Chapter 35 Nyx
NYX
As I climb the stairs to the Great Hall, holding my skirt up like an actual fucking princess or something, I try to remember everything Tori told me about the Governor’s Gala.
“First, whatever you do, don’t be yourself,” she said as Maeve fitted the ballgown yesterday for any last minute alterations. Like Samhain, we went to Lisette’s shop in Hemlock Hill.
Like Samhain, I tried to get out of spending a ludicrous amount of money on a dress that doesn’t even have pockets, for fuck’s sake.
Like Samhain, I was outvoted.
“It’s when all the Councils come together—Dark, Witch, Vampire, Fae, and Shifter—to celebrate the student’s achievements throughout the year and wish everyone luck in the Crypteia.
They also meet with potential recruits for post-graduation positions within the Council government.
Don’t look at me like that—it’s supposed to be fun! ”
“Fun” is not a word I’d use to describe being stuffed into the black and gold embroidered corset of the gown they agreed on despite my protests.
Not that it’s not beautiful—the cream tulle underskirt and red overskirt have hundreds of blood red fabric roses and falling petals embroidered into the thin material, with beaded embellished thorny vines running from where the skirts are gathered at my hip, revealing my leg through the subtle slit in the skirt every time I walk.
Lisette was entirely too pleased with herself at finding a gown inspired by my powers, despite my protests.
The room is once again transformed. Instead of shadows and darkness for Samhain, the Great Hall is alight with glittering chandeliers and mirrors hanging from the ceiling, throwing shards of golden light to every corner.
Tori and Evie lead the way with Brynne at my back so I can’t escape, and together they usher me through the crowd.
“Here,” Brynne says, handing me a glass of champagne from a passing server.
“This is why you’re my favorite,” I murmur along with my thanks, and she downs her glass at the same time.
Her tiered tulle dress in various shades of pink that glitter from tiny beads sewn into the layers bounces as we walk.
When I told her she looked like a cupcake come to life, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “That’s the point.
” Tori’s shimmering, iridescent silver spaghetti strap slip dress with a cowl neckline catches the light with every step, and I notice more than a few men and women stare appreciatively as her curves sway with every step.
If only I didn’t prefer dick, I’d wife her up in a heartbeat.
“Come on, my mom wants to meet you.” She takes my hand, pulling me along like a dog that doesn’t want to go home pulling against their owner’s leash.
Brynne peels off when she recognizes someone through the crowd and Evie, in her flaming red, one-shoulder embellished dress, moves to my side with military precision to cover her.
They herd me until Vivica and her other daughters, Vanna and Nikki, finally appear.
They’ve finally warmed up to me since Samhain—well, more like Tori and Evie have worn them down about me hanging around.
Vanna, the eldest, is wearing a black suit this time.
One side of the asymmetrical jacket is embellished with diamond patterns of varying sizes.
Behind her, a black, beaded lace train falls from her waist. With her half-shaved blonde hair, the combination makes her light blue eyes sparkle even brighter in the light.
Nikki chose a flower theme too, however hers is dainty and soft where mine is…
slightly menacing. The moss green high-low dress is adorned with a cascade of beaded petals that fall from the sheer top to the solid skirt, and she wears a matching laurel wreath around her head like a crown.
“Girls, you look absolutely marvelous.” Vivica opens her arms as my two guards abandon me to greet their mother.
Like Vanna, Vivica has chosen all black.
Her floor length gown is relatively plain save for the embellished high-neck, keyhole collar with black metallic scales that drip down her shoulders and draped sleeves.
Her dark blonde hair is twisted back in the front and secured in a low bun, making her severe face even sharper.
“And Ms. Byrke—may I call you Nyx?” I nod with a stiff smile. “Nyx—it’s wonderful to see you again. How have you been since the hearing?”
“Good, thanks.” Her wide grin doesn’t falter at my stilted response, but something in her eyes shift with the light and awareness drips down my spine when I realize she’s watching me as closely as I’m watching her.
Vanna, Nikki, and Evie excuse themselves after some small talk, and then Tori pounces.
“I was telling Mom that we should invite you over this Summer—we have plenty of room at the covenstead, and you’d be able to celebrate the solstice with us! The bonfires here are great, but there’s just something about being with other witches that makes it truly magical.”
My lips twitch when I deadpan, “You mean, besides the actual magic?”
