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 immediatelysearch 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 isshedoing 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 hispreciousKirrasia.
“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.
