30. Nahomie
Nahomie
I brushed my hands down the length of my gown.
I almost didn’t recognize the angel in the mirror looking back at me.
Stars. Saundeiah had outdone herself. My ears twitched with the chatter of excitement buzzing through the manor as angels from most of the Twelve Ranks poured in.
In hours the Gargorètti had spread word of the masquerade throughout Mortevain.
How the gargoyles had managed such a feat, I would probably never know.
The response of attendance was overwhelming.
There would be Angelkind, Shifterkind, and Faekind present.
Several of the Merkind, from their homes beneath the Ouanaviel Sea’s surface, politely declined.
It was too short a notice for them to leave their homes at the bottom of the sea, but they would send gifts out of gratitude for the invitation from their king.
I was baffled by how diverse Mortevain Island was.
Now, the voices of those attending carried through the walls, the vents, and down into the lair.
“Saundeiah,” I breathed. I was speechless. The work of art she’d created with my hair, my gown, and even my cosmetics was masterful.
“You’re a vision of Pasaille and her Ellelights themselves,” Saundeiah whispered, smiling at me in the mirror.
Her diaphanous hands pinned the final braid in place.
She’d fashioned my hair in this beautiful, intricate style that looked like a waterfall of vines entwined with my gold beads throughout every strand as they fell down my spine in a braided river.
She’d meticulously fashioned tiny jewels between each, making the style look alight with lavender starlight.
“Roièssa Clarèssa would be beside herself if she could see you in this gown. She had it tailored for whoever would be Roi Tassarion’s wingmate one dawn.
It’s fate you only need a few tweaks for it to fit like a glove.
And it’s the perfect color for festivities.
For anything that spills. Whether wine or blood. ”
Saundeiah snorted, and I burst into an outright cackle.
“Listen, I fully plan on making sure Tassarion sheds no blood this twinight. No matter how difficult a feat that will be for him.”
Saundeiah laughed behind her ghostly palm, shaking her head.
“I don’t think our Roi can avoid it. Not with so many across Mortevain attending the masquerade.” Her eyes danced. “That doesn’t matter, though. You are dressed perfectly for this twinight.”
I refused to cry. Not after Nadege had taken stars knew how long to decorate my face with kohl, a rouge stain on my lips and shimmers of glitter across my cheeks.
Every Nanmiess had begged me to let a measure of my blackfire seep through my skin.
It would enhance the look, they said. So I listened.
Lavender blackfire snaked through my skin down the length of my face in mosaic cracks like a geometric pattern as lavender fire coated my mahogany skin.
And the gown.
Holy Infinite.
I leisurely took in the fitted corset with the bodice shrouded in onyx floral embroidery, as dainty lace sleeves clung to my shoulders.
The lace covered the length of my arms, ending in billowing sleeves that tumbled to the floor.
A highly detailed design of erupting sparks was woven into the gown, rushing upward like trails of blackfire coursing through the corset.
Sinching my waist, the corset blended into a skirt that clung to every inch of my skin tightly down the length of my legs.
The rest of the skirt’s cape billowed out to the floor like a black veil resembling a waterfall of black diamonds.
An infinite amount of ebony jewels glittered along the plumes of the gown, interspersed with lavender jewels as obsidian and gilded florals cascaded down the fabric.
To finish it all off, Saundeiah clasped a collar with matching florals and jewels around my neck that covered the stretch of skin like an upside-down crown.
“Saundeiah.”
If only Manmi could see me in this. Papi.
My eyes pricked with tears.
“No tears.” She brushed a gentle hand across my cheek. “It is an honor to dress you in the way our only queen, Roièssa Clarèssa, would see fit for an evening like this.”
I tilted my head back, fighting for all the good in life to keep my tears from falling.
Fanning my face, I swallowed my emotions. I looked at myself in the mirror, filled with endless pride. Stars. I could not wait to see Tassarion’s reaction.
“You could see it now if you hadn’t kicked me out of our lair, Emélie.”
I giggled down the bond.
“Seeing your reaction in front of everyone else will be more satisfying.”
“Beautiful and vain.”
I grinned.
“Beautiful, vain, and yours.”
A flurry of souls brushed along our bond like a caress to my spirit.
It was like feeling him stand behind me before wrapping me in his arms. I leaned into the ethereal embrace, relishing his touch.
I sent my caress of blackfire down the bond, which resulted in him growling back with profound need.
My cheeks flushed. It was going to be a long twinight getting him to behave.
“Long,” he snarled across the bond.
I burst out laughing before clapping a hand over my mouth.
Saundeiah watched me with a twinkle in her luminescent eyes.
“I take it His Majesty is ready for you to make your way to the ballroom.”
I giggled. “Quite.”
Saundeiah smiled sweetly.
“Well, let’s be off then.”
I floated into the hall with my Nanmiess in tow and found the gargoyles waiting. Coralai lit up with Gargorètti pride, her amber eyes glowing. The gargoyle opened her palm to me, about to take my hand in hers.
“No. I should like to do the honors.”
I turned and found Obsidian near the threshold of Tassarion and I’s lair, his eyes shining and wet. Had he... but it couldn’t be. Had the gargoyle been crying?
“Obi?” I whispered, calling him the pet name Tassarion used for him.
At the sound of the nickname, a tear snaked its way down the gargoyle’s cheek.
