Chapter 24
Shades of blue flood the ballroom—cobalt and indigo, some so pale they rival the shell of a robin’s egg. At first glance, it could be mistaken Delterran, if it weren’t for the billowing cloud nestled into the ceiling.
Lightning dances in time with the music, illuminating the room enough to discern shadowy figures, but not enough to expose where their hands roam. A servant brushes past us with a bottle of wine, headed to a crowded table surrounded by low settees.
“It’s going to be one of those nights,” Thea whispers, eyeing the figures intertwined at the outskirts of the room.
The music crescendos, and lightning strobes through the room. It reflects off the diamonds coating my body and scatters rainbows onto the marble floor. Dinner finished not long ago, and within minutes, the guests gathered here, ready to celebrate the upcoming second trial.
A tingle creeps up my spine and ripples down the base of my neck, pulling my attention to the opposite side of the room.
Kressa.
Her gaze is locked on me, lips slightly parted.
My pulse kicks up, pounding like the footsteps on the dance floor. Her eyes sweep down my body, and my skin shivers as if it were her fingertips grazing my skin. A burning warmth spreads across my chest, and a tight knot unravels, urging me toward her.
Thea rests her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I nod and pull my attention from Kressa. “Do you remember what you have to do?”
“Talk to nobles and mention seeing Harriet in the room.” She pinches her lips. “You don’t think Caelus will notice her missing?”
Rain pours from the cloud overhead and disappears before drenching guests, as if there’s an invisible umbrella stretched over the crowd.
I shake my head. “There are too many people here for him to single out Harriet. But if he does ask around, people will assume she was here based on what you said.”
A noblewoman comes up to Thea’s side and extends a glass of wine. She accepts it, her lips tilting into a suggestive smile as she gives me a nod. “I’m nearby if you need me.”
I swallow, my stomach hollowing as she’s pulled away. It never gets easier watching her walk off with someone who isn’t Celia, but it’s the one thing I cannot interfere with, no matter how hard I try. I can’t force her to love someone she doesn’t remember.
The rain from the cloud ceases, and lightning crests as another song begins. Nobles smile across tables, tapping their glasses together, and my nostrils flare.
Men could die in tomorrow’s trial, and these people are celebrating.
A breeze drifts across my shoulders and spider crawls down the front of my dress. A hand snakes around my waist. “I’ve been waiting all evening for you.”
I clench my jaw. The absence of my blade is like missing a limb. I’ve never wielded it at Caelus, but knowing I could wraps me in comfort. Without it, I’m bare. Vulnerable.
Admiring the room, I slide out of his grip. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight.”
At Isolde’s expense, no doubt—considering she was too tired to attend this portion of the evening. Or she’s off, busy strengthening her army.
He scans my body, gaze slithering over my hips and my breasts. “Indeed, I have.”
I suppress a shudder and square my shoulders, refusing to make a smaller version of myself.
“Come,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading me to a settee.
I sink into the cushioned velvet as a servant emerges from a doorway, bottle of wine in hand. She pauses before us and drops into a low curtsy, her grey uniform snagging on the raw edges of the table. Eyes downcast, she sets the bottle on the table and mumbles, “Your Highness.”
Caelus reaches for the bottle, and I watch the servant retreat to the kitchen doorway. She pauses and, as if she expected my attention, glances over her shoulder.
“Don’t drink it,” she mouths.
I blink and furrow my brows as Caelus pours a glass. I rise from the seat. “I’ll be right back, I have to—”
He wraps a hand around my waist and yanks me to his lap, hands brazenly roaming my body. “You don’t go anywhere without my permission.”
I lean away from his touch and distract myself with the couples twirling on the dance floor. At least Isolde isn’t here to witness the way I’m being used.
“Wine?” Caelus asks, handing me a glass.
I accept it and bring it to my mouth, but I don’t let a drop pass my lips. Caelus swallows a mouthful, his chest shifting behind my back.
Leaning forward, he sets his glass on the table and rests a hand on my bare thigh. “What do you think of the dress?”
I turn my face away from him. “It’s beautiful.”
He toys with one of the small diamonds dangling from my shoulder, each touch chipping away at my patience. “I could have a hundred of these made for you, if you’d like. With the taxes we’re collecting.”
My brows furrow. “Taxes? On what?”
“The competition bets, of course.”
A sour taste fills my mouth. My vision tunnels on the gauzy lace floating over my body and the diamonds that are nothing more than a token of bloodshed—this dress a symbol of death.
