Chapter 52 Carwynn
CARWYNN
My thumb swirled over bare skin where the purple emergency Cherub eject button normally sat. I instantly regretted leaving it behind. Should’ve let the color clash with the dress. Though with my luck, Pudge would show up and instead of saving me, he’d add more fuel to the fire.
The Enbarr sped through the forest, its hooves beating the earth like a pointy-eared, fluffball pony in a derby.
Thank god for that . . .
I couldn’t handle the silent friction building in the carriage. For countless minutes, Pogue and Finley were locked in a staring contest. No winner yet, but I was sure I’d lose either way.
My throat cleared obnoxiously, projecting my thinning patience.
Finley reluctantly turned his head, his eyes met mine through the dimness. A small, apologetic smile pulled at his mouth. Slowly, he settled his hand on my exposed leg, thumb tracing soothing circles along my skin.
Across from us, Pogue tracked the movement. Face stone-cold. The very aura around him became a black hole, vacuuming out the light.
“Curious,” Pogue pressed, as if dipping a finger in to test the waters. “When did you two first meet, Carwynn?”
Finley’s hand tensed on my leg. I felt the muscles in his arm go taut too.
What an odd thing to ask. What the hell was he doing?
My skin prickled, a chill slithered down my spine as his words settled on my mind, foreboding. They seemed to ask so little, yet, say so much.
“He took my Human Studies course. So probably right after I—” I began.
“Moved back to the Ferie Realm,” Pogue finished, nodding as if he’d already heard the story.
“And I’m guessing within that first week?
He probably, what—asked you out, offered to pick you up from your house?
Or perhaps insisted on walking you home—being new to the realm and all, and he’s such a gentleman.
” Something sinister snaked hissed behind the words. “Am I right?”
I could only imagine what my face looked like, utter bewilderment tattooed all over it.
My eyes dragged to Finley, hoping to see some semblance of confusion mirroring my own. Instead, he’d gone rigid, drilling Pogue with a look that made me think he was one snap away from throttling him.
“I don’t understand,” I muttered with a mix of bemusement and something darker. “What’s this about?”
A strangling hush fell between us, tension misting around like a stale cologne. Finley and Pogue were two predators waiting for the other to flinch.
“Hey!” I snapped my fingers midair, trying to break whatever hypnosis they were both under. “What’s going on?”
The carriage jerked to a halt. A strong arm braced my shoulder, steadying me from flying forward.
Pogue’s hand lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, caressing my skin as he steadily retracted it.
My stomach tumbled as his eyes brushed the scars on my shoulder, an ember of fire lighting behind them.
“How lucky of you that Lochlainn’d have such a kind, honest cousin to walk you home each night.” Pogue’s branded me on the spot, words splashing up like acid. He shot a final look, then opened the door and left.
A hush fell, drowning me in my own thoughts.
What the hell just happened? Was I having an out-of-body experience? Unable to process. Unable to move.
“Carwynn,” Finley whispered, gentle but urgent.
My eyes fluttered, still trying to comprehend the whirlwind of this confusing, bizarre interaction. A sinking nausea started to roll in my gut.
“What the hell was he babbling about?” I asked, my voice hiding a slight tremble. Something was off. I could feel it.
Finley’s hand curled around mine. He surveyed me as if deciding what to say next.
“Please, ignore him. We had a bit of a run-in earlier today. Got a little heated.” He frowned, but his eyes pleaded. “I promise I’ll explain it later. Can we just—let it go for now?”
For a moment I hesitated, feeling the hollow words constrict around me. Wounds from the past instantly felt sore and began to sting.
I inhaled, swallowing them down.
I squeezed his hand. This was different—he was different.
You’re safe with me, Carwynn. Always. The memory of his words securely wrapped around me.
“Okay,” I said. “Later then.”
My inkling flickered, only slightly, like a candle catching a breeze, scattering shadows.
The Trefoil Castle was wholly transformed for the Fortuna Ball.
The front courtyard now shimmered with gorgeous, gilded fountains, each one spewing sparkling water that fanned out like liquid fireworks.
Orb lights floated overhead, illuminating the entire grounds, dotting the air like golden fireflies. It was simply mystical.
My anxiety melted into pure awe.
Billowing tents in every shade of the rainbow scattered across the grass. Guests popped in and out, exploring, laughing, reveling in the magic of it all.
