Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Istare at myself in the mirror, ignoring the rows of short dresses that Illyia somehow managed to find in this place.
I have chosen one with a floor-length skirt and a lacy top that covers all my burns right down to my wrists.
There’s a long slit up one side of the skirt, but even as I move, you can’t quite see the burns on me.
Illyia knocks once, popping her head around my door. “Did you choose?” I nod and wave at my skirt and top. “I like it. You look really nice!”
I smile at her. Illyia is wearing a short, tight red dress with a halter neck, showing off so much skin, and I only wish I could do that.
Her eyes soften as she reads my expression.
“You do know you’re beautiful. The burns…
” She shrugs her shoulders. “I have two moles on my ass that I think look awful, but not one man has cared. I don’t know what your burns look like to you, but you know it doesn’t matter to them?
Tannith said you didn’t date because you never found someone to be interested in, but if it is because you’re scared of anyone seeing you, don’t be.
Take it from me, those men of yours are obsessed.
You could wear any of these dresses and no one’s going to blink twice.
If they did, I’d punch them for you, and then one of your men would kill them.
” I smile, knowing she is right. “You can wear any of these.”
“I think I’ve half convinced myself that if they see the burns, they’re going to run a mile from me. Tannith often said I shouldn’t care too.” I look in the mirror. “When I see the burns, I see the monster who did it.”
“He’s dead, right?” She double-checks and I nod.
“Then don’t let him win. He wanted you to be scared to let anyone close, and I hate to tell you, those heirs and gargoyle are not going to run from you over the burns.
” She comes over, wrapping her arms around me.
“They look at you like you’re their world, and these burns are not going to make even an ounce of difference to how beautiful you are.
They’re not your fault, and they are not ugly.
You should just show them off as you fucking survived, Mere.
If anyone runs, they are just cowards, okay? I’ll kick him for you.”
“Imagine trying to kick Zyran. I doubt he’d even feel it.” I laugh.
Zyran steps into the room after knocking once, the door left open by Illyia.
The tartan he usually wears is gone, but there’s still tartan on him in a sense—his shirt that’s black and grey underneath a black jacket.
He’s also wearing black trousers and heavy boots.
A black cloak falls off his shoulders. Stunning.
His grey skin only amplifies his features, makes his dark eyes seem like stars as they lock onto me.
His eyes run down my dress and back up. “You are more beautiful than the night sky, love.”
“I need to find one of these.” She waves at Zyran. “Do you have any hot friends?”
“My friends are trapped on the Folkland,” he gruffly answers. “Are you both ready?”
“How are we getting to this place?” Illyia asks as I head to Zyran. “The city looks like it’s a good walk from this palace, and we both have heels on.”
“There are portals. Dain doesn’t just stay here rotting in his castle,” Zyran explains.
I take his hand, and he leads us out of the room, knowing exactly where he’s going as he takes me to a side room and opens the door.
There are several shadow portals all around the other side of the wall.
Life, people, the city—excited, talking and just living.
“These are six portal points across the city. Heavily guarded, of course—they can’t let just anybody walk in here. ”
“And where exactly are we going?” I enquire, even though I trust him.
He leans forward, kissing my cheek. “A nightclub of sorts.”
“I’m so excited!” Illyia jumps up and down, her heels slapping on the floor.
I shake my head at her, smiling. But as I turn away, a wave of sadness hits me.
Tannith. Goddesses above, she would have loved this.
I don’t think she’d even believe that I was going out on a date and having fun…
but I am. I’m doing it not only for myself, but for her.
For all the times she would tell me just to go for it, and I would just smile at her and stay home. I’m going for it now, Tannith.
Zyran, unaware of my internal unravelling, pulls me through the portal, with Illyia holding my other hand, and we step out into the busy streets of Void City.
People look so normal here—almost human, yet slightly paler, with extended teeth just like mine.
They look healthy, none of the usual signs of starvation that I grew up seeing in the human district.
They smile and laugh at each other’s jokes.
There are no children—though I suppose there wouldn’t be since it’s quite late at night.
Many start turning to stare directly at me and whispering.