It belongs on the seafloor.
“It’s not right to bet on their lives.”
Caelus goes rigid.
His hands pause their aimless roaming. “Look at them.” He tilts his chin at the crowd, the participants sticking out like stones in a bed of sapphires.
“Their lives mean nothing. If my power is at Terra’s mercy, I’ll exploit the competition however I see fit.
With any luck, this will be the final one I have to agree to.
After that, my power will be limitless.”
Lighting strikes in a flurry overhead, and I wring my hands in my lap. “Have you discovered how to do that yet?” I don’t dare leak judgment into my words, even though every inch of my being revolts.
Not only is it against our entire nature, but it would make him invincible. Without having to siphon weakening power, Caelus could create an entire immortal army.
We wouldn’t stand a chance.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. But I found an ancient text buried deep within the library. It’s in another language, so I’m working through translating them. It seems to be some sort of elemental sorcery from the Fire Court.”
I lower my voice. Even my mother doesn’t speak of that time—when the court established by Serinos ruled. The first court. “Before it disappeared?”
He gives me a slight nod and lifts his glass, washing his words down with a sip of wine. If this book predates the courts’ existence, it’s a miracle it exists at all.
“But I have no interest in bowing to either God,” Caelus says. “If I escape the bonds of Terra’s rule, I’ll bow to no one.”
At those words, his hands sneak under the slit in my dress and trace jagged lines on the soft flesh of my inner thigh. When my power returns, I’m going to smile as I break those fingers off one by one.
But for now, I’m desperate. Desperate for something that will get his power-hungry mind off my body.
“Do you really think Kressa is dangerous?”
He hums into the crook of my neck, and the hand gliding over my leg folds into a fist. “Since The Gales began, reports of missing people have spiked all over Sarenia. Most notably, young women who have no family in the area.”
Phantom fingers close around my throat, and a weight drops onto my chest. “You think she’s involved in the disappearances?”
“She’s quite the accomplished bounty hunter, perfectly capable of making sure people aren’t found. But beyond that, I think she may be a spy from the Earth Court.”
My skin goes cold. Earth Court. “What makes you think that?”
“There’s no record of a Kressa Beaumont in any court. If she’s lying about her name, what else could she be lying about?”
My stomach churns. Briar Rielle doesn’t exist either.
“If you can confirm she’s a spy,” he continues, “or involved with these missing women, I can have her arrested.”
My gaze floats around the room. Other than this evening, I haven’t seen her since after the first trial. Nearly an entire week of movement I haven’t kept tabs on.
A shiver climbs up the back of my neck. Kressa rises from her seat and heads our way, her gaze pinned on me. Unlike when I saw her in my room, the top buttons of her shirt are undone, sleeves pushed to her elbows. And, despite the warning in my head to stay away, my heart tugs in her direction.
Something forgotten—deep in my chest—flickers.
Caelus’s hand twists into my hair, and he yanks my face to his.
I struggle against his grip. “You’re hurt—"
He smashes his lips against mine. His tongue plunges between my pressed lips, and my entire body stiffens. I push against his chest, lean my head back, anything to break this unwelcome kiss. He only tugs me closer.
Ringing fills my ears, and my heart thrashes against my ribs. My hand finds the spot at my thigh where my dagger usually rests, but there’s no hilt. No security.
He pulls away with a satisfied grin. I fight the urge to wipe my forearm across my mouth and erase his touch. But it’s there. A brand on my lips.
“Kressa,” Caelus drawls. “What can I help you with?”
A muscle tics in her jaw, and her gaze slides to me, eyes softening for a heartbeat before returning to Caelus. “Briar promised me a dance.”
Caelus slides his hand from my knee to the curve of my hip, palming the skin. “I’ll allow it.”
I grit my teeth and rise from his lap, my feet unsteady beneath me. Kressa braces me with a firm hand at my elbow, and I stop myself from leaning into it.
Caelus leans over the table and refills his glass. “She’s quite a sight, isn’t she?”
Kressa’s eyes linger on me. “Beautiful.”
My breath catches in my throat, and she cups my hand in hers.
“But what I admire more than that”—she brings the back of my hand to her lips—“is her bravery.”
Lightning flashes, blinding against the walls. Kressa wraps her arm around my waist and leads me to the dance floor. “Are you okay?”
Her voice soothes the edges of my nerves, but my resolve crumbles. The dress constricts over my skin until I can’t breathe, and I shake my head. “No.”