“So, listen,” Ridley said, filling the awkward silence that had fallen between us. “I’ve been looking for the right time to talk to you since you got back, and now seems as good as any.”

“Yeah?” I asked, lifting my eyes to meet his.

“I ended things with Juni.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I hoped I didn’t look as excited as I felt.

“It wasn’t fair to her,” he elaborated. “The way I was treating her. Juni is fantastic, and I did like her. But the truth is, I didn’t like her enough.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I said, just to say something.

He took a deep breath. “And there’s no point in dancing around things anymore. I have feelings for you, Bryn, very strong feelings, and I think you feel the same way.”

“I … you know … I…” I was too stunned to properly form a sentence, and I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.

Of course I had feelings for Ridley, and while part of me was thrilled to hear he felt the same way, nothing had changed. He was still my boss, the Överste, actually, which meant that we would both be in serious trouble if we were to get involved.

So what could I say to him? That I loved him, but it didn’t matter because we couldn’t be together? What would even be the point of admitting how I felt?

Through my shock and confusion, I realized something in the room had changed. Everyone had stopped dancing, and as I looked around the room the musicians stopped playing. Ilsa had been singing “Why Don’t You Do Right?” but just stopped mid-word.

Most of the light in the room came from fairy lights and candles, but someone flipped on the overhead light, blinding everyone. I lifted up my arm to shield my face, and I finally saw the reason for the change.

Reid Kasten, King Evert’s personal guard, stood at the entrance.

“Sorry to interrupt the festivities,” Reid announced, speaking loudly and clearly. “The King sent me here to retrieve Bryn Aven.”

I glanced over at Ridley, as if he would have some insight as to what this was about, but he shook his head.

“I’m right here.” I stepped onto the dance floor so Reid could more easily see me.

“The King wants to see you immediately.”

“What’s this about?” Ridley asked, stepping up behind me, and Reid regarded him with derision. “I’m the Överste. If something’s going on, I should go.”

“The King didn’t say what it was concerning,” Reid said, showing Ridley a bit more respect. “He tasked me with returning with Bryn Aven.”

Ridley looked as if he wanted to say more, so I held up my hand to stop him. “It’s okay.”

I cast Tilda an apologetic smile, since any summons had intruded on her celebration, and she pursed her lips in worry as Reid escorted me away from the dance floor and toward the palace.

THIRTY-SEVEN

lush

The walk to the palace had been cold. I’d put on boots out of necessity, but I hadn’t changed out of my light bridesmaid dress, and I’d only grabbed a violet cloak to keep out the chill. Since I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t want to waste any more time than I had to.

When we arrived at the palace, I slipped off my boots and cloak by the door. I expected Reid to lead me to the meeting room, but he took a different turn. Instead of going left toward the east wing of the palace where public affairs took place, he went right, taking me toward the private quarters.

“Where are we going?” I asked him.

“The King’s parlor,” Reid replied in a clipped tone, so I decided against pressing him further.

I’d only been in the private wing twice before, both for training purposes when I was still in tracker school, so it had been a while. Here the floors changed from cold, gray stone to pearlescent tile, purportedly brought in from Italy. Sheetrock covered the stone walls, painted ivory with faint silver flourishes to give it an added elegance. Instead of kerosene lamps, the halls were lit with bright dome lights.

Before we reached the room, I could hear Queen Mina. Her laughter carried through the closed door, and it sounded as if she’d affected the British accent again.

Reid knocked on the door and waited for us to be granted entrance, and I tried to figure out what exactly was happening. None of this made sense or was even remotely close to how things were usually done.

“Come in!” King Evert shouted, without checking to see who we were or what we wanted.

For his part, Reid continued to act as if it were business as usual. He opened the door for me then stood next to it inside the room and announced my arrival. But I barely registered it because I was too busy trying to make sense of the scene before me.

The King’s parlor was smaller than I’d expected. It only had room for a love seat, a sofa, and two sitting chairs—all of them high-backed tufted seats in a cream color. Above them hung a small but bright chandelier.

The walls were covered in wallpaper with alternating vertical bands of white and silver. On the wall opposite the door was a carved marble fireplace with a painting of Evert and Mina on their wedding day hanging it above it. To the left and pressed against the wall was an elegant bar made of mirrors with white baroque details.

The King lounged in the chair closest to the fireplace, one leg draped over the arm. The sleeves of his gray shirt were rolled up, and several buttons were undone. His black bangs hung over his forehead, and he had a highball glass in his hand, half full of a dark liquid.