Serpent and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #1)

4. Masquerade at Raven

four

Masquerade at Raven

The road to the city was packed with peasants, merchants, and nobility arriving from all corners of the empire. The snow had melted but the sun wasn’t shining yet, and the road was muddy and the sky grey, but the people were dressed brightly like spring flowers for the festivity.

Vendors yelled about magical items they peddled, knocking on doors and windows of carriages stuck behind one another, and a bright haired boy with a black cap managed to charm Sofia into buying a paper rose. If put in water, it turned into a real rose, he claimed. Sofia doubted that very much, but a paper one was all right.

“You’re sad, you know that?” Lev asked. “Just give it.” He took the rose and returned it as a real flower.

Delighted, Sofia pressed it to her nose. She needed it. The city didn’t smell all that pleasant and it was still chilly. She couldn’t imagine the stench in the summer heat.

Painted brightly in the Fedosian manner, Krakova was a large city built of wood, an eyeful even from afar, but the two most prominent structures weren’t crafted of wood but stone. One was The Church of All Saints, built of white stone with gold domed spirals extending to the skies, and across town, the other was Raven Castle, a black rock monstrosity with towers like pikes.

Like crows among songbirds, a flock of black cloaked riders blew by Sofia’s window. Black was the color of Queen Kseniya, and she realized they were Imperial Sentinels as she craned her neck after them.

“This is so exciting.” She was in the habit of speaking to herself.

“Sentinels?” Lev scowled.

“No, just the whole thing.” She flashed her best smile.

“Stay away from sentinels, Soful. They tend to be male whores who service bored wives.”

“Are they not soldiers?” Her smile turned into a frown.

“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” he said. “Brown cloak with iron gear like chainmail and helmet, that’s City Patrol. They don’t use magic and you will see them everywhere. Most are commoners and they can be bought with silver.

“Black cloaks with darksteel gear, you will see gold etched alchemy on their vambrace. That’s Imperial Sentinels and they use Shield alchemy. Also whores, like I just said.

“You see someone with full darksteel armor, the whole thing like a knight, and dver on the breastplate, that’s a watchman. They are the personal bodyguard of the queen. So, if you see them, you curtsy because the mad hag is in the room.”

There was much she didn’t know. Sofia bit her lip. “Darksteel, that’s just black colored metal, isn’t it?”

“It’s Shield creation and exclusive to them,” Lev said. “They claim it’s superior to any other steel. I don’t know about that, but if you’re just looking at it, I guess it looks like obsidian. The metal has a glint to it.”

She’d seen obsidian so she nodded.

It took another two hours, but once they turned off the main road Sofia stuck her head out the window and saw the count’s carriage following them. They were going to stay at Papa’s Krakova mansion, and the sun had gone down by the time Lev’s driver pulled into Papa’s carriageway.

Sofia flung open the door of the coach and flew up the stairs into her uncle’s arms. “Papa!”

He hugged her and greeted her the Guard way of kissing both cheeks. Oh, he’d grown old, and Sofia stroked his white hair thinning at the top, but he still smelled the same—of herbs, wine, and home.

“Well, come, come on in! My home is your home!” He gestured toward the count and his daughters getting out of their carriage.

The White Palace was over three hundred miles from the capital, so when Guards were in the city they stayed in Papa’s modest three-story mansion. Made of wood and warm toned soft furniture, it was welcoming. The plan was they’d stay with Papa during the fifteen days of the festivity, and servants lined the hall, bowing, while their luggage was carried to their rooms.

Everyone washed up, had dinner, and the count discussed politics with Papa while Lev blatantly dozed off at the table. Sofia excused herself because she was wiped and headed to her room. She dismissed the servants because the count didn’t have many and she’d gotten used to doing her own chores except when she needed help dressing. She washed up again, changed into her nightgown, and had just lain down on the large canopy bed when the door burst open and Lev barged in. With antlers mounted on the wall as candleholders, it was his room. He’d had a hunting phase, as most boys did, and he used to write to her about his accomplishments—then he grew up.

“Come on, get up, Soful.”

“Can’t I stay with you?” she asked, not wanting to share a room with the count.

“Of course you can.” He crossed the bedroom and disappeared into his wardrobe. “Get up because we’re going out. It’s your first night in the city.”

She sprung up but debated whether she wanted to go. She was afraid… But it should be all right. Lev was with her. “Where are we going?”

“Masquerade at Raven,” he said.

“Oh, I have nothing to wear.” Sofia deflated and sank into the bed.

“Wear your dead wife shit. You can go as a museum piece.” He stuck his head out of the closet.

“It’s not funny, Lev.”

“Of course it is.” He came out with copper colored trousers, slipped on a white ruffled shirt, and held out a golden choker to Sofia. “Here.”

It was quite a beautiful piece with an array of fire opals, and Sofia had an azure dress with gold embroidery that would match the choker. “I don’t have a mask.”

