Chapter Six - Gianna
“Hello, are you even listening to me?”
The bartender stares at me like I’ve grown whiskers and a tail. But I ignore him, arranging the crystal tumblers into the perfect pyramid.
“If you arrange the glasses like this,” I explain over the distant hum of celebratory conversation, “they’ll be easier to grab and look aesthetically pleasing in photos and to the guests.”
The bartender doesn’t say a word, and I frown. Why do all the people I hire look at me with the same blank expression? I’m beginning to think everyone is inept.
“Gi, I think he gets it,” Meg says beside me. Her dark eyes, magnified behind her glasses, hold concern—not for me, but for the man I’m currently terrorizing with my perfectionism.
Leigh trusted me to make her wedding weekend memorable. And dammit, that’s what I’m going to do, but judging by the apologetic look Meg gives the bartender on my behalf, maybe I don’t have to act like a cartoon villain while doing it.
“Carry on,” I tell the bartender, who quickly resumes filling orders.
Taking Meg’s hand, I lead her to the buffet table.
I haven’t eaten all night, and before I can relax and dance with her, I need some food.
While I was trying to grab a bite earlier, I saw the president rushing out.
The problem at the bar tore me away before I could ask anyone about her sudden departure.
I stop in my tracks. The canapé platters look sparse. Are we out of salmon puffs? With a groan, I scan the crowd for the caterer.
“I think she ran off in tears after your last encounter,” Meg teases.
“I was offering constructive feedback.” I’d politely informed the caterer that the servers need to wash their hands after petting the rabbits. No one wants tularemia.
“You mean criticism?”
My stomach tightens. “Is that what it sounded like? It’s a safety precaution.”
Meg shrugs, and her solid blue dress sways. “One that everyone knows. Besides, didn’t you say you weren’t going to obsess over wedding details tonight? That you’d let the staff handle things and have fun? You’ve done enough. Let your assistants take over from here.”
“I’m trying.” But I want everything to be perfect.
Meg lifts a brow.
I let out a sigh. Yes, I’ve promised to stop saying yes to everyone else’s demands and start focusing on my own needs. Except this party is the exception. Leigh’s my best friend, and she’s getting married.
I scan the thinning crowd—there’s no sign of Leigh or Wilder anywhere. I hold back a snort. I knew she wasn’t going to bed alone.
“How about we dance now?” I ask, pushing my hunger aside.
“You love this song.” It’s a string version of a pop song Meg always plays when she and her sisters close their family bar back home in Aurora.
Alec is there now, unable to close the bar for the entire weekend, and Phe, the youngest, is due to give birth to her first baby any second now.
“I’d love—”
“Gi, can we talk?” Ry appears behind me, his energy tense.
I jump and glance at Meg. Usually, I keep our interactions limited to the typical hi and bye to avoid any awkwardness. If he’s here to discuss our relationship, he’s a year too late.
“I’m busy,” I say firmly. “Meg and I are going to dance.”
Ry gives Meg a small smile. She observes him through narrowed eyes. They’ve been best friends their entire lives, and when they share silent communication like this, I’m awkwardly reminded that I’m the odd one out. It’s been this way since I moved to Aurora. I manage a smile.
“What’s wrong?” she asks him.
Ry winces. “Sorry, Meg, it’s classified.”
I tilt my head. “But you can tell me?”
Ry steers me away from Meg and into a secluded corner. When he faces me, he quietly says, “There’s been a daemon breach.”
My hand covers my mouth. “Here?” Is it going to impact the rest of the weekend?
“Not far from here, but that’s all the information I have.
I’m going to a meeting to find out more, but we can’t let the guests know.
Make sure people, especially Leigh’s mother and grandmother, don’t notice the queen, Wilder, and the president are missing.
We want to avoid hysteria. You see, this isn’t the first time these daemons have appeared.
They’ve shown up at random for months. The Glaucus Blades haven’t been able to find the rift.
That’s why, when Leigh moved the wedding, reinforcements were brought in from Borealis.
So can you help keep people occupied here long enough for the queen to get a handle on things? ”
My heart races. Did Leigh move the wedding from Borealis to Glaucus because of these breaches? I thought she had sentimental reasons for wanting to reschedule everything. Why didn’t she tell me the truth? Haven’t I proven myself trustworthy? I did all this for her.
“Gi, did you hear me? I know we’re asking a lot—you’re not a paid employee. Do you want me to ask someone else?”
I heard him. Ry wants me to distract the wedding guests. No one must notice that Leigh, Wilder, and Janus Dyer are gone. I’d watched Janus storm out earlier; her complexion drained to ash. Now I know why.
