CHAPTER 27 #3
Halfway down the hall, we caught sight of Gwinifer, her knee-high, glossy boots echoing against the polished stone floors.
Cerridwen called her name, and Gwin turned, her fighter stance striking as always.
She wore a long-sleeved, high-necked onyx dress that fit like armour.
The bodice hugged her frame, and the velvet skirt flared before skimming just past the tops of her boots.
A deep green cape hung from her shoulders, fastened with a metallic brooch. She looked every inch the battle mage.
“Do you know about Finnegan?” Cerridwen asked as we closed the distance.
“Late,” Gwinifer replied curtly, her gaze flicking toward two battle mages rushing past. The closer we got to the grand room, the more crowded the corridors became, a steady flow of citizens and staff weaving between us.
“And Caedmon?” I asked.
Gwinifer’s lips twitched, her tone dry. “No idea. Probably taking an extra-long bath because the Mage Lord cannot be bothered with things like punctuality. It must be beneath His Highness.”
I bit back a laugh, though the sharp wit in her voice was a welcome distraction.
At last, we passed through the towering double doors of the grand ballroom, and all humour fled me. My steps faltered, my mouth falling open.
The room, once solemn for the Citizens’ Audience, now resembled a space for a rite, a celebration, a ball.
The vaulted ceiling had vanished, replaced with a flawless night sky, with no clouds and filled with stars.
Lush garlands, shimmering with accents of metallic thread, floated impossibly above us, defying gravity.
Beneath the towering arched windows that lined the walls, guests mingled in clusters, their voices blending with the soft hum of music, a melody of delicate notes rising and falling.
Long tables adorned with glittering centrepieces stretched into the background.
People dressed in a dazzling array of flowing fabrics, shimmering velvet, and richly embroidered gowns.
Some wore dark robes, others vibrant hues—moss-greens and deep burgundies—all accented with jewels and relics that gleamed in the moonlight.
My eyes wandered over their features, taking in the diversity among them: sleek rabbit ears twitching in conversation, a fox’s tail swaying lazily, feathered wings folded neatly behind backs, and the gleam of crocodile scales catching the candlelight.
I scanned the crowd, my pulse quickening with each passing moment. The music thrummed around me, and my heartbeat seemed to match its rhythm.
“Good evening, Darling,” a voice drawled behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.
I turned, and there he was. He moved toward me, each step commanding attention without even trying. Heads turned as he passed, drawn to him as if he were the most impressive thing in the room. It wasn’t just that it was his birthday or the raw power he carried, but the effortless confidence.
His gaze swept over me, lingering on the dress that shimmered with every movement and the partial view of my thigh. Last, he took in the braid that framed my face, the intensity in his eyes enough to make my knees unsteady. When I smiled, his reverent gaze locked onto mine.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice slow and rich as he extended a hand toward me. “Stealing my beating heart.”
He was devastatingly handsome, dressed in a fitted black vest with details in velvet, over a white buttoned shirt that emphasised the broad shoulders, paired with tailored trousers.
His wind-tousled hair and casually rolled-up sleeves were a familiar sight.
He was sharp elegance and dangerous charm all at once.
I could almost forget the fight we had the day before.
“What heart?” I asked, my tone dry yet soft.
His responding grin was feral delight.
He leaned in, his head dipping so close that our noses almost brushed. His expression relaxed, the edges of his usual confidence melting into something far more intimate.
“Can I talk to you somewhere else?” he asked, his voice low and velvety.
“Where is your blazer?” Cerridwen’s voice cut in.
I startled, glancing at her and Gwinifer, who stood nearby, both watching us like hawks. I’d almost forgotten they were there.
Reagan turned his head, his smirk returning. “Got it stained, sadly,” he said. “You’ll just have to endure me like this.”
She pulled a face and waved him off dismissively. “I guess I do.”
Gwinifer merely nodded and strode away without a word. Reagan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned back to me and led us out of the ballroom, toward the staircase connected to the entrance foyer.
The high ceiling shone with the illusion of a clear black sky above us, mirroring the one outside and in the ballroom, greeting citizens upon their arrival. The noise faded as we walked to a more secluded alcove that would partially shield us from view.
“I didn’t see you today. Is everything all right?” I asked as we settled between the stone walls, near the entrance to the foyer.
The smile he gave me did nothing to hide the way his forehead creased.
“Some things needed to be dealt with, but it’s fine for now,” he said, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze intent on my face.
“I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was angry and frustrated, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. ”