some mixture of jealousy and shocked disapproval.

Rek held out his arm, and when I hesitated gave me a stern look. “Zaria.”

I meekly placed my hand on his offered arm as Iola gasped.

“Zaria? I thought you moved to Ardasira!”

I shrugged, but Rek spoke before I could, his voice hard.

“An incorrect rumor as it turned out. She never left Karema.”

“But…” Iola’s forehead furrowed, and I could almost see the thoughts running through her mind. If I’d been in the capital all this time, where had I been? No one had encountered me at any of the palace’s social events in over three years.

Not wanting to get into that particular explanation, I squeezed Rek’s arm slightly, and he moved toward the closest window.

“It was nice to see you again,” I called over my shoulder to a stunned Iola.

“I think we might have scandalized her.” I struggled to keep my voice light and even as we stepped out beneath the scanty moonlight. “Are we supposed to be out here?”

Rek pulled his arm away and gave a shaky laugh as he looked at me in my golden gown. “Supposed to be? That probably depends who you ask.”

I frowned, thrown off by his cryptic answer. But looking around, I noticed several other people spread throughout the closer parts of the garden. They stood talking in small clumps or walked down the carefully manicured paths. Lanterns had been interspersed at regular intervals along the sections of walking track that gave easy view of the ballroom.

I relaxed. Clearly the gardens were an acceptable extension of the ballroom still—as they used to be in the days when Adara and I would sneak out to peek in the windows at the dancers. The need to dodge guests seeking fresh air had always made the adventure more thrilling.

I waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t. He didn’t look at me at all, instead gazing into the darkness of the deeper gardens with the same shaken expression.

“Has something happened?” I asked in a quiet voice. “Your conversation with your captain seemed intense.”

“Jerome?” He turned to me with a frown. “Not at all. He just dislikes being forced to attend such events. He’s more at home on horseback than in a ballroom.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I almost wanted there to be some fresh disaster to explain Rek’s strange behavior.

“Does he know about…” I asked, not finishing the sentence. I didn’t want to mention the cave even in a whisper.

“No,” Rek said quickly. “If it was possible to empty it, I would have informed my father, of course. But as it stands, it is of most relevance to our investigation, and Father put me in charge of pursuing the gang.”

“Of course.” My doubt tainted the words, but he didn’t seem to notice.

I didn’t think the sultan would see it the way Rek did. But I wasn’t going to argue in favor of reporting it since that would almost certainly end up involving me.

Instead I copied Rek, gazing out across the garden. A memory vision danced through my mind—two girls creeping around the nearest bush.

“So many memories here,” I said softly, mostly to myself.

Rek turned to me, his brows drawn. “You seem to have taken up residence inside my mind.”

Confused by his intensity, I barely managed a smile. “Given our shared history, it’s no surprise we’d be thinking the same thing.”


Tags: Melanie Cellier Fantasy