Chapter 1
Chapter One
The dressing table mirror reflected chaos.
Not only Aurelise Rowanwood’s wide eyes and half-done hair, but the whirlwind that had overtaken Windsong Cottage in the hours before the Season’s Opening Ball.
Behind her, the reflection captured her mother’s hands fluttering like anxious birds over a tiny rent in the silk overlay of Aurelise’s gown, her sister Rosavyn sprawled across the small bed in defiance of all propriety, and Marta, her lady’s maid, rummaging through a jewelry case while muttering about pearl hairpins.
Through the open doorway, the mirror caught a flurry of activity in the sitting area.
Kazrian balanced on the low table, his hands outstretched toward the ceiling faelight as he attempted to coax it back to proper illumination, while their grandmother, Lady Rivenna, swept into view, admonishing him about the flagrant indecorum of standing on furniture.
She barely had time to duck as an errant spark of magic shot from Kazrian’s hand, narrowly missing her meticulously arranged silver hair.
“I did express my concerns about the lack of space here,” Lady Lelianna muttered, leaning closer to inspect her magical repair while drawing in her skirts as Marta passed with her newly discovered hairpins, the maid offering breathless apologies as she squeezed between Lady Lelianna and the crowded dressing table.
“Oh, nonsense,” Rosavyn replied from her horizontal position. “This is fun, Mother! All of us here together in this cozy little—”
A crash from the other side of the cottage interrupted her.
Several moments of silence followed as everyone paused.
Then Lady Nirella Brightcrest’s voice floated through the rooms. “Not to worry! That was merely the teapot meeting its unfortunate end. I shall brew a fresh pot in that lovely porcelain with the pink flowers instead.”
“Try the silver teapot with the lumyrite base,” Lady Rivenna called to her friend. “The lumyrite infuses that particular blend with more potency.”
The silver teapot. The one with the lumyrite base. Yes, she should focus on that, Aurelise told herself as she swallowed past the dryness in her throat. Not this crushing anxiety pressing against her chest.
Tonight. Stars above, it was actually tonight.
The Opening Ball of the Bloom Season had always been a grand affair, but this year promised to surpass all others.
With Dreamland—that miraculous piece of the dream realm brought into physical reality—finally restored and ready for visitors, the High Lady had delayed its grand opening specifically to coincide with tonight’s festivities.
The ball would take place within Dreamland itself.
The restoration had been Evryn and Mariselle’s project, of course. Mariselle with her dream magic and Evryn with his ability to shape the required lumyrite structure that powered the operation. It was still strange, at times, to think of the two of them together: a Rowanwood and a Brightcrest.
Just last Season, a union between the two families had been unthinkable.
They had maintained a very public hatred for generations.
Yet there Evryn had been, bound by what everyone believed to be a soulbond to Mariselle Brightcrest herself.
Only the family now knew the truth: the ‘soulbond’ had been a cleverly disguised magical contract, forcing them to work together on Dreamland’s restoration after the two of them had accidentally activated its long-forgotten magical clauses.
They’d managed to get Dreamland functional before last Season’s end, after which they’d launched into preparations for a wedding that had set every gossip bird in Bloomhaven chirping for weeks.
But there had still been much to accomplish before Dreamland was restored to the breathtaking wonderland of its legendary past. Now, after months of additional work, Dreamland stood ready to enchant all of society.
And every fae lord and lady whose magic had manifested within the last year would debut their new abilities within its impossible landscape tonight.
After the High Lady had made this decision, sending the news to every noble house a few weeks before the Season began, someone within the Rowanwood household had suggested they prepare for the ball at Windsong Cottage.
The idea had been rather sentimental—to dress for the grand night in the very place where the original Dreamland plans had been conceived.
Lady Nirella, Mariselle’s grandmother, had loved the notion, happily offering her cottage for the occasion.
Aurelise’s mother and grandmother, however, had been less enthusiastic about the practical challenges.
They’d compromised by having the elder Rowanwoods and Kazrian prepare at Rowanwood House before joining the sisters.
A complex enchantment had been required just to accommodate the preparations.