“You don’t need one. It’s just the name of the ball,” he said, but he produced a red fox mask with pointy ears. It matched his copper trousers. “Come on, Soful.” He snapped his fingers. “We’re already late.”

All right, she wanted to go, and as she dug through her luggage to find the dress she thought of, she asked, “Should we take the Illeivich girls?”

“Sorry, Boyar Duma only. This one is not open to the public,” he said. He flipped up his mask, wore it on his crown, and stood in front of the mirror smearing gold flaked power on his lids. It made his blue eyes pop vividly. “You can go as Sofia Guard but not as Countess Illeivich.”

Enthralled about attending her first ball, she didn’t care about the girls. She’d only asked to be polite.

“The Shields don’t mind us being in their castle?” she asked. She knew nothing of court and would have to rely on Lev for everything.

“Of course not. We have the largest sway in Boyar Duma . The queen is going to raise taxes, I heard, and she needs our vote.”

That was good enough. Sofia got dressed rather quickly, then on her way out, she wondered if that was bad. Ladies took a long time to get ready. So it was probably bad. No matter how unreasonable it was, she couldn’t shake the fear that everyone was going to point at her and laugh.

I don’t matter, she told herself. No one cares about me. No one will notice me. Don’t be stupid.

“It’s larger than I thought,” Sofia mumbled as Papa’s carriage with the Guard crest of the gold sun on the door was waved through the iron gate of a decorative fence like rows of pikes. She could see Raven, and it was… monumental.

Lev had been smoking opium in the carriage and was flying like a baba yaga’s mortar now, his eyes only half open. This was a bad idea, and Sofia’s innards knotted.

As the carriage pulled up to the castle and an attendant opened the door for her, Sofia thought of dropping Lev off and returning to Papa’s mansion.

“Come on, Soful.” Lev pushed her out as he got off.

Up this close, Raven Castle looked as though whittled out of bone, a carcass of an enormous beast. Dark towers extended out of the structure, as numerous as a ribcage. The windows were alight and ballroom music flooded through the open doors, but it didn’t make the sight any less intimidating. What made it worse was Lev staggering. Her chaperone was wasted, and she knew no one else.

Disheartened, she made up her mind and twirled back to the carriage, but it was gone already. In its place, a brown coach with a gold bear crest had pulled up, Vietinghoff, and an exuberant young lord with an emerald cloak hopped out of it.

“Lev!” He draped his arm around her brother.

Sofia had only turned and now Lev was gone. The carriageway grew busy with boyars arriving, all young too, and she felt old and out of place. She stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck but didn’t see Papa’s coach anywhere. Out by the gate, she saw some plain ones without any crest. For hire, she assumed but she had no money. This was terrible.

She should go inside and find Lev, she supposed, and get a few coppers to hire a coach back to Papa’s. When she sat by the window with her macaw and imagined royal balls, she hadn’t taken into account she’d know no one, they’d all be younger and dressed tenfold better. The children of Boyar Duma all knew each other, they’d grown up together, and she was just some baba who’d wandered in from the slums.

All right, go in and find Lev. She could do this. The castle itself didn’t bite, probably… hopefully. Forcing one foot in front of the other, a step at a time, she headed inside through the open doors.

Three grand chandeliers, each larger than a carriage, hung from a tall domed ceiling over dark wooden stairs. Gold ribbons were tied along the railing for the guests to follow. The music was loud and echoed through the granite pillars. Heading up the red carpeted stairs, she passed sentinels who stood like fixtures. They were in charge of Raven security, she knew that, but they didn’t speak or move, wore darksteel face armor without mouth, just eye holes, and sent shivers up her spine.

She felt as though they were going to find out she didn’t belong here and kick her out for everyone to laugh at. Following a group of ladies all dressed as forest creatures she found the ballroom at least and took a breath of relief because it was dim and crowded. Surely, no one would notice her now. But squinting at the masked faces passing by her, she couldn’t find Lev either. She spotted two other people dressed as foxes, though.

Riddled with anxiety, she grabbed a glass from a drink tray. That one was a potion—no idea what it did. She tried another, and it was straight vodka. Saints have mercy, the floor swiveled already.

The lighting in the ballroom was subtle, and shadows flickered as the women’s hems twirled. The candlelight reflected on the polished wooden floor like the glimmer of a star studded sky, and the orchestra’s brass section announced the beginning of the ball as couples lined up for the dance. Half the crowd moving to the dance floor, Sofia found herself a chair at an empty table.

A server passed by her, and only now she thought to ask for wine. While she waited for that, she watched the ballroom. Raised as a lady, she knew the dance, of course, she’d just never seen this many people at once except for at the church.

Someone came up from behind her, and thinking it was the server bringing her wine, she turned with a smile, then quickly looked away—a sentinel. She pretended not to notice him as he came around and stood in front of her.

“May I ask you who you are?”