I couldn’t stop the childlike smile that grew. It was like a casino, a carnival, and a masquerade met up for a wild threesome and birthed a . . . masinoval? Whatever it was, it was spectacular! My insides felt like a little kid kicking their feet in excitement.
Finley’s hand stayed fastened to mine as he guided me through a maze of poofy dresses and cigar-smoking suits.
We passed a silky, purple cone-shaped tent where smoky wisps danced out of the entrance as guests waited in a long line to get inside. A cloaked figure dealt cards over a velvet table. Psychic readings? Oooh, yes! Definitely coming back for that one.
Finley tugged me onward, bobbing past another tent.
This one, striped in gold and green with frilly ruffles on the sides.
A rich, meaty aroma made my mouth water.
Inside, slabs of marbled beef rotated over fire pits as butchers carved generous slices and twisted them onto sticks like savory lollipops.
That one . . . most definitely going to that one too.
The next tent, a glittery, dark navy with rhythmic music pulsing from within. Colorful orbs flashed over the fabric as dancers gyrated to the beat. A few Si brassers hovered in the air, hands stroking sensually down their bare backsides and breasts. Umm, yeah, we can skip that one.
Bypassing a few more oddities, we reached the wide base of a green marble staircase that led up to the castle entrance, and the ballroom beyond.
Guess it’s business first, play later. Bummer. My mouth was watering to suck down a huge meat lollipop—not like that.
Electric pins and needles of magic spread over my skin as we crossed over the main doors.
If the tent city outside was carnival paradise, the ballroom inside was a dream carved from elegance.
Towering marble pillars lined the perimeter, veined in shimmering gold.
The floor gleamed with intricate knotwork designs, golden patterns woven into polished stone like threads of a tapestry.
Circular tables filled the spaces behind the pillars.
The soft scuff of cards drifted through the air as guests rolled dice and plastered on their best poker face. Servers in sparkling dresses and dapper, glittering suits glided between groups, balancing steaming platters and towers of bubbly champagne flutes.
At the center, a wide-open space stretched up to the dais. Guests swayed in smooth steps, dancing to the charming symphony projecting from the musicians stationed off to the side.
The dais was empty. A lonely golden throne at its center.
Silent, regal, and waiting. Two wolves were carved into the arms, captured mid-lunge as if pouncing on the crowd.
The throne’s back spiraled upward in curling tree vines, branching out into glittering leaves.
The craftsmanship was breathtaking. The chair itself—magnificent, a living art form.
I froze in place, mouth slack as I tilted my head up to take it all in. Above me, the ceiling burst with color, explosions of radiant hues depicting Luckland’s legendary Scurboga Gates. A sweeping, translucent arch outstretched overhead, cascades of color poured like waterfalls from the heavens.
“Wow,” I breathed.
Finley’s hand slipped from mine as he peered down at me, beaming.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His gaze lifted, joining mine.
“There’s only one timeless beauty I see in this room,” a jovial voice interrupted.
The layers of my dress shifted as I spun.
David stood there smiling. So wide, it nearly reached his ears, hitting the creases of his eyes and causing his teeth to sparkle tenfold. Arms open, he swept me into an embrace.
My body moved on instinct, immediately wrapping my arms around him.
Home. His hugs always felt like home.
“You look absolutely bewitching, ma cherie,” David whispered, squeezing me harder—as if trying to pull my soul into his for safekeeping.
When he finally released me, his hands came up to cup my face.
“So much like your mother.” Unshed tears glistened as he studied me, holding that memory up to the light, comparing my picture to one long-gone.
He definitely had a few glasses of wine already, which wasn’t like him. Alcohol didn’t dull his Heartseer abilities, it sharpened them. Along with heightening any of his own emotions.
The impending Eostre Trials must’ve been weighing on him. Though, my most recent monster encounter could’ve been the culprit, causing Wyatt to prescribe him aged vinos to treat his hypertension.
Oh, this will be fun . . .
“Let’s not repeat the prom incident,” Wyatt cut in with a chuckle. He planted a soft kiss to my cheek. “Stunning as always, Carwynn,” he added, winking.
David threw him a side-eye and scoffed.
Around us, I noticed curious eyes studying the two Lovelanders. Some with intrigue—others looking more desirous.
I cringed. Ew. Lovelanders and their magical allure . . .
Returning my attention to Wyatt, I couldn’t help but laugh.