Off in the distance, Meg sways to the music. Leigh’s mother is dancing with a bald councilman, a genuine smile lighting her face. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her in years. To keep Cynthia and everyone else happy, I can do this one last thing. Then, I can let myself have fun.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.” His voice gentles, but not for me—for Leigh and Wilder.
As he turns away, I reach for him reflexively. When our fingers brush, his skin feels electric, and I jerk back. He frowns. Right—I lost that right long ago.
Still, letting Ry go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I had loved him so much. Part of me still does, but we didn’t work.
He hasn’t been my boyfriend for thirteen months—not since the day he proposed.
I cared for him, but I had just broken free from everyone’s expectations.
His proposal felt like he was trying to tie me down to his vision of our future, to someone else’s idea of who I should be.
It proved he didn’t truly know me or understand what I needed.
I said no. After two failed engagements, I wanted air.
I’ve always felt like a pawn. My mom and Elio pressured me to take VT, even though they knew how addictive vampire tears are, so I would have enough power granted by the drug to keep up the magical facade to hide my Nebula mark.
Fynn asked me to marry him when he found out he wasn’t Gwyn Raelyn’s child or heir and needed a suitable wife if he was going to keep up the lie that he was the next king instead of Don Raelyn’s son.
I understand why he did it; we were using each other, hiding our parents’ infidelity, but it still hurt.
Then Hammond took advantage of me to climb the social ranks in Borealis by linking himself to the president’s daughter.
I’ve had enough of others using me. I want to focus on myself and live by my own rules.
Things with Meg are easier than they ever were with Ry, Fynn, or Hammond.
We have a rule: no strings attached. The goal is to have fun.
Even so, her steadiness draws me in, and she makes me feel seen in the most intoxicating way.
If I let myself, I could lose myself in her, but that goes against my current no-strings-attached motto.
“Will you come back to update me on the breach?” I ask.
Ry blinks, returning to a conversation he thought had finished. He got what he wanted: me saving the party. I can do damage control, but I still want to know what will happen with the daemons.
“We’ll see.”
He turns away, his well-fitted suit reminding me of when I teased him about needing the right clothes to date Mayor Stellan Navi’s daughter. He shrugged me off then, but it warms my heart to see he took my advice instead of cursing my name after I hurt him.
Meg’s hand rests lightly on my shoulder a moment later. I lean into her quiet strength.
“What was that about?” she asks, no jealousy or suspicion in her tone, just genuine interest.
I sigh. “I have one more task to take care of tonight before we can have fun.”
“You could have said no.” Her voice is soft but direct.
I brush aside the discomfort and put on a smile. “It’s okay. I’m happy to help. Besides, Officer Pain in My Ass asked me to entertain the crowd while everyone else takes care of the official state business. I got the better deal.”
Meg quirks a reassuring smile. She’s been the most attentive date—never pushy, happy to lend a hand; meanwhile, I’ve been ghastly. More focused on the event than her enjoyment. I’m surprised she hasn’t hightailed it back to Aurora.
“I have an idea,” I say as I spot Felicity and her entourage. Engaging her is the last thing I want, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I stride to the band and grab the microphone. People hush instantly.
“Let’s give the band a hand.” I pause for applause. “But something’s missing, isn’t there? How about a special number from the bride’s cousin, Felicity Graves.”
The room gasps. Felicity eyes me warily but she can’t resist the spotlight all the same.
“Felicity’s a world-class opera singer. If we beg, maybe she’ll wow us with a song.” I grin while Meg stands nearby, tight-lipped but also protective. She’s cautious of Felicity after earlier, but it seems she understands that sometimes you need to play a longer game. Tension leaves my body.
Cajoling ripples through the crowd. Felicity sweeps up, accepts the mic, and launches into her routine. “Why yes, I’d love to. Do you know ‘Hex and Hymn of the Divine’?”
The band obliges. Felicity sings.
Damn. I almost wish she were terrible, but she hits every note perfectly. Her powerful voice echoes off the walls, weaving through the riveted crowd, who hang on every word.
Crisis handled, for now.
Meg finds my hand. “Wanna dance?”
Nothing sounds better than Meg spinning me across the floor.
Except I don’t move. Part of me wonders what’s being decided behind the Blade’s closed doors and whether it will change everything I’ve worked so hard to build for Leigh this weekend.
Leigh’s mother and grandmother are bright-eyed and chatting as they watch Felicity perform.
They can’t know anything’s amiss. It would ruin their happiness.
“I should wait to see if Ry returns,” I say to Meg, who frowns.
I’m a terrible date.