The Gifted Heart (Marks of Inheritance: The Orkeia Cycle #1)

13. Playing the Part

Chapter thirteen

Playing the Part

A s much as I wanted to find the Grisons, I didn’t dare try to explore the islands in spirit after that. I’d never seen one before, but I felt certain that the creature in my room two nights in a row was a demon. How it escaped the Land of the Lost and why it was interested in me remained mysteries, but there wasn’t any other explanation. And while I knew little about demons and the workings of the Lost One, I knew enough to know that leaving my body unprotected when there was one around was extremely unwise.

This meant that, at least for now, I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. I was sure no one would stop me from leaving the castle, but then what? Finding my way out of the city would be hard enough, and I had no idea where to go from there. And for all I knew, this demon would just follow me wherever I went. There was no way to tell if it was attached to the castle or to me. I knew there were certain types of stones that could be used as a magical focus to protect an area from evil, but I obviously didn’t have anything with me and I couldn’t think of a natural way to ask for them.

Luckily, when Abigail brought my breakfast in the morning, I noticed a small bowl of salt on the tray next to the food. It wasn’t nearly as effective as other things, but it at least would provide some sort of protection. While she picked out my dress for the day, I took it from the tray and slipped it into the top drawer of my nightstand so I could line my room with it later that evening.

To my relief, the visitations stopped. I still didn’t feel confident enough in my defenses to attempt to leave my body again, but at least I was able to sleep through the night. As the days went on, I made it a habit to regularly refresh my supply of salt from my breakfast trays, not wanting to take any chances that the demon would come back and catch me off guard.

I fell into a reluctant routine at the castle. My lessons with Miss Grayson were by no means horrible—they were complete and utter torture. Everything I was required to do was either dim-wittingly simple or absolutely absurd, and I had to prove I could do it over and over again. I wasn’t given any freedom. Even when I wasn’t in that dreadful room, the maids and butlers monitored my actions and reported to Miss Grayson.

The one positive thing about the lessons was walking to and from them with Abigail. She was charming, lighthearted, and my same age. I learned about two weeks after I arrived that her surprise at my outburst that first day came from the fact that no one aside from other servants had asked her name before.

“How long have you been a maid, Abigail?” I asked.

“About three years.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And no one’s asked your name before?”

“As long as the job gets done, it doesn't matter who does it, M’Lady. If someone knows your name, it’s usually because you’ve made a mistake.”

My nose wrinkled in disgust. “Why do you work here?”

Her face fell. “My mum died when I was young, and my dad was killed by a sorcerer when the Great War first started. I have three younger brothers, M’Lady. We had no way to support ourselves, so I came here so they wouldn’t have to live on the streets. People aren’t always friendly, but it’s good work and pays well. I send all my earnings to my brothers.”

I stared down at the expensive carpet beneath my feet. I’d always lived in a society where, instead of money, we shared our talents and provisions with others in return for theirs. I couldn’t imagine having to sacrifice as Abigail had.

We arrived at Miss Grayson’s door, and Abigail left in polite silence. Sighing, I lightly tapped on the door. Ladies didn’t knock , but they didn’t just open doors either. When Miss Grayson first said that, I almost asked if I was supposed to wait at the door and hope someone inside sensed my presence. I thought better of it.

She opened the door, her lips pursed as always, and curtsied in greeting. I did the same, making sure my eyes didn’t leave hers. The only person whose eyes you avoid is the king, since everyone else should feel you are either superior or equal to them.

“Your curtsy is too low,” she criticized as I straightened. “And you rose too quickly.”

I attempted the feat once more and, though she was still unsatisfied, I apparently improved enough to be let into the room. The door slammed behind me, something I thought very unladylike, but which Miss Grayson persisted to do each and every morning. I felt that way about a lot of things she said and did, but what would be the point of contesting them? Even if the customs didn’t make sense to me, this wasn’t my society, and whether I liked it or not, she was the one the king had chosen to teach me the ways of the court.

So I was subject to Miss Grayson’s lessons about dining etiquette, how to walk around different people, how to speak when in the presence of royalty versus knights, how to give orders to servants—all things that were completely useless. I thought that at least learning about history might be interesting, but all she wanted me to do was memorize the names of the kings. If I asked questions about events in the kingdom’s history, they were dismissed.

