The Little Selkie (retail) (21 page)

Dooley is going to die of happiness
, Dylan thought as she studied her reflection and smiled at her dress, necklace, and belt.
Not only is Cagney wearing the things he gave her, but he tricked her into letting him escort her.

Dylan’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. Dylan took one last glance in the mirror, grabbed her slate, and opened her door.

Callan wore a white waistcoat and pants with black boots and a black vest. When he saw Dylan, his smile was small, but the warmth in his eyes made her want to shrink. She didn’t deserve to be looked at like that, not when she was failing so badly with her mission to stop Jarlath and the sea witch.
But I’m smart enough to know this can’t last, and selfish enough to accept it anyway. Tonight, I’m going to enjoy myself with my friends.
Dylan smiled as she stepped out of the room and curtsied.

“You look beautiful, Dylan,” Callan said as he took her hand.

Dylan squeezed his hand in response and together the pair—with Bump and Lump shadowing them—walked hand in hand to the main wing of the palace.

The palace was open in all of its splendor. The first ball she’d attended had been glorious, but it was simple compared to this. As they walked, Dylan saw that, in three different patios attached to the ballroom, there were little tide pools the size of her bed. Each sandy-bottomed pool served as a mini habitat. Brightly colored fish the size of Dylan’s hand darted around crabs, starfish, sea urchins, barnacles, and more. Beautiful shells were arranged to shine in the light from the torches mounded around the tide pools, and the marble steps that formed the walls of the pool were covered with emerald cushions with saffron accents so guests could sit down and look in.

Trained sea birds—seagulls, white tailed tropicbirds, gannets, petrels, and even an albatross—were perched on gold stands and in golden cages. Guests were allowed to remove the birds from their perches and fly them outside. The birds’ trainers—on hand with buckets of little fish—would whistle, calling the birds back to their side.

Half the guests had arrived by the time Dylan and Prince Callan finished exploring.

Jarlath was there—along with his two friends—working their way through the liquor choices. When he caught sight of Dylan and Callan he spat out his drink, spilling liquor down his waistcoat, and stared. Dylan—and Bump and Lump so it seemed by his reaction—had neglected to tell Jarlath who was escorting her to the party.

They sailed past Dylan’s shocked “guardian” and had time to wave to Lord Dooley and Cagney—Lord Dooley looked halfway decent for once, wearing a respectable black waistcoat and a vest in a bright shade of red—before Callan directed them to the marble dais where the royal family stood.

“Good evening, Dylan. Have you seen the tide pools yet?” Prince Viggo asked with a grin.

Dylan smiled widely.

“I thought you would like those. Oop. Here comes mother,” Prince Viggo grimaced before straightening and holding out his arm to the young lady he was escorting. On Viggo’s other side were Princess Fianna and her escort—a young lord. Princess Fianna curtsied to Callan and Dylan. Her eyes swept over Dylan, but she said nothing. She had always been more reserved with the selkie than her siblings were, but since the bandit attack, she was prone to eye Dylan like she was a water horse.

Several horns trumpeted, and King Rory and Queen Etain entered the ballroom, cutting the room in half as they walked towards the marble dais.

All present bent over in bows and curtsies, making the room an ocean in the hypnotic wave of the mass movement. The royal siblings and their partners waited until the king and queen climbed the dais before performing their own bows and curtsies.

King Rory nodded at his children and took up his position in the center of the dais, but the queen paused to greet her three oldest children. She embraced Fianna and said a kind word to her escort, kissed Viggo’s cheek, and smiled at his partner.

“Callan, you look so handsome,” the queen said when she reached Callan and Dylan. She kissed his cheek before turning her attention to Dylan. “And Miss Dylan, you look lovely,” she said, her smile fond. “I owe you a great deal. Perhaps more than I thought,” she said, glancing at Viggo and Fianna. “Thank you for your bravery.”

Dylan offered the queen a curtsey.
If only you knew
, she thought, but was touched by the queen’s kind attention.

The queen squeezed Dylan’s free hand before moving on to join her husband.

“Thank you for attending the annual Ringsted Summer Ball,” King Rory said, his voice booming in the silence. “It is with great joy that we mark our summer season, and we take pleasure in the bounty and growth the summer provides.

“As is custom,” the king continued, “the ball will be opened by my royal children—Prince Callan, Princess Fianna, and Prince Viggo—and their partners. Thank you, and enjoy yourselves.”

Dylan turned to look at Callan with raised eyebrows. He hadn’t mentioned anything about “opening” the ball.

Catching her look, Callan gave her a teasing smile. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. We can dance anyway you choose. You’ll enjoy it,” he said, starting down the stairs. When Callan tugged on her hand, Dylan followed. Princess Fianna and her escort, and then Viggo and his partner, followed behind them.

The empty dance floor waited. Only the royal siblings and their partners stood in the middle of the immense space.

Dylan eagerly shifted her weight as the musicians—two flute players, three violinists, and what Dylan now knew to be a mandolin player and a harpist—eased into a slow song.

Fianna and Viggo started to dance with their partners, Dylan waited for Callan to lead, but he didn’t move his feet.

Callan kept his hand in hers and placed his other hand on his waist before leaning in to whisper, “Dance as if you were going to dance for me. I’ll keep up,” he promised.

Dylan thought for a moment before she nodded. She waited to get a feel for the music before leading Callan forward.

Viggo and his partner danced in a slow box, repeating the few steps over and over. Fianna and her escort moved a little more, but they stayed together, slowly turning in a circle.

Dylan and Callan, however, crossed from one side of the dance floor to the other. Callan would twirl her, and Dylan would twist away from him before drawing near again, like waves to the shore. They twined through the dance floor, sometimes facing each other before Dylan would duck under Callan’s arm, then they would move side by side before Dylan twirled around Callan.

