45. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

It is a strange thing. Only Vyran has spoken to the darkness. Only she has heard it speak. The rest of us do not understand it, and the thought of going back to it is strange. It is not returning home for me like it will be for her. But Vesper waits for me there, and where she goes, I will follow forever.

~Sidon the Strong, A History of Magic and Dragons

"What am I supposed to do again?" I ask. I don't think I've ever been this nervous before. Never. Not when I was a child and Vesta expected me to do things on my own. My ten-year-old self hunting a deer with a spear for the first time was fearless. Not when we first got to Draenyth, the home of literally every scary story ever told to human children. No, when I stepped foot into Draenyth, me, Lee, and Darian saved a group of humans from slavery and being eaten.

Now, though… Now, I'm terrified. Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm here to dance and talk and pretend to be the happiest wife-to-be there ever was. I'm here to play the only role that's allowed me to walk around Draenyth without being hunted for food.

And that is terrifying.

"You just smile and be nice and pretend like you're an idiot. Everyone's going to expect that, so just… don't get into any fights, okay?"

I grin at Cole, but I think it looks more like a wolf's attempt at a grin. All teeth and no smile. Then again, that's who I am, isn't it? Vesta's belt knife is strapped to my thigh. I snuck a footman's spear into the dining hall under the table we're supposed to be seated at.

Maybe I like to have sharp teeth. After a lifetime of hunting side-by-side with predators, would anyone expect me to show up without my teeth and claws?

I am wearing a dress, though. Not armor or even a good thick pair of leather pants. No, I'm wearing a dress fit for a princess, and I don't know if I love it or hate it. I can hear the dress sizzle as I walk. There's a heat to it you'd never find in any normal fabric. If I were to stand in a completely dark room, you'd see the fabric burning. Shimmering reds and oranges move just like any good fire would, and that warmth gives me more comfort than I'd have expected. It feels like Cole's hands are on me all the time.

The actual dress is like that first dress, except that this time, it is absolutely, unequivocally a House of Flame dress. There's no silver or steel anywhere on it. No touch of earth or shadows.

And it's not exactly a poofy dress, either. The fabric is thin and lightweight and clings to my chest and stomach because of the cut of the dress rather than with a corset, the only request I had. The bright orange fabric flows down to the ground smoothly, but roses as large as my hand decorate the hem. Where the rest of the dress looks like it's on fire, the roses are made of it.

They're flames that don't burn anything. I don't know how it all works other than that it has something to do with these spellstones, which no one has bothered to explain to me at all.

I haven't been too inquisitive, though. There have been a few other things on my mind.

One of those being how wrong this dress feels on me. After knowing what I could do with shadows, I know that the midnight dress is what I should be wearing. Pure midnight darkness.

But I obviously couldn't wear that to this ball.

Cole, on the other hand, doesn't look like he's showing up at a magical ball for the ages. He would look almost at home in Blackgrove at one of the handful of minor affairs that Uncle Trevor and Aunt Prudence held over the years.

How does he get away with a black set of tails with barely noticeable red thread woven throughout it? A bright red cravat runs around his neck, the fabric notable because of the bright crimson hue, but otherwise, it wouldn't be all that surprising on Uncle Trevor.

Until I put my arms in his, and we step into the ballroom, and he catches fire. Every inch of his skin looks like the roses on my dress. A fire with no heat, and when I run my hand through it, it's like I can feel him . Cole's flames feel different from the normal fire of a stove or candle. They're tender, and while I know they can burn, they don't want to .

"Do all the men in the House of Flames dress like that?" I ask.

Cole just grins and looks over at several other men who are obviously wearing House of Flames colors. They're all wearing bright red vests that are on fire, just like my dress. Not even the smallest hint of flames on their bodies, though. He doesn't respond at all.

It seems like not every male is allowed to wear their flames like Cole does, but I'm not sure if it's because of his rank or his skill.

My eyes move through the crowd, and I'm amazed at all the gleaming steel. It's a stark division between the House of Steel and House of Flames. Where Cole's House has almost no metal anywhere, the House of Steel is covered in it.

Dresses made of chain mail, just as flowing and beautiful as my own. Just silver instead of red, and shining instead of burning. The males are all wearing some sort of armor rather than tails. Not full suits, but articulating steel breastplates. Clothes that have been interwoven with steel and obviously could withstand a blow from a sword. Or a magical attack.

If I didn't know better, I'd think that tonight was when the war would begin. It certainly looks like we're walking into a trap with this many people covered in steel. But Cole would recognize that, and he's not worried.

"Prince Cole," a voice says from behind us. Deep and reverberating, it unnerves me. Cole immediately tenses and whirls around. The flames around him sputter, and I can tell that he's having to force the court smile onto his face. "King Gethin," Cole growls, barely hiding the sneer behind the smile.

King Gethin, the leader of the House of Steel. Rhion's father. The one person who King Casimir is afraid of. He's exactly what I'd expected. A man that's as sharp as any blade. Where Rhion is a mountain of a man, Gethin is made of steel. Every inch of his face is cold, rigid, and unyielding.

