14. There’s What You Want and What You Get
DESDEMONA
When Sulva and Ayan collided, Elysia was born. There’s a bit of a disconnect in the knowledge of Who created our universe. The lesser orphia believe it to be Zola’s hand that birthed our worlds. This is untrue. Disbelievers can look to Soma, where the Lucents—Sulva’s descendants—live and rule. Why would Her creatures be in charge, if she was not the co-creator?
— THE TRUE HISTORY OF ELYSIA BY NARCASIA ARSEN
Aralia and I are putting on our fancy dresses when she asks, “Do you have an eye for anyone?”
“Nope,” I say, but I still feel the ghost of Lucian’s hands lingering on my waist. The thought alone brings heat to my cheeks, and it’s entirely irrational.
He’s a prince. The epitome of what is wrong with this world and every other. He’s only ever going to perpetuate the cycle that leads to people like me having twenty scars on our backs.
He’s friends with a Nepenthe—knowing what they are and what they do.
He is the problem.
“Darn. You look too good not to.” She rifles through a dresser drawer. “Would be the perfect time. All eyes are gonna be on you tonight.”
That’s exactly what I don’t want. But I signed up for it when I chose this dress.
A minute later, she holds up the most beautiful dagger I’ve ever seen. Even prettier than the letter opener I stole from the headmistress. She presents it to me, lying on both her hands. “For you, malady.” The handle is made entirely of memor stone, a glistening orange. I pick it up like it’s a child.
“It’s beautiful,” I say as I stare in awe.
She talks fast when she says, “Yeah, I’ve had it for years, never used it. The real gold stuff is so expensive the only people who could afford it are probably the gods, but I figured the orange would go well enough.” She walks back to the drawer. “I have a strap for it somewhere in here.”
“It’s beautiful, but why are you giving it to me?”
She looks at me over her shoulder with a slight smile. “Every leg slit needs a dagger,” she says like she’s mocking a posh Folk, but the only ones I’ve met are our classmates. Her voice gets deep and heady when she says, “It’s only the very basics of accessorizing.” Then it goes back to her usual pitch a few moments later when she says “Found it!” and holds up a sheath.
Equipped with Aralia’s gorgeous dagger, I walk into the ballroom, which might just be the shiniest room I’ve ever stepped into. The ceiling and floors are made of white and silver marble. Windows with dark blue curtains line the wall to my right and there are at least twenty chandeliers gleaming on the hundred some students—who are all in blue and silver.
It doesn’t take long for all eyes in the room to be on me.
I’m used to this by now, being a Fire Folk and all. But this time, their looks aren’t all fearful, or even pitiful for that matter. There’s something else gleaming in this sea of eyes.
Then I notice it’s more than just students in this room. There are adults too. Regal-looking adults sitting at tables along the marble walls and under the windows.
And if I know anything about this school, I know they’re also ruling adults.
“You didn’t tell me government would be here,” I whisper to Aralia.
She scrunches her eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”
Right. I didn’t tell her I didn’t know what the Gerner was. It kind of feels like I did.
“We’re the only academy in the universe for all kinds of orphia,” Aralia whispers. “Everyone has a say in how it’s run.” She looks at someone, but I can’t pinpoint who. Maybe her parents. “Some more than others.”
I think of Arson’s Alley and Portricia. Of Aralia giving her the extra pence. “If every government is involved, why are we stealing from the poor? Don’t the worlds have enough money to fund the school?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Aralia’s tone is dripping with sarcasm. “Our universe is fucked up.” She grabs my hand and pulls me. “Come. Let’s get drinks before any of those Royal pain-in-the-asses make us dance.”
“Vesi?” I ask, catching the attention of an older woman with bright blue eyes and dark hair.
“Duh,” Aralia says, and I look away from the woman.
We walk through the room of chattering students and adults alike. I’ve never had so many eyes on me. Suddenly I’m extra grateful for the dagger strapped to my thigh and maybe even the girl who gave me it. I want to look like a worthy opponent, because amongst these glances there must be someone sizing me up, ready to fight.
There always is.
I know we’re walking up to Lucian before Aralia taps his shoulder and he turns around. He’s with Yuki and the Nepenthe with the blue beanie, dark skin, and eyes that wander through the room. I look in his direction, fixate on the second-to-top button of his suit shirt, but I don’t dare meet his gray eyes.
“Fill my flask?” Aralia says, and if I didn’t know to look I would never see the sly passing of her flask to Lucian. It’s filled and back in her hands before anyone even bats an eye. This must be a routine.
“Can’t take your eyes off my body, Marquees?” Lucian asks. He knows why I’m avoiding his gaze.
All I can see now is the boy with the crooked nose and messed up suit and hair, on account of me. The boy whose fingers brushed my cheeks and whose lips occupied my mind these past nights more than I’d like to admit.
The boy I can never have, let alone want.
“It’s a nice body, what can I say?” I arm my voice with boredom, even though my heart is pumping blood at an obnoxiously fast rate.
Then Aralia picks up my hand, pulling me away and saying, “Thank youuu.” She twirls my hand over our heads while she spins. It’ll be good to look like I have friends.
