Buried Above Ground by Leah Cypess Read Free Book Online Page B

feared.” Jano apparently didn’t notice that he was being ignored. He grinned at her, looping one leg over the arm of the chair. “She’s wearing breeches, though. And riding astride, like a man.”
    â€œAll the plains women ride astride,” Callie snapped.
    â€œHow barbaric. Lucky that you were brought up in a civilized country.”
    A traitorous part of her thought he was right, and was ashamed of her sister in her mannish clothes. Callie looked over Jano’s head at Prince Kestin, who was still scowling at his food as if it had offended him.
    Darri would be seventeen now, only four years younger than Kestin. Did her father really imagine that would make her a more acceptable bride? True, Callie had been too young, but that was only part of the problem. The real issue was that the Ghostlanders didn’t concern themselves with anyone outside their own kingdom. She had spent the last four years in an uncertain status, more an unwelcome guest than a hostage, and in all that time nobody had ever seemed to care why she was there. Even the royalty here married whomever they pleased within their own country, and had never before bothered seeking out foreigners for the sake of alliances.
    Not that it was relevant anymore. Not for Prince Kestin.
    A commotion erupted near the front of the banquet hall. The Guardian went striding past them, his two swords crossed at his back, the silver one catching the lamplight. The black iron mask on his face gleamed too, not quite as shiny as his sword. All at once the hall was silent. Prince Kestin looked up from his food, his face bleak and still.
    Oh, burial plots. Callie shoved her hands under the folds of her skirt to hide their shaking. “You said before daybreak!”
    Jano noticed the motion. His teeth gleamed white as he smiled. “Is it not before daybreak?”
    Callie bit her tongue to keep from saying something she would regret later. Annoying as Jano was, she couldn’t lose her only real friend at court. And to be fair, most ghosts liked to act as if they were above the petty concerns of the living. Deadheads , some of the living called them. Usually behind their backs.
    But Callie was still too foreign—would always, she knew, be too foreign—to dare say anything negative about the dead. So she just gave Jano a nasty look before turning to watch the spectacle.
    Varis strode in first. Her brother hadn’t changed much: tall and powerfully built, with a blunt, roughly hewn face. To her Raellian eyes, he looked underdressed without a sword on his hip. To her Ghostland eyes, he looked underdressed period. He had changed from his riding clothes and was wearing a black silk cape and breeches, his hair bound back in a long, tight braid. The silk meant this was finery, but it was ragged and coarse compared to even the simplest garments worn by the Ghostlanders. King Ais, in his velvet-trimmed robe and elaborately embroidered cape, his hair cut neatly at his shoulders, was clearly not sure whether this was the prince or an advance retainer.
    Of all the people in the hall, Callie was certain that only she could tell Varis was annoyed. He bowed from the waist. “Your Majesty. On behalf of my royal father, we extend our greetings to you and your court.”
    King Ais blinked only once before beginning his formal response—which would certainly be five times as long as Varis’s, though it wouldn’t say anything more. Callie didn’t bother paying attention. She wondered where Darri was.
    People were watching her, she knew. Waiting to see how she would react. Wondering if she had truly been civilized— tamed , a voice in her mind whispered—or if she would revert to type once she was back in touch with her own kind. Her skin felt stretched tight over her face, and she had to dig her fingernails into her palms to keep herself still.
    â€œThank you,” Varis said, jerking her attention back to the throne.