House of Secrets and Vows (Crown of Deceit #1)

10. Revel Virgin

10

REVEL VIRGIN

A nother note arrives underneath my dinner tray of food, holding instructions on the best route to get from my room to the party.

I leave the paper on the bed and dig into my food.

The aroma of that night's meal has my mouth watering before I even know what it is. I open the lid to find sliced meat—poultry of some sort—and mashed potatoes, both slathered in gravy. A separate dish holds various fruits, and I'm not sure where to start.

Since I left my room so early this morning, I missed breakfast, and I was too preoccupied with my upcoming assignment to eat much of lunch.

Now, however, I devour every bite, even finishing off the last bit of the sweet fruit juice lingering in its serving bowl.

As I slip into the leather pants I’m supposed to wear, I soon realize that eating so much so fast was a mistake. By some miracle, I’m able to snap them at the top, then I button up the corset top and pull the small jacket onto my arms.

Once I'm in the heeled boots, I focus on my hair and makeup.

The long braid I had pinned up and worn that day unravels into long waves, and I paint on the lip gloss and eye shadow I brought with me for a sultry look to match my attire.

As soon as the clock tower strikes nine times, I take a final look in the mirror, then head to the revel.

There’s still no sign of anyone else staying on the same floor of my wing, which is a happy surprise since it makes sneaking in and out without being noticed easier. As the earlier note instructed, I take the staircase down to the lower floor and exit the same door I entered the palace.

Unlike the garden outside the cathedral, there isn't a single rose in the garden area on this side.

Vines climb the white lattices propped against the building, and fireflies dance around vibrant pink bushes that emit a heavenly floral scent.

As I follow hedges of lush greenery that line the pathway away from the building to the back of the castle, voices sound behind me. Tensing, I turn to see a woman dressed in a gown so tight on her hips and thighs that I'm not sure how she’s walking and a man in a sleek, monochromatic gray suit. Nothing, from his shoes to his thin tie, deviates in color.

He wraps his arm around the woman as she giggles.

She leans into his touch. "Oh, how I love the Summer Solstice. So much better than winter."

The thin heels of her shoes click against the cobblestone.

I slow, pretending to spot something worth my interest on the hedges, and let them pass. They pay me no attention as they continue down the path, hands twined.

Assuming they are headed to the same place, I follow them around the corner, and then, instead of turning toward the palace, they take a path that leads below ground.

Soon, I lose sight of the moon above and rely on the bright torches hung on the wall for light. I arrive at a door just as the couple slips by the man standing outside it.

"Coin?" he asks.

I reach inside the top of my corset and slip out the bronze coin, handing it to him with a polite grin.

He stares, no emotion crossing his face, and tosses it into a bucket on the ground by his feet. "Name?"

The note didn’t mention what to give as my name, did it? I quickly recall my story.

"I’m Zariah Thatcher, niece of Nal Thatcher. He passed his invitation on to me." Though I usually shy away from using my real name, it’s what Felix knows me as and is the only thing I can think of that he would have used.

He scribbles on a sheet of paper then gestures at the door. “Enjoy your night, miss.”

I thank him before hurrying inside.

Torches line the walls of the room I enter, and intricate gold candle chandeliers drop from the surprisingly high ceiling, their wicks blazing warm orange flames.

Though the place is clean, the lack of windows and underground location makes me wonder if this area was meant to be a crypt.

Servants dressed in simple all-black clothing weave throughout the room. There are some tables and chairs, another section of plush couches in a back corner, and on the right is a space dedicated to dancing where a few couples move seductively to the live music of the three-person band.

I spot the couple from the walk mingling with another couple at one of the tables.

Slowly, I meander through the room, looking for Prince Nevan, but I don’t spot him. From what I can see, Maddox isn’t in attendance either.

Was Felix’s information accurate, or have I made the trip here for nothing?

It’s still early, I remind myself, so I make my way toward the front of the large space to the long mahogany bar top.

The barkeep approaches me. "What can I get ya?"

I fold my hands on the bar. "What do you suggest?"

"We have a great red wine from the grapes of Mistmoor. Or a strong vodka that pairs well with our citrus juice."

The Silver Lady has mead, which has different flavors based on the season, but that or dark beer is as fancy as it gets in most of the kingdom taverns, at least the ones commoners patronize.