Once or twice, Callan shocked Dylan by sliding her down in a dip, but he always managed to pop her upright again.

Viggo and his partner had all but stopped dancing. Instead they watched Callan and Dylan glide by like swans landing in water. Fianna kept going with her partner, but Dylan saw the reserved princess flash her older brother a smile once or twice.

When the song finished, Callan raised Dylan’s hand in his own before bending over in a bow, tugging Dylan into a curtsey. His siblings mirrored him, and all three couples quit the dance floor as swiftly as possible while the guests clapped.

“That was terrifying,” Viggo cheerfully said as their parents joined them on the main floor.

“You did well, children,” King Rory said, his posture stiff from nerves. Now that the royal children had danced, a new song began and couples flooded the dance floor. “No accidents. Always a plus.”

“You all looked lovely,” Queen Etain said. “Enjoy yourselves, but remember your duty as royalty,” she warned.

“Yes, Mother,” her children chorused before slipping into the crowd.

Callan and Dylan turned to go, but before they could slip away, Queen Etain called after them.

“Callan, Miss Dylan, if I may have a moment?”

Dylan turned back to face the queen, Callan with her.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Miss Dylan, where did you learn to dance like that?” Queen Etain asked.

My family
, Dylan wrote.

Queen Etain tilted her head and studied Dylan. “I see.”

Why do you ask?
Dylan wrote.

“It was quite beautiful, but it’s not the sort of dance that normally graces these halls. I have seen a similar dance, twice before I married the king,” she said, glancing at her anxious husband.

Where did you see it?
Dylan asked.

“A small coastal village, near my family’s holding,” Queen Etain said.

Dylan stared at the queen. Did the queen know about selkies? Occasionally, they slipped into human celebrations, but only if they
really
liked the people.
No wonder King Rory married you. You must come from a tremendous and honorable family
, Dylan thought, a surge of affection for the motherly queen rushing her heart.

“Is that all, Mother?” Callan asked.

“Yes. Enjoy yourselves,” the queen said.

“Of course,” Callan said.

Can we find Cagney and Dooley?
Dylan asked.

“Yes, although I am sorry to say that since you are my partner, you must circulate the party with me and dance with a number of lords and government officials,” Callan warned her.

I’ll find a way to make it worthwhile
, Dylan promised, and she did. To her sorrow, she wasn’t able to chat much with Cagney and Dooley before dinner. Too many men kept asking her to dance or tried to speak with her whenever Callan was dancing with a lady. However, Dylan learned that she could lead the men to the tables of food, allowing her to stuff her face and glean information from previously untapped sources.

She asked the older lords if they had been affected by the banditry and the younger men if they had witnessed any of the heists. She spoke with the ladies, inquired who belonged to families that were in the businesses of trade, and kept a watchful eye on Lady Kallah—although the snotty girl and her friends kept to the far side of the ballroom and did not once look in her direction.

Dylan received varying answers to her questions—none that illuminated Jarlath’s banditry practices—but she enjoyed herself, although she thought her sudden surge of popularity a little odd.

Is it because Prince Callan is my escort?
It makes sense, I suppose. He is their future ruler—although it is unnerving they are so quick to change their mind.

Dylan shook her head to clear the concerns from her mind and refocused on her conversation partners.

“The price of tea and spices is the highest it has been in a century,” Lord Padriac said.

Lady Cayleen of Fowl Feather Merchants & Sons & Daughter—one of Cagney’s business idols—raised a hand to smooth her gray hair. “Indeed,” she sniffed. “And the varieties have become terribly limited.”

“Can’t be helped,” Lord Padriac said, twisting his wedding ring on his finger. “All of us merchants are selling stock straight from our storehouses now—no new goods are entering or leaving Ringsted.”

If no new goods are popping up, Jarlath is definitely selling his stolen merchandise elsewhere.
Dylan tilted her head as she pondered the matter before she wrote,
No one suspects there is something greater at work, and that is why the storms brew up and down the coast?

Lord Padriac shifted uncomfortably. “Well…”

“Spit it out, lad,” Lady Cayleen said.

“Rumor has it that black magic is at play.”

Are they finally catching on?
Dylan perked with interest and nodded to encourage the young lord.

“Before the ports and harbors closed, I heard stories of royalty being cursed, enchanters being taken captive—nothing good. And it seems that each country has been plagued by its own brand of trouble—like the goblins in Erlauf.”

“Or the witch queen in Arcainia—before she was slain. Oh yes, I heard it, too,” Lady Cayleen said when Dylan and Lord Padriac stared at her. “What you mean to say, young man, is that these storms may very well be how darkness has struck Ringsted.”

Lord Padriac slid his hands inside the pockets of his waistcoat. “Aye.”

“May the seas help us,” Lady Cayleen murmured.

“Or not,” Jarlath said.

Dylan rolled her eyes as he stepped into their circle.
How can one man be so
annoying
?

“Hallo, Padriac, Lady Cayleen,” Jarlath said.

Lord Padriac bowed shallowly. “If you’ll excuse me, I should go find my wife. I expect the dinner will start soon,” he said, his voice cool and stiff.

“I’ll go with you, lad,” Lady Cayleen said, sniffing at Jarlath before following the young lord.

Well, the high esteem afforded to me certainly does not extend to Jarlath. Hah!
Dylan thought as she watched the pair ease away from them.

Jarlath watched them go, a sneer budding on his lips, before he grabbed Dylan by the arm and yanked her closer. “So, thought I wouldn’t notice when you arrived with the crown prince?”

Dylan stared at Jarlath.
After all these weeks of inactivity,
tonight
is the night he finally deigns to take notice of my actions?