“Marquees?” Lucian calls, and Aralia stops instantly. I give her a look, then I give Lucian one worse. I wonder if he’s thinking about that night. “Save me a dance.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
Lucian smiles, and even against the silver of his suit his teeth are perfect. A reminder of who he really is, and what that night really was.
I knew from the beginning it’d be best to keep my distance. But I pulled him in, and now if I don’t push him out I’m going to deal with the consequences.
Like being kicked out of the school and having no chance of finding my mom.
Or getting killed.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Then he winks, and I’m turning around before I have the chance to think twice.
“What was that about?” Aralia says, but she’s too giddy.
“Nothing.” I steal a glance over my shoulder, but Lucian isn’t looking anymore. I don’t even know why I’m looking back. It’s ridiculous. I’ll never belong here or with him, and I don’t want to. Suddenly, I am sure that the older Lucent with the dark hair who won’t take her eyes off me knows it too.
Aralia picks up two glasses of pink tea on our way to the corner of the ballroom. When we get there, she hands me one and says, “Down it before the dancing starts.”
“Are you gonna put the vesi in it?”
She grins a lopsided little smirk. “Already did,” she says, like it’s the easiest thing in the worlds.
With the Lucent woman watching me, I’m not sure I should be drinking. But on the other hand, with the Lucent woman watching me I’m sure I should be drinking. I debate for a moment and drink half—just to be safe.
Aralia wipes her mouth and looks at me with wide eyes. “You’re not finishing?” I shake my head. “More for me.” She grabs my glass and downs it with a gulp. Then she grabs her flask and takes another sip. One long exhale later and she’s dragging me across the floor again, to the middle of the room.
I spot Leiholan in the back. Even in a gray suit and slicked-back hair, he looks like a droozy. I don’t know how he got the role he has in this school.
Aralia picks up my hand and spins me, which I wasn’t ready for at all. When she starts dancing with me, I find myself asking, “Where are the rest of your friends?”
She frowns. “They’re not good friends.” I kind of hope that she doesn’t think I’m a good friend, because I’m sure that whoever they are would be much better than myself in terms of friendship with Aralia. But I dance with her while she makes pointed looks across the room.
“What is it?” I ask after she’s looked in the same direction for the fifth time.
“My mom,” she says with a frown. “She wants me to re-enroll in Acansa.”
Acansa, an all-Folk school in Lorucille. Aralia has briefly mentioned how she went there for two years with Calista. How when she got back a year ago everything had changed and that it wasn’t worth it.
“So you’d go back to Lorucille?” I say like the thought is sad, which I guess it kind of is. I wouldn’t mind a room for myself, but she’s done a lot for me already.
“Yeah,” she frowns and her hands stop swinging. “My sister is pregnant, and my mom thinks that showing the three of us as a united front will be best for the new star of the family,” she exaggerates the last four words. “Do you want a drink? The dances are going to start any minute.”
“Who are we dancing with?” I ask.
“Anyone. Everyone.”
I look at Lucian, then he looks at me. “Yes.”
I sip on the vesi and I can feel it burning through me. Much different to the bubbly warmth of the wine. Minutes later, I’m holding the neck of a man I’ve never met. He feels foreign beneath my palms, where I’ve gotten so used to holding Lucian. Dancing with him. I’d hoped I wouldn’t miss it, but here I am, dancing with another and thinking of him.
Keeping up with the steps doesn’t offer me any sense of pride with him on my mind. Noticing the older woman’s eyes that are still on me doesn’t do anything to help either.
And when I see Lucian look at that woman, I wonder what kind of game he’s playing.
The next person I’m holding is Kai. I tense beneath his hands without meaning to when I’m bombarded by the memory of dragging him to the forest. Of almost bashing Aralia’s head in. I look down.
“Not having a good time?” Kai asks.
I meet his brown gaze. “Not particularly, no.”
“It seems we have something in common,” he says as we slowly move across the floor.
I don’t particularly know what to say, but I’m thinking I have to make a good impression. I have the prince here, listening and talking to me. It’s an ample opportunity. One prince is valuable to have in my corner, so long as I can keep him there without divulging too much truth.
Why not try for two?
“Really? I kind of figured balls would be your thing.” I let out an exaggerated little laugh.
“And why would that be?” He raises a brow, but I think the gesture is more playful than anything. Good.
“I don’t know. You’re a prince. Isn’t this what you do?”
“Touché,” he says.
We dance a few steps in silence. I ask, “So you don’t like being a prince?”
He shrugs a little, then smiles. “It has its perks.”
“Like what?” I grin.
“No one can say anything when I do this.” Then he’s taking long strides and I’m fighting to keep up as we spin around the room. Something that no one else is doing. I feel a little dizzy, but when he laughs, I laugh too. “I’d say it’s well worth it.”
“Oh, yeah,” I laugh. “Me as well.”
“I believe our time might be coming to an end.” Kai presses his lips together and down in a mocking frown.
“I think you may be correct.” I smile. “Till we meet again?”
He lets out a second’s worth of laughter. “Till we meet again.”
My next three partners are nowhere near as entertaining as Kai. And when I see Lucian dancing with another girl, it’s the most irrational part of me that imagines that it’s his strong, calloused, and familiar hands on my waist.