He has sharp brows with thin black eyebrows to match the short cropped hair on the top of his head. Wearing a silver military coat with brass buttons, he looks like he could walk out of this room and command legions.

If Casimir is fire, Gethin is ice.

"I see that you've failed your father again. Just as you did thirty years ago. You couldn't kill Queen Brenna, and now you can't even marry a full-blooded Immortal. Did your dear father leave more scars on you for that disgrace?"

Cole's smile widens. "Absolutely. I'm a pitiful shadow of what I once was. Now would be the perfect time for you to duel me. No time like the present, and if you act now, I'll even agree to duel you and Rhion at the same time."

Gethin pauses for a moment, and then smiles widely, just as much a trained smile as Cole's. "Why would I want to ruin the Midsummer festivities with a duel? I couldn't bear to see King Casimir in mourning on actual Midsummer. Especially this one."

I can't help but stand completely stock still. There's nothing else I can do because any word I say is probably going to be an insult or an accidental faux pas, and in a room like this, that could have serious repercussions.

Then I realize just how strained the tensions are when Cole's smile fades and becomes as feral as any wolf's grin could be. Full of teeth and just as deadly.

King Gethin doesn't seem bothered by him at all, though. "Now, go somewhere else. There are people here that I'd actually enjoy talking to."

Cole gives him the shortest bow possible and pulls me away. "I hate him more than any person in the world," he growls in my ear.

I don't know how to react to that. I'd thought that Cole had hated his father, but even walking into a room where he expected to be tortured, he hadn't radiated the same animosity. There's no doubt Cole would have jumped at the chance to duel him, but to duel Gethin and Rhion? That sounds like a decision that would get Cole killed.

Then again, if it were that obviously in Gethin's favor, he would have accepted the challenge right then. There's no doubt that they both want each other dead.

Cole simmers down some as we walk. He points out noble after noble. Most are from the Great Houses, but some are from the Lesser Houses. They're still High Fae, but many of them are craftspeople and others who offer various services like the tailors that Cole brought me to. Others are part of important guilds like the Scientific Guild that Darian's a part of.

"You look gorgeous," a feminine voice says from behind us. I whirl around, knowing the voice instantly.

I'm shocked at Lee. I'd thought that wearing a dress that was actually burning seemed like the most outlandish and incredible kind of dress possible. But hers outdoes mine by miles. Just like the night we went to the Luminas Spectacle, I saw what light magic could do, but this dress is more than just made from light. It plays with my mind.

Unlike the night at the Luminas Spectacle, this doesn't shine so brightly as to light up the room. It's like the light's been dimmed, and any time I look at it from a different angle, it's a different color. Almost like it's not just green or red or gold. It's all of them at once.

And it's an actual dress made of real fabric, just like mine.

Her hair has been braided into a crown again, but this time, thin strands of the same fabric that makes up her dress have been woven into that braid so that it glows and makes her stand out in the crowd even when her House isn't one of the Great Houses.

She's grinning from ear to ear, and I'm so glad she's here. Tonight's the last night that we'll see each other for a long time.

"Lee, I didn't know you were coming to this thing," I say and attempt to pull her in for a hug, but Cole's arm tightens like a vise, keeping me from succeeding.

Lee shakes her head, and I can feel Cole's anxiety growing. Okay, so no hugging during fancy balls. "Is Darian here?" Cole asks.

Lee nods. "You know him. He always spends his nights in ballrooms stuffing his face. What is it he always says about them?"

Cole chuckles. "I'm here. I hate dancing and I hate people. Why wouldn't I spend the night trying to eat my weight in delicacies?"

His voice sounds exactly like Darian. That slightly confused, higher pitched voice that I've become so familiar with over the weeks that we walked from Aerwyn to Draenyth. It instantly perks me up. Even in a room like this, full of people that terrify me, there are reasons to smile, and it's good to remember that.

"So now what?" I ask. "We've walked around. I was terrified watching you and King Gethin nearly duel each other. I know we can't just laugh and spend time with Darian and Lee. So… what do we have to do?"

Cole grins at me. "I could introduce you to a few more people. Darian and Lee's mother is here. Well, their father is too, but we don't talk about him. Or we could dance."

I can see Cole's smile and Lee's grin. Their words make me think I should join in, laughing and smiling right alongside them. But I can't.

Someone I thought I'd never see again is standing in front of me. "Vesta," I whisper.

"It's been a very long time, Maeve," she says before bowing to me. She looks nothing like she did when she was my tutor, but there's no way that I could mistake her. The slightly too large eyes and way her body seems to glide rather than walk are burned into my mind.

The look on her face, even though she's now almost entirely translucent, is the same as when I'd done something that she was proud of. When I'd read my first passage in that enormous book of history. The time I'd killed my first deer.

It was always the same. Her lips didn't move. She didn't smile. I don't think she knew how, to be perfectly honest. Her eyes had smiled, though. There was a sparkle to them that was impossible to miss. It was almost how Cole's eyes had burned last night.

"You two know each other?" Cole whispers.

