“Ready?” Lysara asked without looking at me.
“Hard to be ready when you don’t know what to be ready for,” I muttered.
Before she could respond, a blur zipped past my shoulder, followed by the sound of clinking glass and a sharp, “Out of myway, clunkers!”
Seraphine hovered a few feet in front of us, balancing a tray of flutes on her wings.
“You are going to spill that,” Lysara warned.
“I’ve done this three times tonight and only dropped one tray,” Seraphine said, then paused. “Okay, maybe two. But no one important saw it.”
She fluttered in front of me, wings twitching. “Aurelia. You look...terrifying. In a good way.” Her tiny voice dropped lower. “Maybe don’t stand too close to any high-ranking nobles. The last time someone walked in wearing that dress, a kingdom fell.”
“Thanks for that,” I said dryly.
Seraphine winked. “You’ll do fine. But if you don’t, spill a drink on someone important and fly off. Works every time.”
Then she was gone, likely off to harass the nearest dignitary.
Lysara and I ascended the final flight of stairs. At the top was the ballroom—its doors flung wide, its light spilling out.
I paused at the threshold.
The ballroom was enormous. Silver-gilded columns lined the walls, draped in deep plum banners marked with Nyxarra’s crest. Crystalline chandeliers hovered midair, glittering like frozen stars.
The music swelled as we stepped inside. Musicians at the far end played a haunting, elegant tune.
Servers moved like ghosts between circles of nobles in satin and velvet, their laughter sharp as broken glass.
And then the room saw me. Conversation died like a snuffed flame. All eyes turned to me. Some widened in shock. Others narrowed in suspicion.
I stood at the top of the staircase, Lysara just behind me, Gabriel having stepped silently from the shadows to my right.
When did he get here?
I glanced at him. He winked.
My fingers clenched around the edges of my gown. I could feel the pendant in my hair—Eryndis’s mark—pressed against my scalp.
“You are not prey. You are a storm dressed in stars.”A voice inside my head whispered. It felt like remembering something I had never learned.
I forced myself to breathe.
One step forward.
Then another.
I descended slowly, back straight, chin lifted despite the tremor in my spine.
Lysara trailed with elegance behind me, and Gabriel walked at my side. His presence steadied something in me.
Survive the night. Tomorrow, Aeryn.
I reached the bottom stair, and my eyes found him.
Malachi.
He stood across the ballroom, flanked by nobles, dressed in tailored black layered with silver thread. His braids were freshly coiled, his posture composed.