Snow Like Ashes(36)

“I am. Would you mind an escort? I thought it might be a good time to get to know each other.” His eyes flick back to the parchment. “Well, properly.”

How far away could the ballroom be? “Yes, thank you.”

Theron offers me his arm. I pause, eyebrow cocked, before slipping my hand through it and resting my fingers on the green velvet of his sleeve.

“So,” I start as we pull to the left in the hall, “you’re the king of Cordell’s son. How’s that?”

Theron chuckles. “Beneficial sometimes, horrible others. You’re beautiful—how’s that?”

The heel of my shoe catches at a weird angle and I stumble forward. No one has called me that before. Dendera said I was a “pretty thing” once, and Mather … I exhale, running through every interaction I’ve ever had with him, and deflating a little as I do. He’s never said anything like that to me, and until now, I never realized he hadn’t—or how much I wanted him to. It makes me agonizingly aware of the fact that Theron’s looking at me, and I just stare at him, not sure what to do.

“Forgive me,” Theron says, his face pale. “I shouldn’t have been so forward. We’re still getting to know each other. I promise, over time you’ll see I’m much more charming than I first appear.”

“Well, I hope we get plenty of time alone together so you can convince me of your charm.” My eyes flash wide when I hear what I said. “Oh. No. I mean—well, I mean that, but not as presumptuously as it sounded.”

Theron bobs his head. “We have all the time you desire, Lady Meira. I will not rush you.”

We make another turn and one of the two grand staircases sweeps down in front of us. The giggly chatter of party guests mingles with the music lifting from the ballroom below, something light and string-based. Food smells drifts up—honey ham, lavender tarts, the sharper tang of alcohol, the nutty aroma of coffee. For a second I just breathe it all in, my stomach grumbling under the lush scents, then—

“Wait,” I say, my mind working over his words. “Won’t rush me to what?”

Theron’s face flashes with confusion, putting pieces together I can’t see, and he pulls back, taking his arm away from me. “No one’s told you,” he breathes.

At the same time, the pieces click in my head. “You know! You know what Noam and Sir and Mather—”

Theron nods. He’s got a serenity to him that Noam doesn’t have, something graceful and calm that makes every move look deliberate. “Yes,” he whispers. He looks to the railing, the ballroom below, and back at me. “I … I’m sorry. I assumed someone told you. My father and King Mather have come to an arrangement. We aid Winter—”

I clap with delight. Sir did it! Winter has an ally.

But Theron isn’t done. “—so long as we are linked with Winter.”

My hands freeze mid-clap. “Linked?”

He exhales. I feel him take my hand before I see it, his skin warming my fingers in a grip that’s tight, intimate.

I jerk back, slamming into a small decorative table behind me. The vase on it falls over and clatters on the floor, water and flowers sullying the thick carpet.

But I just stare at Theron. King Mather made a deal with Noam.

He linked Cordell with Winter. Through me.



11


I’M A PAWN they used to create an alliance with Cordell.

My tongue sticks in my throat, choking me as I stand there, staring at Theron. This has to be a figment of my overly active imagination, because the king of Cordell would never agree to wed his son—the heir of one of the richest Rhythms—to a mere peasant from a Season. I’m wrong. I have to be.

“Tell me Mather linked us to Cordell through a treaty, or something. A meaningless piece of paper,” I beseech him. “Tell me this isn’t … what I think it is.”

But Theron doesn’t say anything, which only feeds my panic more. His mouth opens absently, but he just sighs, his eyes flitting over me in silence.

I grip my stomach, the fabric of the gown smooth against my fingers, and swallow the tight knot in my throat. Mather did this. My chest swells with a new emotion—betrayal. How could he—why did he—no. No. I will not lose my mind over this, because it still doesn’t make any sense. Why would Cordell agree to take me? There has to be something Mather and Sir didn’t tell me.

Well, obviously there’s a lot they didn’t tell me, but they’re down at the ball right now. And I will make them talk.

“Are you all right?” Theron finally speaks, but he doesn’t try to touch me again. This would be easier if he was horrible, if he didn’t care if I was all right. But he looks hurt. Is he just a pawn too?