She pulls me into a hug. “Oh, I’m so glad. Now, take the day off—rest. I will see you at the festival.”
I nod absently, force a smile, and slip out of the room. Estela leaves first, called away by the cry of one of her sons. Once she’s gone, I throw the nightgown into the scrap bin, then sit down and resume my work.
“Everything all right?” Lady Fira asks a moment later.
I turn to her and smile. “Yes, sorry. It was something about the Mating Ceremony.”
She nods. “Of course. Gods, he’s handsome. Don’t you think?”
“Lord Vann?” I ask.
A few others grin, giving their own versions of “yes.”
I bite my lip. Vann is… untouchable. Handsome? Perhaps. But very much not mine.
“I don’t know, I’ve never noticed?” I say. Another lie.Hostia, what is wrong with me lately?
Everyone around me begins to chatter and gossip once again. I need to go to Ulla’s in a little while, but I should finish this project first. I don’t want to rest. Apparently, I’d rested enough in a day that is entirely lost to me.
There is work to be done.
Chapter 9
VANN
After Queen Estela banishes me from the weaving cavern, I go to find Teo. We were supposed to meet two hours ago. He’ll be upset at my tardiness, but I had more important things to tend to first.
I walk through the heated forges ringing with the sound of hammers. Past the forges is the third tunnel that leads down to the lower level of Enduvida.
The city is similar to a hive in many senses. The main section of the cave system where we lived, aged, forged, and partied was the largest cavern, but deeper, other useful pockets of space could be used for anything.
A crowd is gathered outside of the entrance of the tunnel.
I let out a huff of a laugh. Where there is chaos, Teo must be nearby. He’s got a talent for organizing it.
This section leads down to a lower cavern, an open expanse where the Mating Journey will take place tomorrow. The passage is narrow, the steady flow of people carrying crates, food, water, and crystals making it feel even tighter as I push forward.
When I emerge, the cavern widens into a vast, open space, bustling with movement. Nearly a thousand people worked to clear this area, and now, hundreds of tents stand in neat rows, theirvibrant colors striking against the deep gray basalt walls. The jewel-toned fabrics ripple under the shifting glow of overhead spell-lights, casting shimmering reflections across the cavern floor. The ceiling arches high above, making it the perfect space for the festival.
My eyes skim over the textiles. Has Arlet touched these, too?
I can’t help but think of the image on the loom in her home. Beautiful, bright, and then barren—streaked with threads representing blood.
Enough,I insist.
I walk past workers carrying supplies—food, cushions, banners—grimacing at the excessive use of precious materials. Then, I spot the king.
Teo stands in the center of a group of ocean-risen, overseeing the preparations.
I approach, extending my hand.
Teo breaks away from his conversation and clasps my palm, pulling me into a firm embrace before clapping a hand across my back. Then, he gestures toward one of the ocean-risen women beside him.
"Brother, this is Lirenne."
She is striking—tall, elegant, half her face marked by a white birthmark that stands out against the deep cerulean of her skin.
She smiles at me, and I catch a hint of flirtation. I nod, but don’t return the gesture.