Chapter 7

I t didn’t take long for Dae to figure out why the mask, with its strings of blue beads dangling just above her chin, had been offered at a discount. By the third time she nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one of the magicked grape offerings, she was ready to give up on the masquerade and retreat to her room. She had a mountain of reading still to do, not to mention how Dae didn’t know anyone at Sylveren well to begin with, let alone once everyone donned masks. The party food was good, though, and she hadn’t been up in the dome atop the main building on campus yet. The Grove had provided a variety of small bites for the masquerade made with produce from its many gardens. Some were lightly magical and others mundane, but all were tasty. A few more minutes pretending to be social wouldn’t hurt.

Brushing the string of beads hanging from the lower edge of her mask to the side, Dae ate another of the ruby-skinned grapes. The card next to the plate had said they had a calming effect. She wasn’t so sure. A honey-like taste, yes, but she didn’t feel any lighter. Somewhat regretful of her decision to dress for the masquerade theme, maybe. The beads on her mask were supposed to impart a sparkly fringe effect, and perhaps they did, but the image was undone by her needing to spit them out. Pretty but impractical, which reflected how she felt wearing it.

Aside from her choice of mask, Dae was glad she’d dressed to the theme, for everyone else was similarly attired. The indigo silk of her mask matched the dress she wore, though the full skirt was a touch too long for her height. She’d lacked the time and funds—or care—to have it hemmed. A problem for later, the mythical future when she’d have both time and energy for such leisure. Gods all—no, she was a water mage, damn it, she could invoke the god of water now. Jin, the Everflow, She of the Golden Waters, knew it didn’t feel like Dae would have time or energy to spare anytime soon. Not when it was taking her hours to get through her readings. The load would only get heavier now that she’d signed herself up for the seminar. And assisting Ezzyn. Although, that last requirement would help with the lack of funds issue, in theory.

Dae stopped by a window that faced toward Sylvan in the distance. Her fingers brushed against the glass. She wished Eunny could’ve been here. Dae had chatted a bit with some of her new classmates, said hello to a few of the other residents of Vanas House, but names and faces still required context. Putting everyone in masks for the social made the event a sea of strangers. A bitter irony, she mused, that she’d have been able to glide through a social function back in Central with relative ease, yet here, she was a wallflower. What should’ve been a transferable skill languished instead.

She sighed, turning back to face the crowd of people, her peers, who all seemed to know one another. Except for her. The urge to go back to her room was strong … but she was supposed to be sociable. Starting fresh and all that. The easy flow of chatter called to her, dredging up a desire for camaraderie she hadn’t realized she’d missed.

A few fellow water elementalists were identifiable as they showed off, altering the flow of the punch fountain. It had begun the night with one gentle stream cascading from an elevated pillar of ice, resembling a shrine to Jin. After suffering the attentions of increasingly inebriated students, the ice had taken on a lewd shape, made more crass by the way the punch trailed from certain orifices.

Dae wandered over, keeping to the edge of the group gathered to watch. She stopped next to a short woman with the pearl white hair and light brown skin of a native of Deiju Island, a small island off Dae’s ancestral Hanyeok. She wore a violet mask with delicate botanical embellishments, and a dress of similar design—an outfit that included pockets, something Dae wished her own had, and which she only noticed when the woman snuck a handful of errant grapes from a picked-over tray at the end of the table. She lifted onto her tiptoes, which didn’t do much for her lack of height, trying to see around a tall man in silver-edged black standing in front of the table’s refreshments.

Dae sidled closer and gave the woman’s arm a light tap. “Would you like some more?” she murmured, holding out what remained of her cluster.

The Deiju woman breathed a quiet, “Oooh!” of delight as she accepted Dae’s offering. Then she blushed a deep red. “Thanks.”

Dae bit back a laugh. “You’re welcome. If you want, I can make a distraction so you can grab something else.”

The other woman hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. “I really shouldn’t,” she mumbled, eyes glued to one of the name cards set on the table. The man with the silver and black mask blocked the way as he lounged against the table’s edge, listening halfheartedly to the conversation around him.

Dae flashed the Deiju woman a quick, mischievous smile before stepping toward the man. “Excuse me,” she said. “Could you hand me that glass?”

His head whipped toward her, long, dark hair falling into his face. He brushed it back, blue eyes stark against the black silk of his mask. “An— Sorry.” He scanned the table, plucking up the closest glass. “This?”

Dae accepted it, moving around him so that he had to turn and take a step away to keep facing her. “Thank you.”