The only lessons I didn’t seem to be utterly failing were reading and writing. Miss Grayson seemed surprised that I knew how to read and write at all and kept trying to catch me copying something she’d written rather than coming up with the words on my own. It was one of the skills Elizabeth had taught me when I was young, and I realized now that I had been taking it for granted. Apparently, in Ungifted society it wasn’t common at all for women to learn to read and write unless they were from wealthy or noble families. Still, if Mrs. Grayson was impressed, she didn’t let it show, instead focusing on criticizing my handwriting and insisting I practice calligraphy for an hour or more each day.

Miss Grayson’s harshness wasn’t the only reason I didn’t enjoy being locked up in the castle. From the king’s perspective, I had more freedom than half the kingdom. From mine, I had little more than a prisoner. Every second of my day was scheduled for me, and I was obliged to follow that schedule if I wanted to avoid suspicion.

It was a huge relief when Abigail informed me one morning that Miss Grayson was feeling ill and I didn’t have any lessons to attend. Instead, Isaiah and I took the opportunity to spend some time together in the gardens. We obviously had to be careful about what we talked about in public, but given the fact that everyone believed he was my uncle, it wasn’t hard for him to find ways to tell me stories about him and my mother. He didn’t mention her magic, of course, but instead talked about how she helped her uncle around their farm, how she laughed at the smallest things, and how she was always looking for ways to help those in need. It was clear how much he loved and missed her, and I resolved that if I ever had access to summoning candles again, I would find a way for them to see each other once more, however briefly.

A thought occurred to me as we left the gardens just before dinner, and I slowed my pace and lowered my voice.

“What if we left?” I asked. “We could search for my clan, or another…”

Isaiah sighed, his lips tightening into a frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kenna.”

“Why not? Why would you want to stay?”

“You’re safe here,” he said, stopping and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Out there, you’d just be running again until your people were inevitably found.”

“But what if someone finds out the truth here?” I whispered. “Isn’t that even more dangerous?”

“As long as you’re not careless, no one will find out,” he insisted .

I opened my mouth to respond, but held my thoughts as hurried steps approached from the front entrance of the castle. A young man ran around the corner, stopping when he saw us.

“Sir Balton,” he panted, bowing sloppily. “Excuse me, Sir, but your presence is requested in the council room.”

My father raised his eyebrows. “By whom?”

“His Majesty the king, Sir.”

My father and I exchanged glances. He hurried after the servant as I heard running from the other direction. Abigail ran straight for me. She stopped and curtsied deeply, looking at the floor and not my eyes, before speaking.

“I am to prepare you for dinner with the king, M’Lady,” she said.

I nodded, and we rushed up the stairs. I couldn’t imagine why the king summoned Isaiah to the council room, but my being prepared to meet him wasn’t a surprise. There had been much talk over the past few days of the king’s returning and that a banquet would be held in his honor. Since I lived in the castle as a member of the court, I knew I would be attending whether I wanted to or not.

Abigail opened the door to my wardrobe and stepped to the side. “Which one would you like to wear, M’Lady?”

I finally cracked. “Would you please stop calling me that?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“My name is Kenna,” I said. “I understand you’re being respectful, but it’s ridiculous. I’m not a noble. I’m just a girl the king took pity on. I don’t want you to avert your eyes when you curtsy to me, and I don’t want you to call me by any silly titles. We’re equals, Abigail.”

She blinked again, and a smile slowly formed on the edges of her lips. “If Miss Grayson heard you say that, she would refuse to teach you.”

I smirked. “Then maybe I should say it again tomorrow.”

My smirk turned into a grin when she started laughing. There had been many times when I could tell she was about to laugh, but she always suppressed the impulse. To see her let down her guard was comforting, and I felt the first real sense of happiness I had since I learned Isaiah was my father.

“All right then, Kenna,” she said when she gained control of her laughter. “Which dress would you like to wear to the banquet?”