"I’ll take the wine."

The only time I’ve had wine was on rebel assignments at the nicer Valazican establishments, and I’m usually only given enough coin for a single glass.

But one time, Felix sent me to one of the kingdom’s prominent brothel owners to ask for information on the head of the city guard, a well-known visitor of The Moonlight Inn, the kingdom’s most popular brothel.

I’d been given ten coins to bribe the information out of her, but instead, the madam wanted me to go on a date with her son Tristan and told me to keep the coin for myself.

It was a strange proposition, but I accepted with the promise that nothing more than attending the date was expected of me.

Well, after six glasses of delicious red wine at one of the nicest restaurants in all of Valazica, I found my way into his bed anyway.

He was kind and gentle, as it was my first and only time making love until I met Quin, and it was a night to remember. But, despite his mother’s best efforts to convince him otherwise, he was no more ready to settle down than I, and we’ve never spoken again.

The barkeep returns with a glass of deep crimson liquid.

I tense as he hands it to me, realizing I brought no money and none was given to me, but he winks and says, "Relax, everything here is on the prince."

"Oh?" I take the glass. "Which one?"

"Nevan. Maddox never attends these revels."

"Has Prince Nevan already arrived?"

"No. He never shows until at least midnight, though most of the time lately, he doesn’t show at all."

I resist a disappointed sigh. "Thanks for the wine."

So, Prince Nevan is the partier of the brothers. It doesn’t surprise me.

Clearly, he has a proclivity for excitement if he joined the House of Blood. Or perhaps it is the power he craves.

What’s to stop him from growing impatient and killing his own father to take power? Figuring out his exact motivation is key to learning how to bring him down before he destroys the kingdom.

All in the two weeks I am here for the Solstice, no pressure.

I hover near the bar as I sip the wine. Its flavor is bold and deep and takes me back to that date with the brothel owner’s son.

Despite being so out of my usual element in the luxurious restaurant, surrounded by so many wealthy people, it was a night that I didn't pretend to be someone else. I had no agenda as Tristan and I ate, drank, and laughed.

I wasn't a rebel out to save the kingdom or a priestess ready to pass out forgiveness, cataloging dark secrets along the way. No, I was simply Zariah, with no need to learn anything or impress anyone, even if, on any other day, Tristan would have been someone with secrets worth knowing.

I‘ve come close to feeling as free with Quin, but the shadow of losing Aella still hangs over me like a permanent storm cloud, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let go as I had that night again.

As I swirl the wine in my glass, I scan the room.

Still no sign of Nevan.

I’m used to being stood up on assignments, but impatience skitters through me like a chill. This is the first time I have my own agenda, and the fear of failing swirls in my stomach.

I down the last bit of my wine and set my glass on the bar, then head to the ladies' washroom in the back corner of the room. After I relieve myself in a private stall, a luxury not common in the outer kingdom, I rinse my hands under a faucet of running water.

Such convenience in this place of opulence.

I move to the side of the large room to a mirror that fills the entire wall. A woman stands in front of it, tugging the neckline of her skin-tight dress lower to reveal more of her cleavage. Her auburn waist-length hair curls in long locks that bounce against the red of her dress as she turns her head.

I step next to her and make sure I haven’t smeared any of my makeup.

The woman gazes at me in the mirror and reaches out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emeryn.”

Although it isn’t uncommon for men to shake hands, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a female initiate the gesture, but not wanting to be rude, I shake it.

“Zariah,” I say. Now that I’ve given my name, I need to stay consistent. “I’m visiting for the Solstice on behalf of my uncle.”

“Perhaps I know him.” The woman brushes her fingers through her hair to smooth out a curl.

“Nal Thatcher.” Gods, I hope the woman doesn’t know him. Felix didn’t give me much to go off of if anyone inquires about my cover. Perhaps he wants me to get caught. I swallow the thought.

“I don’t think I’ve met him either.” The woman pulls a small tissue from the neckline of her dress, blots her cherry-red lips with it, and then stuffs it back in. “Is this your first Solstice here at the palace?”

“It is.” I lean toward the mirror, pretending to adjust one of my eyelashes. “My uncle couldn’t make it, so I was thrilled to attend in his stead. Do you come often?”

