Chapter 49
forty-nine
. . .
Ever
Before we reach the Tower, Kyra bolts out to greet us, two startled Warriors pretending not to follow after her.
“Come on, we need to get ready.” She gestures for us to rush. “You too, Ten.”
“Slow down. What’s happening?” I look around, checking the Warriors for weapons, but they aren’t drawn, and they don’t show any haste themselves.
“The Orders have called an emergency meeting. All Chamber members and relatives.” She nods at Ten, and we look at one another before moving to follow her inside, my stomach turning in knots with the apprehension of what this might mean.
This was coming. It had to. But we don’t know what they are going to decide.
Kyra stops in the long hallway before she takes us through the maze of corridors leading to Ten’s apartments.
She holds up her finger, as if to say one more thing, but I already know what she’s going to say.
“I’ve got you a dress. More… in keeping with your style.
” She wiggles her brows at me in a very childlike gesture and—for a second—everything in our past fades away, and we’re just two friends, getting ready for a gathering.
She’s still here, doing these things for me off her own back. She’s not left me.
“Is Lyle coming this time?” I ask. “You’ll be there, again?”
“Not officially. You, Ever, aren’t technically invited.” Her eyes dart between us. “The Maker invited you, though.”
This is it. This is the opportunity. The time to make them all see how things need to change.
“We have to go. But, yes, Lyle is coming with us this time.” The apprehension morphs into hope, a faint flicker that scares me.
The Maker has set this in motion for a purpose; she must have.
She knows all, apparently. She doesn’t leave things to chance, so I grip hold of that and take her knowledge, her manoeuvring, as a source of strength. “Ten?”
“No fucking way you’re doing this alone. I’m in. Bring Lyle. Kyra?”
“I’ll be there. Come on. I didn’t know where you were, or I’d have told you earlier.” She starts to race-walk towards the apartments. “You have a plan, right?”
“Umm… for you to put me in something appropriate. That’s as far as I’ve got. I’ll work on it.”
Kyra takes us right to Ten’s apartment. “Ten, your parents have already left.”
He looks at Kyra, and I can’t read the expression on his face, but I do see the tensing of his jaw.
“I’ll get ready. Where did you—”
“I set Ever up in a guest bedroom. Rigel pointed me in the right direction.”
The pressure of his hand around mine intensifies.
“Fine. I’ll wait for you here.” But he doesn’t let my hand go.
“Ten?” I tug on his grip, and I coax a smile from my lips to reassure him.
Kyra leads the way, and we follow along to the other side of the apartment, through into a small, elegantly appointed room.
Hanging against the wardrobe is a black dress.
It’s not flowery or pretty or anything like the gown she first dressed me in for the dinner at The Great Hall.
It’s sleek and glistens with all the colours of the Orders.
More than that. All the colours I’ve ever seen.
“It’s beautiful.” I step forward to touch it, to make sure it’s real.
“It’s more appropriate, I think. A mark of respect for Kalan, but I wanted you to have something that showed how fierce you are, too. That’s what you are, Ever. You are fierce.”
My throat constricts, and my eyes sting with tears. But they don’t fall. “Kyra, you don’t… have to be here.” The guilt claws at my chest, digging in deeper with every breath I take.
“Shush. I’m right where I need to be. You are not facing them in training gear and boots.”
My eyes close for a second before I open them to her again. “I thought you loved my boots.” I make the joke, forcing us back to the safe territory. “Besides, I won’t be alone this time. You’ll be there. Lyle and Ten, too.”
“And Calix and Capella. You aren’t alone in this, Ever. Believe that.”
My heart swells at her words, and I realise that even after today, seeing the graves of my parents and adding to the gravity of that place, I’m still standing, with people around me.
“Come on. You need to be in this dress and at that meeting.”
I keep the doubt that this dress will be too much for a meeting to myself.
After last time, I won’t question Kyra again.
She helps me into the material, which has a high neck, and hides the scar at the base of my throat.
The sleeves are capped, almost like armour, and cover my arms. It slips over my skin, and I feel both safe and confident in this dress.
“Ready?” She fusses with my curls, carefully picking a few of them away from my face and pinning them. Her fingers are as nimble as always, the ritual of not touching still in place even without my magic.
“I am. Where’s Lyle? She knows, right?”
“Yes. She’s waiting for us at the Tower. She’ll be there.” Kyra’s smile is reassuring, and it nearly breaks me.
