Chapter 55 Dance Without Music
(Because Your Villain Is Secretly Sentimental)
Arabella
I slammed another tome onto the growing pile, earning a withering look from Magister Vellum.
“Lady Blackrose.” His voice scraped like parchment being torn. “The books are not your enemies.”
“They’re not being particularly helpful, either.” I glared at the stack of texts on ritual magic, blood ceremonies, and theoretical ley line manipulation. Two days of research, and I was no closer to understanding how to convince seventy-eight people to willingly bleed for us.
Vellum’s enormous spectacles caught the library’s orblight as he turned away. “Perhaps if you specified your exact needs—”
“I need a miracle.” I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. “Or at least a compelling argument for why our houseguests should trust us with their blood when half of them are still demanding to know why they woke up in our guest quarters.”
That was Kazimir’s fault. His brilliant plan to enchant half of Valmont into unconsciousness had worked perfectly—right up until they’d woken up separated from their families and extremely pissed off. Janos Torok had tried to challenge three different people to duels in the last hour alone.
“The section on persuasive magics is in aisle seventeen,” Vellum offered, already gliding away between the shelves.
I gathered more relevant texts—carefully, because Vellum was still watching—and made my way toward the lightning bridge.
On the other side, the corridors were chaos.
Children raced past, chasing one of Nyx’s shed scales that an unnatural wind was blowing around the room.
Lady Delacroix’s son had discovered the echo in the west hall and was testing its limits with increasingly creative profanity.
And somewhere in the distance, I could hear Griffin explaining to someone why they absolutely could not borrow the explosive devices from his laboratory.
“Lady Blackrose!” A harried-looking woman intercepted me—Lady Clearwater, I thought, though keeping track of everyone was becoming impossible. “My sister is allergic to the sheets in our quarters, and that dragon of yours ate Ferdinand!”
“Ferdinand?”
“Our rooster!”
Right. The demon rooster from Meridian Isle. Oh no… How terrible of Nyx. I’d need to give her an extra treat tonight before bed. “I’ll look into it.”
She huffed off, and I continued toward the Great Hall, where Vex had promised to help me sort through accommodation complaints before I met with Kazimir to take the books to the dungeons.
The hall was suspiciously empty when I arrived. No arguing nobles, no children attempting to climb the columns to reach the chandelier, no sign of the usual chaos that had defined the last two days.
“Vex?” I called, setting the books on a side table. “If you’ve finally snapped and murdered them all, I need to know where you’ve hidden the bodies.”
Movement in the shadows by the main doors. I reached for my magic, ready to defend myself—
“SURPRISE!”
The lights blazed to life, revealing Vex, Griffin, Thorne, Sebastian, and—impossibly—Kazimir, all grinning at me like idiots.
Well, Thorne was doing his version of grinning, which looked more like mild constipation.
A banner hung across the far wall reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” in Griffin’s handwriting, complete with small explosions drawn around the edges.
And there, curled beside the feast table, was Nyx. A ridiculously large bow—bright pink to match her scales—had been tied around her neck. She lifted her head, silver eyes gleaming with what I could swear was amusement.
I stood frozen, trying to process what I was seeing. “What—”
“It’s your birthday!” Sebastian bounced forward. “Your twenty-fifth! Did you really think we’d let that pass without celebration?”
“Um.” I’d honestly forgotten. Between the invasion, the kidnappings, the Syndicate coup, and everything else, the date had completely slipped my mind. “How did you even know?”
“I told them.” Sebastian looked pleased with himself. “Well, I told Vex and Griffin, and they told everyone else. We’ve been planning this for weeks, since before leaving for the God Spire!”
Nyx rumbled a low, contented sound like distant thunder, and I felt her presence brush against my mind. Surprise, the feeling seemed to say, tinged with satisfaction.
“Weeks,” I repeated, looking at Kazimir. “You knew about this?”
He shrugged, but I caught the slight smile tugging at his lips. “Vex presented it as an urgent matter. Threatened me with creative dismemberment if I ruined the surprise, actually.”
“We thought you could use a break,” Vex added, moving to guide me toward the table they’d set up. “An hour or two where we pretend the world isn’t ending and celebrate the fact that you’ve survived a year of spectacular danger.”
“Even Nyx helped,” Griffin added proudly. “She only ate two of the decorative arrangements! And she let us put the bow on her without setting anything on fire.”