“Yes, my father owns a large trade ship, so we’re fortunate enough to get invitations to nearly all of the royal events.”

Daughter of a merchant. No wonder she looks so flawless.

Emeryn steps back, tugs at the fabric hugging her hips, then smiles. “I hope to see you around this Solstice! Perhaps we can sit together at one of the events. I always love making new friends.”

“That would be lovely.”

It isn’t a lie. If these types of parties are normal for Emeryn, I’m sure she is full of information about the other regular guests, including the prince.

There’s still no sign of Nevan as I amble through the room, careful not to draw too much attention to myself.

Could he be out in the kingdom, terrorizing innocent people with the House of Blood? It seems as if having the prince as their new recruit has given the dangerous group a set of bold, infallible wings. Word of their attacks since the night I escaped the tavern is far more frequent than ever.

The group that once lingered in the shadows now menaces with little care of the attention it draws.

And yet, not once have I heard the prince’s name associated with the House of Blood.

Even if Alabek had recognized him, he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t share what he knew since doing so might get him killed. Even if I wanted to tell someone, since I’d learned of his connection to the House of Blood through a confession, I can’t without risking whatever curse the Priestess Vow would punish me with.

Plus, I’m a nobody, and if it’s the prince’s word against mine, I’ll be hanged for the blasphemous accusation.

With my impatience growing, I make my way back to the bar, this time sitting on a stool to sip on a fresh glass of wine. As fashionable as my boots are, they’re a size too small, and my feet are throbbing.

Someone steps next to me and taps a finger on the bar. I glance up to see a man searching for what I assume is the barkeep.

He is handsome, with long dark hair and a bright smile, and the quality of his suit suggests he must have wealth.

The barkeep catches the man’s gaze and gestures that he will be here as soon as he can.

The man sighs and settles into the stool next to me. “Sitting alone in such a crowded place?”

“This is my first time attending an event like this.” The first-timer ruse is always a good way to get information from people, and this time, it’s certainly true.

“First time to a Prince Nevan event or first time to the palace?”

“Both.”

“A true revel-virgin, then.” He rests his elbow on the table and tilts his torso toward me. I can’t help but stare at the fiery hue of his eyes. “No wonder I don’t recognize you. I’m Blaise.”

“Zariah,” I say, wishing I’d come up with a different name for my own protection. “I take it you’re a regular to these things?”

“A regular? Not quite. But every so often, I accept an invitation.”

“Seems like a lot of effort to host a party then not attend.”

He rests his chin on his palm. “The night is still young. Are you a friend of Nevan?”

“I’ve never met him,” I admit, which is only half true. I’ve never met him outside my role as a priestess. “But my mother taught me it’s always polite to thank the host, so I’ve been hoping to catch him.”

The barkeep sets a glass down on his way over and approaches Blaise. “Another?”

“Two this time.” He winks at the barkeep. “I ran into an old friend, and we’re catching up.”

After the barkeep leaves to pour the wine, Blaise slides off the stool. “Watch yourself with the prince. He has a… reputation.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “What kind of reputation?”

Could he know about the House of Blood connection?

Following the path of my hand, Blaise’s eyes narrow briefly, then he smooths out his pants. “That of a heartbreaker, I’m afraid. He can be very charming, then very…uninterested.”

“You mean to tell me he’s a male.” I hide my disappointment at the generic warning. I’d expect nothing less of a prince.

“Hey now, not all of us men are careless.”

I shrug with a smile. “Perhaps.”

Blaise only shakes his head with a laugh as he leaves with his drinks.

I pace myself with my glass of wine, and when it’s gone, I decide it isn’t worth waiting any longer. From what everyone has said, the prince is likely to skip the revel and, with tomorrow my first day of confessions, I could use as much sleep as I can get, or I might not be able to keep myself from dozing off.

As I make my way back the same way I came, I pass a few late party guests, none of whom are the prince.

The warmth of the wine settles in my stomach, tamping down my annoyance at my wasted time. It isn’t often I’m given unlimited free drinks. The night wasn’t a complete waste, I suppose.

A pleasant breeze tosses my hair as I round the final corner toward the castle.

When I’m nearly to the door, a guard walks out, and his attention snaps right to me.