Chapter 12 Festival of Fury
~ DONAVYN ~
The king hadn’t been exaggerating when he invited me and Kgosi as guests of honor.
Not only had he ordered the servants to build wreaths of flowers for the dragons, and arches in the gardens, but he’d erected tall frames to hold torches and lanterns to illuminate their scales.
When I accompanied the dragons to the lawn at the hour prior to the Ball, I worried there was so much heat from the flames, the trees might be at risk of going up in bonfires before the end of the night.
Kgosi gave a long-suffering sigh, but I didn’t miss that the moment a carriage of nobles rolled up, he made a great show of swinging his head and growling so that the women nervously hurried past.
That was the king’s game: No visiting noble or merchant would enter the castle without being forced to walk past the dragons, who made a very impressive sight.
And then, when I’d gathered Bren from the modiste downstairs—at the insistence of the queen herself—and brought her up to the ballroom, we were once again ushered past the line of waiting nobles, and announced first.
There’d barely been time to think, or speak, as the day progressed, so I paused at the top of the grand staircase as we were announced, and stared down at Bren, bowing over her hand and displaying her to the glittering crowd below.
Her cheeks warmed—and once again, I felt that flutter within her that had always, until the past few days, heralded the gleam in her eye, and the hum of her body.
But tonight, once again, she caught herself, and a zing of nerves jolted through her in its wake.
I was saddened, and planned to ask Akhane how I could soothe her fear—both, over our intimacies, and her obvious worry that I would grow upset about the lack thereof.
But this wasn’t the time.
I brushed another kiss to her knuckles and smiled at her. “You look stunning, my Love.”
Her lips curled up in a soft smile, and then I led her down the stairs to the glittering crowd—which finally, tonight, included Hanson.
The moment I saw that sleek, black head at the back of the room, something deep in my guts went cold. I had to measure myself for a moment—would that rush of blazing rage return? Would that sense of barely-leashed aggression overtake me?
No.
Thank God, no.
Cold, furious focus? Yes. But I was in control. I just wanted to smack the smirk off Hanson’s face.
I yearned to see Ruin revealed for the criminal fuckwit that he was. But I had rediscovered patience.
Patience to wait for him to be truly seen and punished for the depths of what he was. Patience to trust the Creator not to waste the opportunity on petty retribution, but to unveil true justice for the worst of what this young man had become.
So, I ignored Hanson, who was pretending to ignore us, lounging near the wall with a glass of wine in his hand. But I warned Bren that I’d seen him, and we hurriedly recounted our plan.
‘I’ll wait for him to approach me, as I always have,’ she assured me.
‘Don’t fall for any ploy he might try to remove you from the ballroom or the surrounding halls.’
‘I won’t. But I’m also not going to play games with him. I’ll ask him direct questions and see how he responds.’
‘You know him better than me. Do what you believe is best. Just don’t be impatient.’
‘I won’t—and thank you.’
I frowned at the wall away from her, as I led her towards the gaggle of nobles gathering at the side of the ballroom. ‘For what?’
‘For being patient, too.’
I glanced at her for one, long breath, praying she saw the admiration and trust in my eyes. I was about to tell her, explicitly. But then the Cryer’s voice rose from the top of the staircase behind us and my blood froze in my veins.
“Ruin Galdec, an honored Furyknight of Vosgaarde!”
The entire ballroom turned with an intake of breath that caused the candles to flutter.
Bren and I both whirled. I gripped her hand, reaching for her in the bond as her fingers went cold.
‘Bren—’
She shook her head, but didn’t respond, her eyes locked on the dashing figure at the top of the stairs.
Ruin dressed in clean, perfectly-cut, black leather that hugged him like a second skin from throat to toe, his burnished hair tousled as if he’d been riding—though it was clear to any Furyknight that he had not.
He trotted down the steps and towards the same cluster of nobles we approached, his eyes locked on someone behind us, though to my surprise, he stopped a few feet away from where we stood, and saluted me.
“Permission to enjoy the evening, sir!” he barked with a charismatic smile.
With no other choice, I gestured to him to continue, and he bowed to me, ignoring Bren completely, then strode past us both.
We turned to follow his passage, only to see him warmly greeted by Hanson halfway across the ballroom floor, then ushered back to the others who crowded in to receive bows and greetings.
“What… the… fuck?” Bren breathed. I felt the lurch in her, the return of her fragility, the sickness in her stomach.
‘Do you need a moment?’ I asked her seriously. I thought I could use one.
But Bren shook her head, her eyes never leaving Ruin’s back as he was greeted and slapped and cajoled by the very men and women who’d welcomed me so warmly. ‘Absolutely not. I need fucking answers.’
She started after him, but I caught her forearm. When she turned on me, her eyes blazed and I stared a warning at her.
‘Donavyn, don’t fall back into—’
‘I’m not stopping you from going to them—either of them,’ I said, though I could barely believe I said it. ‘But take a second and breathe, Bren. This is it. This is the turning point. From here, it all begins. Don’t stumble into it. Breathe. Think. Plan. Make certain you’re ready.’
She took a deep, sharp inhale, then blew it out.
‘Good,’ I commended her, then tucked her hand into my elbow and stood casually, one leg bent, as we perused the group. ‘We need a plan of attack.’