Jasvian had performed the intricate spell that transported both girls’ dressing tables directly from Rowanwood House into the cottage, with Aurelise’s fitting snugly in the bedroom and Rosavyn’s wedged against the window in the living area.
Despite this clever solution, the cottage’s intimate dimensions remained a challenge for readying two young ladies, especially when one was about to be the focus of every eye in fae society.
“Tea? Now?” Her mother’s voice, usually so gentle but now sharp with worry, brought Aurelise’s attention back to the present. “Who on earth requested refreshments at this critical hour?”
Aurelise took a breath. “I did.”
Lady Lelianna’s eyes met hers in the mirror, a perfect blend of concern and exasperation. “Aurelise, darling, now is hardly the moment for a leisurely tea service. We still have your final accessories to arrange, and—”
“It’s the serenity blend. I asked Grandmother to bring some. I thought it might … help.”
“But we’ve barely finished your hair, and your gown is—” Lady Lelianna gestured helplessly at the delicate layers of fine silk. “What if you spill? The High Lady will be scrutinizing every detail tonight.”
Rosavyn rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand. “Oh splendid, Mother. Remind her of the High Lady’s critical gaze. I’m certain that will settle her nerves far better than any tea could.”
Lady Lelianna pivoted toward her elder daughter with a soft huff.
“Rosavyn, for goodness’ sake! The way you’re draped across that bed, one might think you were auditioning for a fainting scene in a melodrama rather than preparing for the Season’s Opening Ball.
Do sit properly please, before you wrinkle your gown beyond the redemptive powers of even the best pressing spell. ”
“Fine, fine,” Rosavyn grumbled as she pushed herself upright and shifted to perch on the edge of the bed with exaggerated reluctance. “Though I fail to see why it matters when no one will be looking at me anyway. At least, not for the right reasons.”
The words were light, but Aurelise caught the underlying current. Her chest tightened.
“Mother.” Kazrian poked his dark head through the doorway. “Might I head on over to Dreamland? To see if—”
“Absolutely not!” Lady Lelianna’s laugh held a note of barely contained hysteria. “You cannot simply wander into a piece of the dream realm. And before the High Lady’s arrival! She would be most—”
“I meant the maintenance room,” Kazrian clarified, leaning against the doorframe.
“Where Mariselle is likely driving Evryn mad with unnecessary last-minute adjustments. I could offer my steady presence, perhaps remind them that everything is perfect, and suggest they join us for a moment before the chaos truly begins.”
Lady Lelianna pressed her fingertips to her temple. “As if this cottage needs additional bodies crammed into it.”
“The sitting room is practically empty,” Kazrian countered, gesturing behind him.
“Kazrian, dear.” His mother’s voice softened though her expression remained firm. “Your brother and sister-in-law do not need another distraction right now. Please keep your grandmother company until we’ve finished with Aurelise. It’s vital that she looks absolutely flawless tonight.”
Aurelise’s stomach knotted tighter at her mother’s words, while Kazrian’s shoulders slumped. “All right then,” he muttered with a sigh.
He disappeared, but not before Aurelise caught the flash of something raw in his eyes.
Kazrian should have been preparing for his own debut tonight.
They were twins, after all, born mere minutes apart.
All the signs suggested his magic would manifest any day now.
The restless energy, the way magical objects responded strangely in his presence, the occasional stray magic that escaped him at odd moments.
But ‘any day’ had not yet become ‘today,’ so while Aurelise would be presented to society tonight as Lady Aurelise, her twin would remain simply Master Kazrian, watching from the sidelines.
The unfairness of it sat like a stone in her stomach, made heavier still when she caught Rosavyn’s reflection in the vanity mirror.
Her older sister maintained her careless posture, but Aurelise knew better.
Rosavyn had passed her twentieth birthday months ago with still no sign of manifestation.
The gossip birds had barely waited for the Rowanwood carriages to stop before spreading their unpleasant screeches through Bloomhaven.
Two unmanifested Rowanwood children! Rowanwood bloodline weakening!
Aurelise had overheard her mother and grandmother speaking in hushed tones just yesterday. Would Rosavyn’s situation—and now Kazrian’s—reflect poorly on Aurelise? Would potential suitors wonder if the Rowanwood magic was truly failing? Would she be considered a less desirable match?