Zyran unclips his cloak, pushing it around my shoulders and pulling the hood up over my head.
“Not that I want to cover up this beautiful hair, but many here will know that gold means royal, and they will follow. Tell anyone who asks that you have a dye on it.” I nod, pulling the hood close around me, enjoying how it smells like him.
Illyia stays close to my side as we push through the packed streets, people jostling us with every step.
Eventually, we come to a door. Two massive bodyguards stand in front of it, and there’s a huge queue. Zyran steps forward and says one word to the doorman, who pulls the door open for us, bowing his head. “Welcome.”
Illyia and I share a smile. I step inside, and Zyran takes the cloak off me, hanging it on the wall with many others before linking his fingers with mine.
My gold hair falls in waves around my shoulders as we walk down a few steps and out into what looks almost like a greenhouse full of black flowers.
They line the ceilings and walls, and some kind of glitter falls into the air above the people dancing in the middle.
The rest of the room has bars and several cushioned private areas, and it is packed full of people.
“Welcome to Ning,” Zyran begins. “Named after the flower. It has an effect quite like being drunk. You don’t need to drink much here; just being here gives you that feeling, and it wears off fast once you leave the dance floor. You won’t be sick tomorrow.”
I can get drunk without side effects? Yes please.
“You chose the best place,” Illyia squeals, already swaying to the music.
“Let’s dance!” She pulls me away, straight into the dancing crowd.
I laugh, glitter falling over my face, my hair, my clothes, as Illyia and I dance to music so unfamiliar yet so addictive.
It’s only seconds before I feel lightweight, and all my worries melt away.
I sway my hips, looking around until I find my date.
Zyran leans against the edge of the bar, his eyes fixed on mine and full of heat.
I move my hips to the beat, putting my arms into the air, and I dance, even knowing he is watching.
The beat of it—I can feel it under my skin.
The thump of the music and the way he looks at me has my skin pebbling.
Illyia soon pulls me farther into the crowd, and I lose track of Zyran.
I sway from side to side, laughing and feeling younger than I have in years.
I don’t know how long I dance before my head goes fuzzy.
Illyia has been swept up by another man.
“Illyia, I’m going to get a drink,” I tell her.
She lifts her hand to wave goodbye. I look around for Zyran, but I can’t see him in the crowd.
I slip through a few people, going up to one of the bars and sitting down.
I don’t exactly have any money on me, and I’m not sure how to order.
A man settles into the seat next to me—blond hair, blue eyes, very pretty.
I feel nothing. If anything, he just reminds me of Reed, and the longing for Reed hits me like a wave.
“Where’d you get the gold hair? Are you a bastard to the throne or something?” he roughly asks. A little rude, but he seems harmless enough.
“Just gold dye. Wanted it to look royal for a night.” I smile back.
“Well, you’ve done a very impressive job.” He reaches to touch my hair. I lean back slightly.
“No, thank you.” I turn back to the bar. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Let me buy you a drink while you wait.” He waves to the bartender, who comes straight over. He doesn’t give me the option to say no. “What’s your name?”
I almost tell him my real name and decide against it. “Illyia.”
“Interesting name. I saw you came in with the gargoyle.” He tilts his head. “Your family must be delighted. Dating him.” His tone is pointed.
“They might have been,” I answer. Dain was definitely pissed off and still is. He wants me to be publicly shown off as the returning princess, but not with Zyran. I’m not sure I want it, the whole city knowing I’m theirs. I would belong to them, owe them loyalty, all while they won’t accept Zyran.
He laughs. “Girls like you always like the bad ones, but fuck, he massacred five hundred people and killed two royals. I’m surprised anyone wants to be seen with him these days.
He used to be one of the trusted—one of the shadow commanders to the royals.
How far he fell when he was cursed by the old king.
He was banished and cursed, and usually they don’t return. I wonder what brought him back here…”
I stare ahead as he carries on talking, this time about his own life. The world blinks in and out. I don’t remember getting off the stool or seeing a door, but I somehow know where Zyran is. I walk up several flights of stairs and get to a rooftop.