“It all feels the same to me,” Kerrigan finally said.
“Like I said… the only one.”
“I can be multidimensional.”
Darby laughed. “You can. But why do you like to fight in that dreadful place?”
Kerrigan sighed. She had come back beaten up one too many times for Darby not to know that she was fighting in the Dragon Ring. Everyone else would be appalled, but Kerrigan didn’t want to stop. This was just who she was. She liked dressing up in pretty dresses as much as the fight.
“The world below, in the Wastes, it makes more sense to me,” she whispered. “It’s more… honest.”
“More honest?”
Kerrigan shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We should go. We’re late.”
Darby frowned like she wanted to say more but decided to let it pass. “All right. Put on some shoes.”
Kerrigan grabbed the soft gold flats that she preferred and followed Darby from their rooms. They almost made it to the entrance when Kerrigan realized what Darby and Hadrian had failed to tell her.
“What is he doing here?” she hissed at Darby.
Lyam stood next to Hadrian in the glow of the firelight. He fidgeted slightly. An old habit that he’d never been able to break.
“Shh,” Darby said. “Be polite. He’s still our friend.”
Kerrigan groaned. This was not the night she had signed up for.
Hadrian was in the newest fashion in crisp black breeches and a tight black jerkin. His cravat was a soft blue to complement his bright blue hair. Lyam, on the other hand, looked like he’d thrown himself together that moment. As if he hadn’t been sure whether or not he’d come with them. His jacket was askew, and he wasn’t even wearing a cravat. A sliver of his neck and chest was exposed from the unbuttoned top of his shirt.
“About time,” Hadrian said. “We were going to leave without you.”
“No, we weren’t,” Lyam said with a laugh. His eyes found Kerrigan’s, and he flushed. “You look lovely tonight.” He darted to Darby. “Both of you.”
“Why, thank you, Lyam,” Darby said, tactfully taking his arm. Thank you, Darbs. “Shall we be off?”
Hadrian offered Kerrigan his arm.
She gratefully placed her hand on his sleeve. “Yes, let’s.”
8
The Celebration
Lady Sonali of tribe Bryonica, Second of the House of Stoirm, had a magnificent mansion on the eastern banks of the valley. Her home was large enough that she had land in the city. It was a prominent feature on the Row, the wealthiest area of town that housed so much of the Fae aristocracy.
But beyond the enormous home was a sprawling estate with gardens and a beautiful courtyard. It was a splendor for the rich. While only a few streets over, children lived in poverty. Children like Hadrian had been.
He wrinkled his nose slightly as their carriage drew up to the front of the mansion. “Such extravagance.”
“This is our world now,” Darby said.
No one contradicted her. Though surely, everyone felt the same discomfort. But this was precisely what they all had been trained for in the House of Dragons. Their education was not merely in history and mathematics and magic. They had all learned the ways of the aristocracy, how to move about them without garnering notice, how to blend in. In six days, many of them would join the upper echelon of society. And parties just like this one proved the use of all that knowledge.
A footman helped them out of the carriage, and Darby offered a stiff gold invitation to the man at the door.
“Ah, Miss Darby,” he said with a short bow. “Welcome to the House of Stoirm.”
Darby beamed in excitement as they were let into the mansion on one invitation. Lyam and Hadrian tried to hide their wide-eyed stares up at the enormous crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The hall stretched on endlessly, filled to the brim with guests in elegant attire. Waiters had silver trays full of bubbly drinks in long-stemmed flutes. They were each offered one at the entrance. Kerrigan took hers greedily. It was going to be way better than the cheap booze she drank in the Wastes with Clover.
“Kerrigan, are you sure you should be drinking that?” Hadrian asked.
She held up her hand. “No lectures tonight, please. Have a few drinks, Hay. Loosen up.” She winked and then downed her own glass of bubbly.
The group stuck together as Darby led them through the house. She had been here before. She’d been invited over for tea a few times. And her discernment of the surroundings was clear.
Bryonica was the wealthiest of the twelve tribes with nearly the entire Viland territory to the eastern coast. The mansions within the capital were just the tip of the iceberg. There were four royal houses within Bryonica—Stoirm, Drame, Cruse, and Medallion. Stoirm—which Helly and Sonali were a part of—was the current ruling family. Her father’s house, Cruse, used to be the ruling line, but nearly everyone had been killed a couple hundred years ago and had fallen out of favor. Drame and Medallion were constantly intermarrying with Stoirm in the hopes of avoiding another war to claim the throne again. It was a big headache as far as Kerrigan was concerned.
A big headache that she had once been a part of. She had vague memories of castles in the Viland hills. Of dinners that lasted for hours as course after course was placed before her. Of banquets and balls set for kings. Even at five, she had been expected to act like any other noble.. She didn’t dislike the etiquette classes because she wasn’t any good at them. She hated them because they reminded her of the past.
Kerrigan blinked away the images she had plastered on top of Sonali’s home. She didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to drink until she couldn’t think about that anymore.
And then they were before Lady Sonali. She was stunning and the perfect example of a Bryonican noblewoman, dressed in the navy blues of her people. Her face unlined. Her smile coming easily.
“Darby,” she said, holding a hand out. “You made it.”
Darby executed a perfect curtsy. “My lady.”
Sonali’s expression didn’t change as her gaze slid over Hadrian, Lyam, and then Kerrigan. Kerrigan, who was accustomed to avoiding the eye of Bryonican nobility, lest they see what was hidden underneath—that she had once been one of them.
“I am so pleased you could join us. Come and sit with my ladies.”
Darby shot one desperate look at her friends. Kerrigan nodded, telling her to go. They could fend for themselves.
Kerrigan swept Lady Sonali an exquisite curtsy and then all but hustled the boys out of the hall.
“Shouldn’t we stay with her?” Hadrian asked anxiously.
“No. She will be fine with the lady of the house. And we should find the harder liquor.”
“I like where your mind is at, Ker,” Lyam said.
Hadrian groaned. “You two are going to get into trouble, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” they said at the same time.
She met Lyam’s eyes, and they both laughed. She’d forgotten how easy it was to be around him. How it had been… before he confessed his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.
She and Lyam pulled Hadrian into a room with an impressive wine cellar. Against one wall was a long bar with every manner of drink available for the evening. Even though these fancy parties were just supposed to serve wine, most parties in the city also had some variety of faerie punch available. Potent alcohol laced with magic. They addled senses, and depending on the spell, they could make you forget the evening, lower inhibitions, cause arousal, and any number of things. Kerrigan had tried them all in small quantities. She was a firm believer in knowing what magic could do to a person and how to escape it. She also just liked the feeling of getting out of her head.