She took a sip of the punch, making a face as the sourness hit her tongue. “Wow. What did they do to this?” She put the tip of her pinky inside the glass and gave the contents a quick swirl, lighting up the inside of the glass as if it was a candleholder as she called for just a touch of her power. She neutralized the remnants of magic-laced alcohol, all fragmented from the students’ variety of spells.

The dark-haired man watched her, then held his hand out in silent question. Dae gave him the glass, which he raised for a quick sniff. He chuckled softly as he handed it back. “A neat trick.”

“Thank you.” Dae took another sip. In the background, the Deiju woman leaned in, snagging a name card with fancy lettering under the guise of grabbing a glass of punch. She gave Dae a quick nod before disappearing into the crowd. “Pity it only does so much for the taste,” Dae said, keeping the man’s attention.

She may not know exactly how tinkering with the punch affected its natural order and makeup, but denaturing alcohol was one of the few more advanced spells she’d retained over the years. Yes, something of a party trick, but it had come to her naturally and stayed despite her lapses in study. Fortunate, given how many social events she’d attended in the capital.

“So, you’re a water mage,” the man said. “What’s your focus?” He spoke softly yet with an odd depth to his tone, the words forming at the back of his throat.

“Environmental restoration, I think.” She laughed. “Not entirely sure how yet. You?”

Before he could respond, a trio of men walked into the room. All wore masks to fit the theme, yet the man in the middle would’ve been known to Dae anywhere.

Brint. Here. Cutting an elegant figure in blue and white, and several people in the crowd closest to him took immediate notice. And recognition.

As Brint melded into the crowd with his typical ease, whispers spread like wildfire.

“Transferred from Grae U. Some kind of exchange program.”

“I heard his fiancée is here and he followed her up.”

“I thought that was called off? My brother consults for the Lower Council. This is politics.”

“Syvrine’s blessed tits, don’t start on that.”

Dae set her glass down and stumbled toward the window, her mind churning as rumors flew around her. Why would Brint come here? It couldn’t be for her. There’d been no word from any of her family so far, let alone him. Since arriving in the Valley, Dae had luxuriated in its isolation; nary a copy of the Grae Port News in sight. She hadn’t looked for it, either, but back in the capital, it was ubiquitous. Here, people were seen with either a journal from their field in hand or maybe the school’s small periodical.

And yet, gossip from Central was already here if people had heard about Dae’s enrollment, or the fiction that Brint was chasing his wayward fiancée.

Talk swirled around her, excitement of this variety not being the usual fare for the Valley, especially outside of the summer season. Opinions and theories, and in all of it, Brint was at the center. The bastard was here with two friends in tow, and Dae wouldn’t put it past him for one of them to have a line back to the Grae Port News.

“…they’re here to take Sylveren knowledge and sell it in Central? Figures.”

“It’s a school. People leave the Valley for work all the time.”

“Wonder if Helm Naval will fund my project. I can work on boats. What’s the Helm girl’s name again?”

Dae closed her eyes. So much for a fresh start if people thought she was here representing Helm interests. Laughable, too, since she’d tried to convince her family that a Sylveren education could benefit their work. She could stand on the table and scream her denial, for all the good it would do. Brint Avenor and his damned clout. He’d been here for all of two minutes and already had the social standing to rebuff anything she said in opposition.

“Not a fan?”

Her eyes blinked open. The man with the silver and black mask was still beside her, a hardness to his gaze as he studied Dae’s face.

“No,” she said. “Can’t say that I am.”

“History there?” His voice tipped up, losing its deep quality.

Dae glanced at him. There was almost something familiar about his voice, but in so few words and with the ambient noise levels, she couldn’t place it. The mask didn’t help, but she was mostly sure that she hadn’t met anyone quite like him yet.

“Business … overlap.”

“Think he chased his bride here?” the man asked, deep voice back in place.

Dae scoffed. “Bride? It never—they never married. I, um, I heard from someone close that she canceled the betrothal. It’s permanent.”

“You sound … certain … of that.”

“I am,” Dae said. “My friend knows what she’s talking about.”

“Still, if he’s here.” The man shrugged. “Maybe it’s love.”

Dae made a disgusted noise, startling a laugh from the man. “Brint Avenor? It’s a stunt, or something.” Dae shrank behind the man as she tracked Brint’s slow but inevitable progress around the room. Close up, mask or no, her flimsy disguise wouldn’t fool him, and he seemed to be looking for someone. Her. “I don’t know why he’d be here,” she said softly.

Brint was a few people away, and she couldn’t escape without making a scene. Even more of one, for Dae suspected such a thing was Brint’s aim. Any second now.