Ten’s wearing a white shirt. No colour or embroidered threads signalling his Order.
Stars, he looks good. But it’s a stark reminder of what I’ve cost him.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve only been in Kirrasia a short time.
I know your Order is more than just a signal of your ability or magic.
The whole construct of your life is built around it.
Ten’s eyes warm when he looks at me, and he makes no disguise of travelling up and down my body. “Ready?” he checks.
“Sure.” I wish we could just be a boy and a girl for the rest of the night, but I doubt that’s what we’ll face.
“You know, it would be really fucking nice if I could take you out, with you in a dress, and not be on edge for the whole of the night.”
“What do you mean?” My brows draw together at his choice of words.
“You don’t have the best luck when you wear a dress, Little Siren. Something always goes to shit.”
For a second, we just stare at each other before we both break into a crack of laughter. Maybe it’s the apprehension of what will come next, or how ridiculous it is that he’s right.
“You two okay?” Kyra checks.
“We’re fine. Come on. We have a meeting to crash.”
Lyle is waiting at the bottom of the spiral stairs leading to the Great Hall.
She’s changed into something… smart. A fitted outfit, with a raised collar and wide-leg trousers.
Her blonde hair is swept back and tidy. Her face doesn’t break into the joyful expression of when she first saw me in a dress, and I hope that we might again reach that point again where she looks at me without the strain of worry in her eyes.
There are so many similarities to my first time here, but this place is ruined for me. The wonder I first saw here—the wonder of magic—is gone—just like my own.
Ten said he’d face any future, as long as I was with him, but does that mean facing one alone? Without his friends and family?
My breath catches in my chest as I try to grapple with the path before me. None of what has happened should be on me, but it’s fallen that way. I can’t change that, but I’ll be damned if I let it dictate the rest of my life. Once I’ve said my piece…
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Kyra asks.
“Sorry, what?” We’ve made it up the stairs without me really acknowledging.
“To the Orders. Do you know what you’re going to say?”
“One step at a time.” My lips twitch, not able to pull into a smile for her.
She slips away, and Lyle pushes the wooden doors open, signalling our arrival.
The room drops to hushed whispers as we enter, our presence silencing the conversations one by one. I immediately search out Calix and Capella in the gathered crowd, wanting to find the reassurance that they are here.
Everyone is staring at me. At Ten. Hand in hand.
“Lyle?” I turn and check, and she’s on my left.
I lift my chest and force my head up. “Good evening.”
General Aster and Perrin give a small nod towards me. Maybe I’ll have more allies than I first thought.
The room isn’t set for dinner. Instead, the four chairs from the dais are arranged in a circle in the centre of the room, presumably for each Head of the Order.
“What is she doing here?” Orion Ciro’s voice carries to us from his position. The people around him part, like wind blowing through the long grass, as he challenges us.
“She is a guest,” Ten defends.
“She is not a guest of ours any longer. She does not belong here.” His eyes narrow, and his face begins to redden. Good to see his hostility hasn’t changed, given the sacrifice and actions I’ve made for his precious Kirrasia.
“Orion, please.” Celestine tries to pull his focus, but his eyes bore into me, as if I have personally seen to the undoing of Kirrasia, and he is innocent of all crimes. Orion pulls away from his wife and sulks back to his spot in the centre of the room.
As we walk farther in, I look at the members gathered, second-guessing what they intend to do here.
“She’s not here,” I whisper to Ten, leaning in against him as I do. “The Maker isn’t here.” She must be. Why would she invite me and not be here herself?
“If we’ve had enough of the interruptions, we have business to discuss.” Orion’s voice booms over the din.
Ten weaves us through the people until we stand on the perimeter of the circle of chairs and see Darien, Portia, as well as Aurelia and Nova gathered. All the custodians. All the Orders.
“The Warriors will stay,” Orion proclaims. “They will increase the perimeter defences. Help the rebuilding process. We have taken the insurgents into custody. Many Kirrians have fled, but they must be stopped. We cannot let their poison spread.
“Darien, Portia, we need your support.”
“We are happy to, but disagree with your priorities, Orion. We must look to heal first,” Darien states, and I think it’s the first time I’ve heard him speak.
“We were attacked!” Orion yells. “And you all doubted me. I know this. I know what you all thought!”
He’s spouting the same elitism that caused this all in the first place.