“Long have we waited for a Roièssa.” His amber eyes blazed with a certainty that made my hearts stutter. “Proud are we that our Roièssa is you.”
Rot. Now it was my turn to fight tears. It wasn’t his first time referring to me as his queen.
It was, however, the first time I was called by my title, and I actually wore it as if it was mine.
Like a second skin. I wasn’t just the Phantimèssa of Edenael anymore. I was the Roièssa of Mortevain Island.
I walked to Obsidian.
“Will you be my escort then, my friend?”
The leviathan of a gargoyle bowed low before rising again and taking my hands in his.
“It would be the honor of my life, Roièssa Nahomie.”
Saundeiah finished lacing my mask onto my face.
I took Obsidian’s hand, and we started making our way to the ballroom.
As we navigated the halls of the manor, the rushing sound of excitable voices warmed me.
It had been centuries since the angels of Mortevain had been back to Everthorn Manor.
I threw up a silent prayer to the Infinite that nothing would go wrong.
This was my first attempt at bridging the divide between the islanders and their king. I could only hope it would work.
When we all reached the outside of the closed doors to the ballroom, my chest tightened.
This was a monumental moment. Once I waltzed through those doors, I couldn’t go back.
I’d only been thinking about the festivities and what that would mean for Tassarion.
I’d completely forgotten that this would also be his chance to publicly announce that Mortevain now had a Roièssa, and that their new queen was me.
I stumbled back from the doors. I could feel the beginnings of hyperventilation kicking in.
Obsidian gripped my hand and looked at me reassuringly.
“We do not deserve you, Nahomie. But we will be grateful to have you.”
He blinked bright, glowing eyes at me.
“Fear not, Roièssa. They will love you. Besides, it’s too late to run. We’ve already made up our minds. We are going to keep you.”
I snorted, covering my mouth to stifle a chortle. This Gargorètti was just like Tassarion.
How long ago was it when Tassarion said those same words to me when we first met?
I grabbed hold of my nerves and swallowed.
“You’re right. The time has come. Let’s go now before I become a Phantimèssa and take off.”
The Gargorètti behind me laughed.
I turned and found that every gargoyle in the manor was behind me, shoulders squared with pride.
I didn’t know them all yet, but in the dawns to come I would remedy that.
Few things in life could compare to what I felt seeing their joy in standing behind me like the protective guards they were. They were my shields. Friends. Family.
I smiled at our gargoyles. They all reverently bowed their heads to me.
I turned, squeezing Obsidian’s hand before releasing it.
With elegant strides, I made my way up the grand staircase.
As the gargoyles followed in tow, circled by the Nanmiess who were now trailed by the Esprit of the manor, the doors of the ballroom flung open on their own volition.
Immediately all voices in the ballroom fell silent. Audible gasps erupted across the ballroom when the angels, shifters, fae, and other attendants looked up and found my presence at the top of the stairs. I trembled before the scrutiny. The praise. The judgment of whether I was worth all this fuss.
I shook it off.
I didn’t care what any of these greedy leeches thought.
I wasn’t here for any of them. Hadn’t gone to great lengths, stressing out the Nanmiess and Esprit to decorate this ballroom to absolute perfection all dawn, for any of them.
I hadn’t gotten into this gloriously beautiful yet insufferably complex gown for them. All of this was for one angel alone.
I scanned the ballroom hunting for eyes of steel.
A face covered in a patchwork of stitches and scars that had become the visual of safety and home for me.
It wasn’t long before the thread of our bond pointed me to his exact location.
I was on the dais at the ballroom’s entrance.
My wingmate floated on the dais opposite, his eyes piercing into me as if he’d been given a glimpse of Pasaille and he was frozen in wondrous awe.
Obsidian lifted his head. The gargoyle stood to his full height, his long tail dragging behind him. His heavy foot stomps shook the dais, yet I was rooted, anchored by eyes of a tempestuous sky that trapped me in its storm.
“Presenting the Seraphim from Edenael. The carrier of Holy Fire. Beauty of our isle. Jewel of our kingdom. Nahomie Emélie...”
Obsidian paused for dramatic effect. Tassarion’s eyes were glittering. He possessed me with a fierce stare, ready to declare to his entire kingdom that I was his. And that he was mine.
“Everthorn.”
Gasps broke out across the ballroom. The Mortevainyen citizens lifted their hands to their mouths, shocked at the sound of the surname.
“Roièssa of Mortevain Island.”
An explosion of starlight cascaded over the ballroom as Obsidian finished his declaration. Every Gargorètti, Nanmiess, and Esprit waltzed into the hall and passed me like a small army. When they reached the floor, they bowed to their knees.
Tassarion started walking towards me then, descending step after step, deliberately slow as his six wing pairs dragged behind him like a black veil running over rippling water. The ballroom was deathly silent as the Angelkind, Shifterkind, and Faekind watched him.
Tassarion crossed down the middle of the ballroom floor. He walked down the length of our manor attendants and stopped at the base of the staircase I was perched on. Then my king, my wingmate, my other half grinned, his facial stitches stretching with his knitted skin.
“My Vainyen Everheart,” he rumbled. Commanding. Possessive.
I shook at his claim of me in front of the islanders.
Then the King of Mortevain bent down on both his knees and lowered himself in a bow.