I nod, but Vesta doesn't let me speak. "During the Shattering, I left the House of Shadows in grief for several years, and in an effort to pull myself out of that grief, I spent time with humans in the village that Maeve is from. I helped her."

Cole nods. "The tutor."

The warning isn't spoken, but everyone is completely aware of how important it is to choose our words carefully. There are too many Immortals in this ballroom for us to be secretive about anything, especially right here amid everyone.

"That was before I knew I was a Wyrdling. Vesta helped me understand things my father wouldn't have understood."

Vesta nods, just as solemnly as ever. "Maeve was an excellent pupil for a Wyrdling. She mastered many things faster than I'd expected." She pauses for a moment, as if she were just now realizing that I was standing with Cole. "I apologize, Prince Cole," she says as she goes into a deep bow. "Let me leave you and your betrothed to enjoy the ball. I would like to speak at another time, though. Sooner rather than later, Prince."

"Certainly, Vesta. Tomorrow before sunrise?"

She doesn't respond, simply bowing again, and when she leaves, she passes by me, her barely visible hand brushing against my arm, and sending memories of my childhood through me. Powerful memories. The times I sat beside her on an old bench. She read to me out of the only book she possessed.

I had remembered so much about my childhood, and somehow, I'd completely forgotten that book and the hours and hours that she'd read to me. "I've missed our story time, Maeve. Try to remember the stories I told you about the world before the High Fae ruled. When the dragons reigned."

I did remember them, but there were so many. What's she trying to tell me? Before I have a chance to say anything, she disappears. It's like the very air around us has come alive for a moment, and then she's gone.

"Sylphs are strange creatures," Lee says.

"As salamanders like Nevan are the caretakers of the House of Flame, sylphs are the caretakers of the House of Shadow." Darian's voice. One of awe. He's standing next to Lee, and I guess he showed up while I was enraptured with Vesta.

"But wasn't the House of Shadows shattered?" I ask.

Darian nods. "The High Fae of the House of Shadows were shattered, but the actual House and its many Lesser Fae were not. They are as intrinsic to Draenyth and Nyth as the building in which the House of Shadows High Fae ruled from, and trying to shatter them would be a feat that would take dragons. Not just another House."

"And no one treats the sylphs badly because the High Fae they worked for are considered enemies?"

Cole steps in. "This is not the time to talk about this, but no one holds the sylphs accountable for the House of Shadow's actions." The look on his face is cold and more than a little terrifying. For a moment, I'd forgotten that we're in a viper's nest, and one wrong move will have us all dead.

"Now would be a good time to do a bit of dancing," he says with a soft smile on his lips. Lee and Darian nod and take the hint. It's not time for a friendly reunion. It's time to play the game we've been preparing for.

When Cole offers me his outstretched hand, I take it with a smile, and he pulls me toward the dance floor. And, surprisingly, the sound of the small orchestra isn't terrifying. Unlike so many of my experiences in Draenyth over the past couple of weeks, this is something I've practiced. I may not be the best dancer on the floor, but I know what I'm doing, and that's a glorious feeling.

People see Cole leading me, and they step out of the way. Unlike anywhere else in the world, in this room, everyone knows the man that's spent so much time with me. Now that I see how people look at him here, I realize they see him the same way that I've seen Casimir and Gethin.

Incredibly powerful and more than willing to hurt the people around him. They all give Cole a wide berth, which makes it much easier to dance with him. He grins, and then he hooks his right hand under my arm and catches my right hand in his left. Just like we'd practiced.

I look around me, noticing the people staring at us, and I swallow hard. Cole laughs, though. It's jarring in this space. After all the tension and fear that's surrounded this moment, my entire body is on pins and needles, but that laughter drains all that tension away. I've only seen him look like this a handful of times.

"Don't worry," he says with a grin. "This is purposeful." I don't know exactly what he means by that until the world explodes in flames. He covers us in a dome of flickering orange and red that is completely controlled and impossible to see through. The roar of the flames is thunderous in my ear, and yet none of the heat flows by me.

It's just like the flames on his skin. Decoration. "You're an ass, Cole. I'd thought you'd lost control for a second."

"Me? Lose control? No, that would take something very serious, and tonight's still feeling like fun and games."

"What about with you and Gethin?"

He huffs and spins me. Somehow, the music breaks through the sound of the flames just as easily as my hand would, and while I don't think Cole can see through the flames, I doubt many people will miss us. They'll get out of our way if they're smart.

The thoughts are barely blips in my mind as I get lost in the dance. My body moving in time with Cole's. The music swirls around us just as much as the flames do, and my body is as much an instrument of that music as any in the orchestra. It feels wonderful to let go and become a part of the dance. To not have to think about the world beyond the flames that surround us. Cole's eyes are blazing orange as he stares at me, fire inside and around him.

He pulls me closer to him, and that's when I realize I don't even have to count. We're just dancing. All alone in the world together. Just like last night, I stop trying to talk. And we dance. Song after song, we let the music carry us through the motions that we've practiced for so many hours.

Cole releases the flames from around us after I've stopped being so nervous. That's when I realize that an entire quarter of the dance floor has been left to us. All but one male have evacuated.

Rhion.