She scoffs indignantly. “You’re impossible.”
“Do you have any plans for this Summer, Nyx?” Vivica asks.
Not if I can help it—after being at Dreadhurst for this long, I’m ready to be on my own again. My own room, my own schedule, and earning my own money rather than relying on the generosity of others, even if it is a scholarship.
“I was going to ask Professor Brandt and Headmaster Church if my scholarship includes any housing over the summer, and then go from there.”
She hums, not breaking eye contact. “We’d be delighted to have you stay with us, of course.”
“That’s very kind—I’ll have to let Tori know what I find out.”
“You’re going to love it, Nyx—oh! I see Brynne and her aunt. I wanted to ask her about her Grandmastery presentation on Alchemy. Be right back!” Tori takes off before I can ask her to take me with her, and then it’s just me and Vivica waiting for the other to make their first move.
“That reminds me—I’ve launched an official inquiry into the Bloodwitch grimoire mentioned in Professor Brandt’s report provided to the Council.
The likelihood of finding it is slim given how long it’s been, but I firmly believe that anything is better than nothing to help you master this phenomenal power.
When you visit us, I’ll show you the Hektreia Coven grimoire—it’s a fascinating record. ”
When, not if. Keep thinking that, Viv.
“Can’t wait.” Just then, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when a cold spot approaches from behind me, and then I’m looking into the blood-red eyes of Armand Foucault, the Vampire Councilman from the hearing.
“Armand, so lovely to see you again.” She smiles warmly. “Nyx—Armand was just elected as the Chairman of the Vampire Council.”
“Congratulations.” I nod politely, despite wanting to crawl out of my skin at his proximity.
“Yes, well done,” she raises her glass, and he nods in thanks.
A tall man in his fifties—at least, he appears to be, there’s no knowing how old he really is—with perfectly styled dark gray hair that’s buzzed on the sides, and gray stubble that accentuates his sapphire blue eyes, Armand is the picture of poise.
When he speaks, his deep voice is still heavily accented.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Nyx.” He holds his hand out for me to shake, but when I try to return the gesture he kisses my knuckles without breaking eye contact, and it takes everything in me to keep from wiping the trace of it on my skirts when he turns to Vivica
“Madame, your support was the key to my victory. Did you receive my gift of thanks?”
For the first time since I’ve seen her, Vivica’s smile actually reaches her eyes. “Armand, it’s perfect. Exactly what I’ve been looking for. How did you ever find one?”
When he gives her a knowing smirk, I decide that I never want to know what makes a man like him, smile like that. “It’s been in my possession for some time, but you had more use for it than I do these days. I’m glad it’s found a home where it’ll be appreciated.”
“Absolutely, I’m eager to see what else it can do—” from the corner of my eye, I see Milo waving wildly across the room and excuse myself before whatever the fuck that was gets ever weirder.
It takes me a moment to work my way around the crowd—steering clear of the dancers, the minglers, the drinkers.
Well—not all of them, as I realize when Milo nearly calls me over.
“Nyxxxx! Your dress is amazing, very on brand. Are you having fun? Of course you’re not,” he laughs, throwing his arm over my shoulders, “this is your worst nightmare. Like Batman.” Deciding he doesn’t need whatever’s in his half-full glass, I quickly take it from him and finish it off.
He gasps in faux outrange. “Excuse you, I was going to throw that up later.”
“Gross.” I cough as my throat burns. He pats me on the back, which helps absolutely zero.
“I’m glad you’re here, I need your help to settle an argument.
This asshole—” he points to the empty space in front of us, “is the worst at charades. Lookit—what the hell does,” he gesticulates wildly, nearly tipping both of us over, “this mean? I say it’s a walrus on a unicycle, but he keeps saying I’m wrong. ”
“Milo, I think you’re seeing dead people again.”
He pauses and his eyes widen comically, and then he doubles over in laughter.
“Did you just Bruce Willis me?!” he wipes his eyes and looks at the empty space again.
“Don’t get mad at me! That was hilarious.
Ow!” he flinches and then rubs his shoulder.
“Uncalled for, dude. Don’t make me yeet you back through the Veil. ”
“Hey, have you seen Ramsey?” I ask before his argument with a ghost…spirit…whatever can escalate. He pulls a flask from somewhere and takes several large gulps, shivering at the aftertaste.