The dragon snorted, a puff of smoke escaping her nostrils as if to say she’d been extraordinarily patient with their nonsense.
The table was laden with food—not the formal feast fare we’d been serving our guests, but comfort foods. Roasted meats, fresh bread, potatoes, fruits that weren’t in season but Griffin had grown in the greenhouses under magical conditions, and in the center…
“A cake?” I stared at the magnificent creation—three tiers of chocolate, decorated with sugar flowers that bloomed and withered in an endless cycle.
“I made it!” Sebastian beamed. “Each layer tastes like your favorite dessert from a different period of your life.”
“Childhood, adolescence, and now,” Griffin added helpfully. “I helped with the temporal taste enchantments!”
“You helped by nearly setting the kitchen on fire,” Thorne rumbled. “Twice.”
“The second time was intentional! For the flambé!”
Nyx snorted, her tail swishing across the floor.
I sank into a chair, overwhelmed. After days of being Lady Blackrose, the Dark Lord’s wife, the mediator, the researcher, the woman trying to save the world—they’d given me this. A moment to just be Arabella. “I don’t know what to say.”
“ ‘Thank you’ is traditional,” Kazimir murmured, taking the seat beside me and draping his arm over the back of my chair. “Though ‘you’re all insane’ would also be appropriate.”
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. “You’re all insane.”
Nyx came over to rest her massive head on my lap. The pink bow was even more ridiculous up close, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I stroked her snout.
“Now that’s settled,” Vex said, producing a bottle of wine from Kazimir’s private collection, “let’s eat before some crisis drags us away.”
The next hour was perfect. No one mentioned bloodlines, ley lines, or impending doom.
Instead, Griffin regaled us with stories of his explosive failures before he came to Skyspire.
Thorne demonstrated his party trick of bending spoons with his literally steel spine—it required odd contortionist movements that I was still doubting hours later.
Sebastian made flowers bloom along the table’s edge every time he laughed.
Nyx contributed by stealing entire roasted chickens when she thought no one was looking, though we all pretended not to notice. At one point, she and Griffin engaged in what could only be described as a staring contest over the last honey-glazed ham. Griffin lost.
Even Kazimir relaxed, the tension that had been riding him for days easing as he watched me open presents.
Vex gave me a set of throwing knives (“For when magic just won’t do”).
Griffin presented me with a self-warming cloak that definitely wouldn’t explode (“I’m seventy percent certain!
”). Thorne’s gift was practical—a leather journal warded against magical interference, perfect for keeping notes on our research.
Nyx, not to be outdone, disappeared briefly and returned dragging something that clinked. She deposited it at my feet with obvious pride—a small chest filled with various shiny objects she’d been hoarding. Coins, jeweled buttons, what looked suspiciously like Lord Saltieri’s missing cufflinks, and…
“Is that my hairpin?” Vex asked, reaching for a silver piece.
Nyx’s tail swept it back into the pile, her eyes narrowing. Apparently, once gifted to me, there were no take-backs no matter their origin.
Sebastian gave me a pressed flower in a crystal frame. “From your mother’s garden,” he said quietly. “I saved it years ago and had my father send it. Thought you might want something to remember the good times.”
I had to blink away tears at that one.
“And this,” Kazimir said, producing a small black box, “is from me.”
Inside was a ring—not strange and macabre like our wedding bands, but a simple band of dark metal set with a black moonstone.
The stone appeared nearly opaque at first glance, dark as a starless night.
But when I tilted it, flashes of blue fire and silver streaks suddenly flared across its surface.
The effect was subtle, intimate—beauty that only revealed itself to those paying close attention.
His signet—black roses wrapped around a bleeding sword—was etched into the band. But it had been altered. The roses alternated between gold and black when I tilted it back and forth. Black for Kaz, gold for me.
“I figured the family crest could use an update. It’s connected to mine.
” He showed me an identical band on his right hand.
“When you’re feeling something strongly about me, mine warms. When I’m feeling something about you, yours does the same.
Sentiment rings.” A wry smile. “Fair warning—I have no idea how to turn it off.”
“Kaz.” I slipped it onto my finger, feeling the magic settle against my skin. “It’s beautiful.”
“Useful,” he corrected, but his eyes were soft. “Beautiful is just a bonus.”
“Like you, then,” I said without thinking, then felt heat flood my cheeks as everyone laughed.
Nyx rumbled her amusement, nudging me with her snout.
“Smooth, my lady,” Sebastian teased. “Very smooth.”