By evening, the ballroom at Shekerishet glittered. Prismed candleholders sent rays of colored light across the dance floor. Banks of candles filled the air with the scent of the gardens that were sacred to the Childe. Dancers clad in brilliant silk costumes waved streamers high into the air, their belled wrists and ankles adding to the music. Out in the courtyard, candles in ornately decorated pierced-tin lanterns traced out complicated glyphs and sigils in the snow, magical markings that shifted and glowed. Prisms and chimes hung from every tree and doorway, and bonfires lit up the night. Those who were not a part of the night's high feast could eat their fill from the vendors in the courtyard who sold bread, sausages, candied fruit and ale.
"Skrivven for your thoughts," Alle said, leaning toward Kiara.
Inside the castle's ballroom, musicians kept the partygoers cheering with lively tunes. Macaria was playing, and Kiara knew that the sudden chill in the air was not due to the cold outside. As Macaria played her lute, the ghosts of Shekerishet drew closer, listening as the girl's magic soothed them, swaying their mood and the emotions of the partygoers. Across the room, Kiara could see Carroway watching Macaria with unabashed admiration.
"He's completely smitten with her—and she never seems to notice."
Alle chuckled. "She notices. And she'd probably never let it show, since you're the queen and she knows how close you are to Carroway. She's convinced herself she doesn't stand a chance with him."
"But he's in love with her."
"Macaria isn't from a titled family. She's earned her court position on the magic of her music. Carroway found her playing in taverns for her living and brought her to the palace. So even though he's just a year or so older, he was her patron. Carroway's the king's best friend, Margolan's master bard, and a hero of the revolution."
"On the road last year, Carroway must have written a dozen songs for her when we were at Westmarch."
"And you've decided to play matchmaker?"
"How do you think Jonmarc and Carina got together? Berry and I put a lot of nudging into that one." She gave Alle a sideways glance. "Not that you and Soterius need any help;"
Alle laughed. "We'll see."
Macaria finished her song to thunderous applause, and she bowed. She gave a curtsey in Kiara's direction, and then went backstage with the rest of the minstrels. Kiara looked up to see Lady Eadoin headed her way.
"Aunt Eadoin—I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Alle said, rising.
Eadoin gave Alle a peck on the cheek and curtsied to Kiara. "Your Majesty," she said. "You look well tonight."
Kiara smiled as the elderly matron took a seat. "Thank Cerise. She's gotten my stomach settled enough to keep down a few bites, for show."
"Your gyregon will be grateful for the remainder, I'm sure," Eadoin said, looking indulgently at Jae. Though the others at court might regard the small gyregon as a pet, tonight, Jae played the role for which his breed had long been regarded by the kings of East-mark. The guests might think that Kiara was indulging the creature by giving him the first bites of her food, but Jae was her taste tester, able with the gyregon's keen sense of smell to detect poison. So far, Jae had been content to wolf down all the tidbits provided to him.
Around them, the tables were heaped with the bounty of the feast. Platters of roasted venison, a whole boar, and spiced meat pies offered food enough for all. Servants were at the ready to refill goblets of dark mead and mulled wine, while others brought out the egg custards and rich puddings that were customary on this night.
Kiara laid a hand on Alle's arm. "Where are the vayash moru? I don't even see Mikhail."
"I'd heard that when the king left for battle, many of the vayash moru felt it best to stay away. After all that the Usurper did against their kind, they weren't sure of their welcome in public without King Martris's presence."
"That's ridiculous. Mikhail knows he's welcome here."
Eadoin leaned forward. "I'm sure he knows, m'lady. Perhaps he and the other vayash moru don't wish to place you in an awkward situation when you're so new to Margolan. Jared didn't invent fear of the vayash moru—he just gave people permission to act on what was already in their hearts. And, sad to say, for those who fear the undead, King Martris's support for the vayash moru hasn't banished those fears—it's just made it unpopular to voice them aloud."
"Then I'm doubly grateful to Mikhail for staying on."
A blare of trumpets silenced all conversation. "That's your cue," Eadoin said, with a glance toward Kiara. Kiara smoothed her skirts, ready for her formal part in the program.
"Gracious guests, welcome to the feast," Kiara said in a clear, strong voice. This was her first formal role since the wedding,' and many in the audience strained for a better look at their new queen. "This night, we praise the Mother and Childe for the reign of King Martris, and we ask the Lady's blessing on the king in battle and on Margolan's heir," she said, laying a hand on her belly for emphasis.
A murmur rippled through the crowd that grew to rousing cheers in support of the king. Kiara waited until the clamor subsided before she went on. "It's time to make an offering to the Mother and Childe, so Margolan may prosper in the year to come."
Crevan appeared beside her bearing a silver platter. On it was a ramekin of egg custard for an offering to the Lady, along with a flask of port and a freshly baked loaf of bread. He walked beside her as Kiara descended from the dais. The bells at her ankles and wrists chimed as she moved. As they approached the two large statues of Margolan's patron aspects, Kiara took the ramekin from the platter and offered it to the statue of the Childe. "Honored Childe, bless the people and the herds of Margolan. May our children and our flocks increase."
She took the loaf of bread and the flask of port and bowed to the statue of the Mother. "Wise Mother. Accept our gift. Bring water enough for our fields and our people, and healthy crops."
Formalities completed, the musicians struck up a lively tune, and couples on the dance floor wove through round after round of the most popular dances at court. Kiara was grateful that she was not expected to join them. Much as she enjoyed dancing, she doubted she could keep her dinner and swirl through the steps, even had it not been unseemly to dance in the king's absence.
The revelries continued through the night. As the bells in the bailey tower chimed the hour before dawn. Kiara, Eadoin, and Alle led the guests toward the courtyard, where a parade of costumed revelers and more mulled wine awaited. Two servants opened the huge great room doors for the crowd to move into the grand foyer.
In the center of the floor lay a man's body in a pool of blood, throat torn open, eyes staring. Behind Kiara, a woman screamed.
The guards formed a tight circle around Kiara. Tov Harrtuck pushed his way through the crowd, followed by more guards. Crevan came running from the far side of the entranceway. "Your Majesty, this isn't safe—" "Nowhere's safe," Kiara replied. "What happened?" Behind them, the soldiers tried to dispel the crowd, but the revelers surged forward, straining for a look at the body on the floor.
"They found a second body in the back corridor," Harrtuck said. "It's got all the marks of a vayash moru killing."
"That's not possible," Kiara said. "There aren't any vayash moru here tonight."
"Except Mikhail," Crevan said. "No one's seen him all night."
"That's impossible," Kiara said. She heard the sound of boot steps drawing near in the corridor. Behind Harrtuck, six soldiers marched in tight formation, and Kiara could see a dark-haired figure in their midst.