There were a number of things Ezzyn could point to as among the best decisions he’d ever made. Deciding to use a temporary glamour from Sylveren’s eccentric mercantile currently vied for the top position. All it did was change his hair, turning it black and growing it long enough that he’d sit on it if he wasn’t careful, but that paired with a mask meant he moved through the social like a new man. The event itself was a boring affair, and he’d about given up on his fool’s errand of stumbling across Anadae in a crowd of masks when she found him.

He'd nearly bungled the whole thing, forgetting about his voice and the limits of the enchantment. But she didn’t suspect, and now her attention was thrown off by the arrival of that fucking knob, Avenor. Maybe she was lying about her ignorance of his coming. Ezzyn didn’t know her well enough to know for certain. But of her distaste for the man, that didn’t appear to be feigned. Not with the way she tried to hide, the tightness in her eyes, or the way she’d gone stiff.

If Ezzyn had recognized her in an instant, then surely so, too, would her ex. If he saw her face.

Ezzyn stepped closer, fingers closing lightly around her chin and lifting so that she focused on him. “Would you like my assistance? Since you’re not a fan.” He tilted his head in Avenor’s direction, eyes never leaving her.

Dae kissed him. First. He was quick to respond but tucked the specifics of the order away for further use. She’d been the one to initiate, and he wouldn’t forget. In the present, he allowed himself to indulge. To satisfy a want and curiosity he’d held for years. He cupped her face between his hands, pushing the damned strings of beads dangling from her mask out of the way so he could taste her lips. Coaxed her mouth open so he could lick in. She tasted of sweetness, honey from the grovetenders’ specialty grapes, and a hint of magic lingering from adjusting her drink.

Ezzyn groaned into her mouth, tongue delving in again and again like a man starved. Desperate. If he’d convinced himself in his bitterness that Anadae Helm choosing a politician’s brat was no big loss, her kissing him back now set fire to every denial. He held on long after Avenor had strolled past, let his thumb stroke her cheek, did everything he could to imprint the moment into memory. It would be their last, one to which she’d agreed only because she thought him a stranger. A kiss he’d only allowed himself by banishing the realities and complexities of their “old familiarities.” He wasn’t sure if he believed that she’d truly left her old life behind, that she could, or that she even wanted to in her heart.

Yet, as he eased back, sucking lightly on her bottom lip before letting go, the small moan she made in response? In that moment, Ezzyn didn’t care about any of his previous doubts.

Eternal Flame snuff … motherfuck. He was a fool for this woman. It could only end badly.

“Should we go somewhere more private?” he heard himself say. “Before he makes the rounds again.”

She stared up at him, lips parted. Dazed, but in a much more pleasant way than the blanched look she’d had when Avenor had walked in.

“Yes,” she breathed, voice barely more than a whisper. Her fingers came up to brush the edge of his mask. It didn’t budge, the adhesion charm firmly in place. “Only, could we…”

Guilt assailed him. He’d have to take it off. She’d hate him. This was already a step too far. If she asked, he’d have to decline. Watch her walk away from him once again.

“I have a request,” Anadae said. “These stay on. No names. Nothing we—”

“Yes,” he said. “Just tonight.”

She smiled. “Just tonight.”

Sometimes, the gods laughed, and one couldn’t guess at their intentions. Ezzyn wouldn’t be one to question. He followed Anadae in companionable silence, her hand gripping his as she led him down the stairs and out the door.

Ezzyn paused next to the university’s student-run mercantile.

“I’ll just be a moment,” he murmured before hurrying inside. The necessary items were easy to find. First, a small, simple bottle of lubricant. There were several varieties on offer, but he went with one he knew, no fancy scents or colors but reliable. The next shelf took extra thought. He reached past the freely available, medicinal-in-taste contraceptive potions, the ones made by Adept One menders. Instead, he grabbed one of the elegant, thin vials from an upper shelf. Forced his hand to settle on the smallest size. Single use. He picked one in the flavor of honey.

He rushed back outside, tossing more coins than necessary onto the counter as he went.

Anadae observed him, a bemused smile on her face. Her eyebrows went up when she saw the vial and his easy shrug as he tucked it into his pocket.

“Aren’t you a prince,” she said.

Ezzyn stiffened, a weak laugh caught in his throat.

Anadae slipped her fingers around his arm. “It was a joke. I appreciate the thought.”

She pulled lightly on his arm to get him moving. They left the main building behind as she led him to her room in Vanas House.

One night to satisfy the infatuation of their youth. One night, and he’d be gone before she woke. Just tonight to cure himself of this old familiarity, this obsession, and he wouldn’t be plagued by the mystery of it ever again.