Chapter 33 – — Veilguard Memoir, Unsigned
Chapter Thirty-Three
“The first time current answers you, you will believe you have called it. You have not called it. It has been listening.”
— Veilguard Memoir, Unsigned
Lux is on her knees in front of her closet pulling out shoes, surrounded by all the dresses she took out on loan from the seamstress in town. Her entire room is covered in dresses.
“This one.” She holds up a black sheath with white lace at the collar and frowns. “No. Too much like a funeral.”
“It’s been that kind of year, Lux.”
“Don’t be dark.” She tosses the dress over her shoulder onto the pile.
“We are celebrating. Finals are over, and we all passed. We aren’t bone years anymore, guys.
After tonight we are blood years. Real, almost respectable, allowed-to-touch-instruments on our own healers.
You should be screaming.” She beams at me and Ellavee.
“I’ll scream tomorrow.”
Ellavee laughs.
“You’ll scream tonight, or I’ll do it for you.” Lux tosses another dress aside.
“Technically, we aren’t blood years until we make it back after summer break.”
I’m sitting cross-legged on her bed in my robe. Poppy is curled up in my lap, watching Lux ransack her room. Ellavee is at Lux’s vanity, already in her light-pink dress she had picked out ahead of time. She’s braiding pieces of her blonde hair and arranging it into an updo.
“My final mark in my father’s class was low pass,” Lux mutters, pulling out a pair of sparkly shoes. “He gave his own daughter a low. Tell me how that’s supposed to make me look.”
“It means he’s not playing favorites,” Ellavee says without looking. “Be glad.”
“I want him to play favorites. He gave Killian a high pass, and Killian fights like he’s kicking a wagon.”
“Killian got hit in the spleen during midterms. Bale’s marking on bravery now,” I tell her.
“Bravery isn’t a metric.”
“It is at this academy,” Ellavee mumbles, tucking a strand of hair up and pinning it in place.
Lux grumbles and yanks a hanger off the rack. “What did you get in Cane’s, Mae?”
“Low pass.”
She freezes. “You did not.”
“I did,” I sigh.
“I thought you really liked her class. Why low pass?”
“Probably because she had a weird thing for Jace, and I don’t think it went unnoticed that he hates me.”
She laughs.
“What about Nestor?” Ellavee asks, finally turning from the mirror.
“High pass.”
Lux whistles. Ellavee tips her head. “Of course she did.”
I smile. “What does that mean?”
“He is keeping you close, and a high pass keeps you in his class for next year. He obviously has a thing for Pops.”
I scratch the top of Poppy’s head, looking down at her, because Ellavee isn’t wrong there.
“Okay, how’s this one?”
Lux straightens. She’s wearing a navy form-fitting dress with a deep neckline. She spins around, and the back exposes the long line of her spine. She pulls her light-pink hair into a high knot and lets a few pieces fall along her jaw.
“You look amazing,” I say. “Lyrian is going to be all over you tonight.”
“He is going to forget how to speak,” Ellavee says, and Lux throws a piece of clothing at her.
“Now you,” Lux says, clapping her hands together.
I let her pick out my dress, because I told her I didn’t care what I wore. I have too many other things on my mind, plus she loves this kind of thing.
She crosses to her closet and lifts the dress she’s been hiding from me all week. She refused to let me try it on, insisting it would fit and that she wanted it to be a surprise.
She holds it up.
The gown is a muted silver and icy blue that shifts in the light.
A lace-trimmed satin bodice with a delicate bow gives way to a sheer, tight panel adorned with intricate frost-like embroidery that traces down the length of the dress.
Tiny off-the-shoulder straps made of lace finish it.
The whole gown looks both delicate and commanding.
“It’s stunning.”
She tosses it at me. “Go put it on.”
I slip into it in the bathroom and examine myself in the mirror.
I already dried my hair and darkened my eyes, but the dress makes me look regal.
It hugs my body, and my red hair against the silvery-pale blue is the kind of contrast that makes a person stop walking.
I would never have picked something like this for myself.
I feel beautiful in it.
I exit the bathroom, and Lux and Ellavee are both standing there waiting for me.
“I look—”
“Don’t,” Lux says. “Don’t say ‘fine.’ You look like the godsdamn moon, Maelis.” She squeals.
“That’s a stretch,” I laugh.
“It isn’t,” Ellavee says.
I smile. “Thank you guys for getting me ready. I couldn’t have done it without you. You both look gorgeous too.”
We all hug.
Then we leave Lux’s room together, the three of us, my heels clicking against the stone. Heels were not a smart choice for what I need to do tonight, but at least it’s a short heel.