I shrugged. “Why don’t you pick, Abi?”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname, and she spun to face the dresses, biting her lip. Eyes shining, she snatched a deep red gown with beautiful floral designs on the bodice and held it up to me. “You’ll look wonderful in this color.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Usually getting dressed in the uncomfortable clothing I was expected to wear was a chore, but for once, I actually enjoyed the process. There was plenty of laughter involved, and Abi even asked for my opinion on my hair. For the first time since I’d arrived at the castle, I was able to wear it down, even though according to Miss Grayson this was a sign of someone who was uneducated and simple. Personally, I thought my hair looked better when it was left to fall mostly at its own will, with maybe a few curls pinned up to make it look more refined. Abi agreed.

Besides, I was tired of doing everything Miss Grayson told me to do. I didn’t belong to her society, so why should I follow her rules? Most of them were ridiculous anyway. And if the king thought I was unable to master being a lady, he might dismiss me from the castle, leaving me free to go wherever I wished without any suspicion. It had become more and more clear as I’d spent time here in the castle that my initial plan of trying to take things down from the inside wasn’t one I was actually capable of carrying out, but I also knew I couldn’t exactly just leave now that the king had extended his welcome to me. But by rebelling in small ways, such as leaving my hair down and showing up late to gatherings, I could make him less inclined to keep me here as part of his household.

As Abi finished fussing with my hair, the golden idea struck me. If I disrespected him directly, I would no doubt be dismissed from the castle. All it would take was some eye contact as I curtsied—a simple statement that I didn’t consider myself inferior to him. It would be so easy, and within the week I would be free.

I followed Abi to the dining room. The doors were wide open when we arrived. She bid me goodnight, leaving me to the care of my guardian and the king. The dining table had been temporarily moved for dancing prior to the meal, and a small group of musicians sat at the end of the hall playing lively music. Isaiah was already present, as were all the king’s captains. I recognized Captain Stole, but his countenance appeared quite a bit older than at breakfast a month ago. On the other side of the hall, Lewin stood in a corner, but he didn’t seem as dreary as usual. In fact, I thought I saw some twisted happiness in his eyes, and I shivered.

The room was also full of people I had not seen at my initial breakfast in the castle. Clearly, local nobility had been invited to join the captains and king in celebrating their return. There were a number of young women mingling among the knights, all of them dressed in fine fabric with corset bodices so tight that I was surprised they could breathe. There were a variety of hairstyles represented, some of them looking ridiculous to me with the way their hair was piled on top of their heads, but notably none of them were left down as mine was. They also seemed to be wearing heavy makeup, some of them with skin so powdered that they almost looked like statues.

Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Lady Kenna Balton!”

I jumped as the servant announced my arrival. All eyes turned in my direction, and many of them filled with surprise. Even my father couldn’t help but stare at my hair, knowing how out of place the style was.

The king approached from where he’d been mingling with some of the nobles. Like when I’d first met him, I was surprised by his kind and welcoming countenance. The story of how he lost his parents returned to my mind, and once again I felt a kinship and understanding as I thought of my own experiences.

I found myself studying his face, searching for any sign of the monster that still lived in my mind. Instead, I was struck by how young he was, and how handsome. For this banquet, he wore his dark blonde hair down instead of pulled back, the slight waves perfectly framing his clean-shaven face and strong square jaw. His dark blue eyes held a softness within them that didn’t match what one would expect from the regal and imposing presence of the king. As I stared into those eyes, I didn’t feel like I was in the presence of royalty or a threat. In fact, they reminded me of Gideon’s eyes.

When he reached me, I forced those thoughts aside. Remembering my earlier decision, I lowered myself into a deep curtsy, but I kept my eyes locked on his. I saw a flash of shock in his blue eyes, but his face remained impassive. A strange sensation went through my body as I straightened, but I didn’t break eye contact.

Whispers echoed across the room—the act of defiance had certainly been noted. And yet, he didn’t seem angry or frustrated. In fact, I thought I saw a smile on his lips. My mind filled with confusion as I tried to discern what he was thinking, and for some reason I felt like it was a little harder to breathe.