We stood there, heads tilted together as if we were merely chatting. But I felt Bren stiffen the moment Ruin was introduced to a young woman I hadn’t seen before.
‘That’s Grace!’ she hissed in the bond, and tensed as if she’d stalk off.
‘Have a care, Bren. Think this through.’
‘I am! I won’t let him woo her—she’s lonely, and romanticizes the dragons and adventure. He’ll eat her alive!’
Shit. I nodded once, nostrils flaring as I sucked in a breath. ‘Then, let’s go. But you follow my lead.’
‘But—’
‘He’s my subordinate, and I’m going to remind him—and the rest of them—of that fact. I’ll watch after Grace. Leave him to me. You go after Hanson.’
I felt her bristle, but she nodded once as we approached the others, both of us pasting smiles on our faces at the chorus of greetings and sharp-eyed smiles.
“Why didn’t you tell us that your charming Officer had arrived, Donavyn?” Lady Faye fluttered.
“I’m as surprised as you, my lady,” I said through a clenched jaw. “Ruin’s orders took him elsewhere until recently, didn’t they, son?”
Ruin bowed his head, but I saw his jaw flex. “Yes, sir.”
“So, you do know each other?” Lady Faye’s eyes widened with delight.
“Of course!” Ruin said jovially, turning to include the entire group in his address.
“I’ve always admired the General and wished to emulate him.
I couldn’t tell you how grateful I am for his training.
I would never have reached where I am today without him.
” A quick glance turned the statement into a jab, but I ignored the blades in his eyes and nodded as if he’d complimented me.
“Of course, every young Furyknight admires the General—all of us yearn to one day earn his respect.”
“And perhaps, my rank?” I asked with a smile.
Ruin chuckled as the others laughed, but his eyes glinted. “One could never know. You’re such an active leader, sir—always at the forefront, engaging directly… in battle,” he added a beat too late.
Many of the noble women began to flutter their fans and whisper, their heated gazes cutting to me.
I pretended I didn’t notice. But Ruin plowed on, his expression suddenly grieved.
“If we were ever to lose you, sir, it would be devastating. Please, take care of yourself. But rest assured, if anything were to happen to you, I would be honored to fill your shoes one day.”
The little puke stain thought he could threaten me?!
“You could never hope to fill Donavyn’s shoes,” Bren snapped, not even attempting to pretend she was pleased to see Ruin.
His brows shot up and he stared at her, scanning her from head to toe as if he’d just seen her for the first time and was surprised.
All around her, the nobles’ heads snapped to her with shocked or scandalized expressions. No one had missed her ugly tone.
“Oh, of course not,” Ruin responded with a false smile, recovering quickly. “Though, isn’t it remarkable who steps into an empty void when a man leaves? You’re right that the replacement is often inferior, but such is life. God chooses humble men for great duty.”
I rolled my jaw and almost guffawed. He thought he’d get me with dick envy? I swallowed actual laughter.
Whispers began to flutter between the nobles, but Bren smiled sweetly and lay a hand on my arm. “It is true at times. Though, in my experience, a successor is often so much… bigger and better in life, one might even forget who came before.”
Oh ho! The nobles, now firmly convinced of the competition they watched play out, snapped all eyes back to me, thinking they’d just heard Bren insult me.
I smiled and took a glass from a passing servant’s tray, then raised it to Ruin as the servants continued through the crowd to serve the others.
“Here’s to you and your… inevitable future, Ruin,” I said with a smile.
He bowed his head as if he’d received a compliment, then turned to the nobles listening as if he were sharing a confidence.
“I may be young, but I’m wise enough to know—never try to take the place of your heroes,” he said with false modesty. “When a great man has walked the path before, it has already been cut to nothing. There is no challenge. Much better to forge an entirely new one.”
I bristled at the offense to Bren, but she squeezed my arm and smiled brightly.
“You’re so right,” she says quietly. “A new path is much, much better. And so much more satisfying.”
None of the nobles were under any pretense of what was occurring in front of them, though some were clearly confused about why.
But before Ruin could respond, Hanson broke in with a wry drawl. “Honestly, just pay someone to forge the path for you. It’s much easier all around.”
The nobles rewarded him with an overly-big laugh, their relief and delight plain. But Hanson’s gaze was sharp on Bren, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
As the gossips leaned into each other behind their fans, Hanson boldly approached, ignoring me completely, and bowing before Bren.
The nobles’ eyes went wide to watch three powerful men vying for her attention, as Hanson offered his hand.
“Please, my Lady Brennan, would you honor me with a dance?”
It was customary for a woman to dance first with the man who’d brought her. But Bren, cheeks pink with anger that I was sure our watchers assumed was embarrassment, curtseyed once, then let go of my arm to take his proffered hand.
‘Let me give him a reason to hope—and maybe trust me,’ she sent.
Her presence of mind with Ruin there, staring, was admirable. And terrifying.
Reluctantly, I stepped aside, watching both Hanson and Ruin, whose eyes both locked on her.
I waited for Ruin to finally stop following her with his gaze when the two disappeared among the others already sweeping around the floor.
I raised the glass to him again, but made certain my smile left him under no confusion about exactly what I thought about his presence.