He didn’t sound hostile, and Sofia lifted her gaze. The sentinel had his face armor flipped up on his midnight crown, and his eyes were dark. He was young, perhaps Lev’s age, and had features too sharp to be handsome but he was striking, nonetheless. His hands clasped behind the back, she couldn’t see his vambrace but the black attire with metal buckles made him unmistakably sentinel.

“May I ask why you’re asking?” She tried to sound rude. Courtiers probably weren’t used to being questioned by soldiers.

“You look very much like Lady Yelizaveta,” he said. Sofia frowned. He was too young to have known her mother because she’d died birthing her. Perhaps reading her confusion, he said, “I’ve seen a painting of her. You look exactly like her.”

“She was my mother. I’m Sofia. I came with Lev. I’m a Guard.”

“You’re very beautiful, Lady Sofia of Guard. Do you want to dance?”

“No.”

“Do you mind if I sit down with you?”

She didn’t understand. So she looked down and teased phantom wrinkles out of her dress, then realized he was waiting for her to answer, and gestured at the seat next to her.

“Thank you,” he said.

Her wine finally came, and she guzzled it. Then something occurred to her, struck her like a lightning bolt. It was something Lev had said. He’d used another word, but sentinels acted as courtesans. He probably thought she had money, but sadly she didn’t. And because she spent most of her time alone and was socially inept, her tongue spoke before her brain could tell it not to.

“I don’t have any money.” Eternal shame. She could have been far more diplomatic about it. Where in the necromancy hell was Lev?

“What did you want to purchase, Lady Sofia?” he asked.

It was rather unfortunate the Guards were the wealthiest house yet none of it was hers. She’d never had anything… nice, and he was certainly nice looking. What was in that potion? Where was her head?

“Do you know where Lev Guard is? He’s my brother,” she said.

“He’s upstairs in the private chamber. I could take you to him, but he’s with his companion.”

Yeah, she hadn’t needed to know that. He’d grown up too fast. Now what? She was stuck. Was she supposed to ask when Lev would be done? This was a nightmare, not at all how she imagined royal balls were.

“Are you able to hire me a coach?” she asked.

“Of course, anything you want.”

“I’d like to go home, then.”

“So early?” he asked, cocking his head. “Are you having a bad time, Sofia?”

“I don’t have any money.” She shrugged.

“For the coach?” he asked.

For you! For you! She was trying to be polite and let him know he was wasting his time with her. There were a hundred other ladies, which made Sofia think Lev hadn’t been truthful when he claimed the ball was Boyar Duma only. There were only nine great families, but the ballroom was full. He probably didn’t want to lug the Illeivich girls around, which was fine, but abandoning her in a strange place alone was not. Now a courtesan was speaking to her and she wanted to pull her hair out because she didn’t know how to handle situations like these.

“I want to go home.” She got up.

“I’ll take you, Sofia.” He rose with her.

He walked with her as they left the ballroom. Right outside was a gathering area where the music was a little less intense, and it was well lit with candles along the walls. Gold rimmed mirrors hung spaced evenly, and powder blue chairs lined the walls. The wool carpet was woven to depict the tale of the firebird, and courtiers on it had gathered in groups, chattering and giggling.

Bright suddenly and the gold glimmering, the light bouncing off the walls, Sofia took a moment to let her eyes adjust.

“Are you all right, Sofia?” the sentinel asked.

Seeing him in the light, she realized he had scarlet eyes, not brown. They were—

“Aleksei!” A blonde girl in a flowy white dress grabbed his arm. “You may have my favor for the Royal Cup.” She was with her friends, and they giggled.

“Save it for Lev. He’s pretending to court you,” he said.

“You’re funny.” Her golden braid whipped around as she turned to Sofia, studying her up and down, then smiled and touched her choker. “Countess Illeivich, I assume. My necklace suits you. I have many more if you need to borrow any.” She grabbed Sofia’s arm, leaned forward, and said, “You’re very lovely for your age. I hope you enjoy your time in Krakova. If you need anything, just let me know. I’m Zoya Chartorisky, by the way.”

Yes, Sofia got that, and unlike what Lev had claimed, the girl was a pest.

“Aleksei.” Sofia turned to the sentinel. “Are you the queen’s nephew?”

“Yes.”

“Then, why are you talking to me?” She frowned.

“Was I not allowed to?” he challenged. “You are at Raven, Sofia, and I’m the captain of Her Majesty’s Imperial Sentinels. I don’t usually need permission to speak to guests.” And there it was, the conceit innate in all highborn men. In his case, justified, she supposed.

She was very glad to not have made a fool of herself talking more about money. But now she was unable to discern if he was toying with her—he probably was.

“Can you take me to my brother, please?” She didn’t feel safe and didn’t wish to get into any type of coach he hired for her. He wasn’t just a sentinel in the employ of the Shields, he was a Shield.

He hesitated, making her more paranoid, but said, “I’ll go get him if you’d wait here.”

She nodded.