The musicians ended their song and moved on to the next. The captains, noblemen, and ladies resumed their conversations. A few couples moved toward the center of the room, and I realized they were about to start one of the kingdom’s most popular dances, one that Miss Grayson had taught me just the day before. As the dancers formed their position, King Kiernan held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

I felt a tightening in my chest. Nervousness?

“I would be honored,” I breathed.

He smiled. The tightening in my chest intensified. His fingers intertwined with mine and he led me onto the dance floor. Already, I felt like I was tripping over my feet. A slight shiver ran down my spine as he placed his other hand on the small of my back. My eyes remained locked on his. As we danced, we hardly broke eye contact for more than a few seconds.

When the music ended, he bowed and I curtsied. Again, I did not avert my eyes. He took my left hand and kissed it before escorting me to Isaiah’s side. The next dance began, and he returned to the dance floor with a new dance partner, a very thin blonde woman who had a long face. Her small, narrow eyes glanced towards me briefly before they began to dance

“You made quite an entrance,” my father muttered, making sure no one else could overhear us.

I noticed with alarm that I was still staring in the king’s direction and tore my eyes away.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he said, an edge to his voice. “That was very dangerous, Kenna.”

Not as dangerous as it should have been . My eyes wandered back to the king. Why had he not been more offended by my actions? Everyone else in the room obviously did not approve, but he had immediately asked me to dance. It didn’t feel like a challenge as we maintained eye contact—I almost felt he agreed that I was no less than him. I shook my head at myself. He was the king, and had been taught his entire life he was superior to all those around him.

So why hadn’t he reacted?

After two more dances (neither of which I was asked to participate in) the king clapped his hands. Servants entered the hall, quickly setting up the banquet. I took a seat next to Isaiah on the left side of the table, tensing when Lewin sat directly across from me. The socializing continued as wine was brought to each guest. When everyone’s glasses were full, King Kiernan stood, causing immediate silence.

“Today is a day to be celebrated,” he said, raising his glass. “For today marks our return from a very successful mission.”

There was a rounding “Huzzah!” from the captains, but he motioned for silence with his free hand. “As you are all aware, for the past month I have been traveling with the best of my knights through Fain and Hairan. I am delighted to tell you all that we were successful in finding and destroying four encampments of witches, from which no one escaped.”

There was applause from the women at the table and the men again sounded a cheer. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. Isaiah squeezed my hand under the table, but it didn’ t calm my nerves.

Just moments ago I’d been unable to take my eyes off of him, almost admiring him. How could I have lost sight of what he really was? How could I have forgotten what this man was doing to my people?

What if they found the Grisons? Were Neal and Gideon dead? My mind flashed back to the dream I had my first night in the castle. I fought back tears.

The captains shared their stories from the conquest, as did the king himself. I closed my eyes tightly and willed my body not to shake with agony and anger as they made toast after toast, their laughter filling the air. After what felt like hours of torture, the king stood, jerking me from my thoughts. The rest of the table also stood out of respect. I was the slowest to my feet, but I don’t think anyone noticed my hesitation.

“Thank you all for coming!” he said, laughter in his voice and joy in his eyes. “I hope we have many similar celebrations in the future. Good night!”

The men bowed and the women curtsied before dispersing. Isaiah and I were two of the last people to leave aside from the king and his captain of the guard. Both sets of eyes followed me as I left. A deep sigh of relief escaped my lips when the doors closed behind me.

We walked in silence to my room. I was about to enter without a word, but I felt Isaiah’s strong hand on my shoulder and turned to face him instead.

“Be careful, Kenna,” he said after a moment, a troubled frown on his face. “With how you behave around the king and with your emotions.”

“So I’m supposed to pretend I didn’t just hear that four clans were murdered?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said grimly. “I know it’s difficult, and likely even feels impossible, but you must play the part to remain safe.” His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

Then we should leave , I thought to myself, but the knot in my throat was so tight that I couldn’t form the words. Isaiah’s frown deepened as I turned away from him and shut my door between us.

I tried unsuccessfully to distract myself by going through my nightly routine of replenishing the salt protecting the room, but soon I was sobbing. My body shook as I collapsed on the bed, not bothering to undress, burying my face in the pillow. It felt like hours before I managed to drift off to sleep.