I can hear music already. Strings layered with the low murmur of voices.
The grand hall is ahead, and light spills out of the open double doors in long warm bands across the snow. Figures in dark formal wear move in and out of the light.
“Last time we walked into a room like this, it was for orientation. Do you remember?” Lux says.
“How could we forget?”
We step inside, and the room has been completely transformed.
The chandeliers above us are massive structures spelled with current to glow faintly from within, casting amber light across the polished floor.
Tall ice sculptures rise from each corner of the hall.
The sculptures are the eidolons of the academy.
A bat with wings spread wide. A serpent coiled. A wolf with its head lifted.
And in the fourth corner of the room is a raccoon sitting on its haunches, holding a brain.
I stop walking. Lux turns to look at me.
“What is it?”
“Why is there an ice raccoon?”
“There’s only one person here who could have done that. I’ll give you one guess,” Ellavee says.
Lux and I both say in unison, “Professor Nestor.”
He’s an earth mage, so controlling the elements is something he’s very adept at.
“Told you he had a thing for Poppy,” Ellavee says, and we keep walking deeper into the room.
An orchestra plays something low and slow at the far end of the hall. Faculty is standing in small clusters along the perimeter and on the second-floor balcony. I see Bale near the window, his arms crossed while he talks to Cane, who looks great in a purple velvet dress.
“Oh gods,” Lux breathes, “Lyrian is here.”
“Of course he’s here, looking all hot and fiery with his red hair.” Ellavee says.
“Hey.” I slap Ellavee’s arm then turn to Lux, “Go. We’ll find you later,” I tell her.
She smiles before disappearing into the crowd in a flash of silk and navy blue.
“I need a drink,” Ellavee says, heading toward the bar.
I need to keep a clear head for tonight, but I still go with her.
Nestor is by the buffet table with a glass of something dark, watching the room over his spectacles. He sees me and inclines his head. I salute and smile. I’ll have to thank him later for including Poppy.
Ellavee takes a shot of something. “I’m going to dance. Want to come?”
I look over at her. “No, go ahead. I’ll see you later.”
She vanishes into the crowd, and I grab one of the colorful bubbly drinks the bartender assured me is non-alcoholic. I take a sip of the fruity liquid and turn to take in the room.
“You look very nice tonight, Mae.”
I freeze when I hear his voice and turn to see Jace. He’s in a white suit, the same color as his wings. I look up and meet his blue eye, the one that has lost its luster. His other is covered in a dark-gray patch.
He grabs his drink and walks away before I can say anything.
I’m too in shock to move. Is he being nice or fucking with me?
“Red.”
I internally cringe and look to my right. Malric is dressed in deep red, and I think it’s fitting, given how sinister he is.
I dip my head to him but don’t say anything. I don’t want to engage.
“I think it’s time I get that dance we talked about,” he says.
I close my eyes and inhale. Do not lose your shit. He’s not worth your time.
“I’m not dancing tonight,” I say as pleasantly as I can and take another sip of my drink.
“When are you going to believe me? I’ve tried to tell you that you don’t want to make an enemy out of me, Red.”
I’m not in the mood for this.
“One dance and you’ll leave me alone indefinitely?”
He smiles, because he knows I’m about to give in. He holds his hands up like he’s surrendering.
“Let’s say next time you’ll be asking me.”
I almost choke when I laugh. “Yeah, that’ll never happen. Let’s get this over with so I can get on with my night.”
He holds out his hand to me.
He leads me onto the floor, and the orchestra transitions into something slower than it was a moment ago.
His other hand finds my waist, and he places it lower than is polite. I shift it up two inches without breaking eye contact. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t fight me.
“There she is,” he says. “Was wondering when you’d show your teeth tonight.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t talk.”
“Now where have I heard that before?”
My stomach turns. The exam table flashes through me without permission, his mouth on my throat, his hand sliding down my hip, the moment I came back to myself and shoved him off.
I push the memory back. I focus on the rhythm of the steps and the placement of his feet, and I count the music in my head.
One, two, three. One, two, three. My father used to count for me when he taught me to dance in the clinic on slow afternoons.
“You’re tense, Red.” Malric’s hand spreads across the small of my back. “You used to be looser around me.”
“That was the bite.”
He hums against my temple. “It was.”
He turns me, and the ballroom rotates around us in a slow blur of amber light and colorful silk and the hum of a hundred conversations. From somewhere on the perimeter, I feel eyes on me. The skin on the back of my neck prickles.
“Your prince is watching.”
I narrow my eyes against his shoulder. He knows I know, which means Draven told him. Why would Draven tell him?
I don’t look. “Don’t flatter yourself.”