“They’re all just jealous they didn’t have your guts to wear gems during the Vargothi,” he commented. I could feel him staring at me as I glanced around the room again.
I was the only one in a beaded gown. In fact, most people weren’t even wearing jewelry. Their dresses were beautiful, full of lace and frills, but simple. Just various materials sewn on top of more material.
I looked down at my dress. “Is it against the rules?” I hadn’t realized it before, but the stark contrast to what I was wearing compared to everyone else was startling.
“Tomorrow it will be, but nah, not the first two days. No one wears them because they’re all just terrified that a dragon might actually show up.”
“What do you mean? What’s my dress have to do with dragons?”
“They love to eat glisinil, and while you look nothing like the fish they hunt in the Triovian, you sure as hell stand out as much.”
“Glis-lin-what?”
“Glisinils. They’re some of the largest fish in the ocean, and their scales are known to sparkle against the suns—likediamonds.”
“Great,” I said, as I realized Bran picked out my dresses for the tournament. “So everyone knows that I’ve been dressing up like a dragon’s snack this whole time except for me?”
“Pretty much,” he smirked. “But you’re not the snack. Glisinils are rare and dragons go fucking feral for them. Which is why when theysee pretty things that sparkle, they tend to eat first and think later.” He smiled at the pure mortification flashing across my face.
I was going to murder Bran.
I hada drink in my hand that I was nursing—which really meant I took one sip before deciding I was going to pretend to drink it. It was bitter. I’d never had alcohol before—I was too young in Moriann to even think about drinking before I made my deal with Dahes.
I quickly realized I wasn’t missing out. I had no idea why everyone here was so obsessive about it, because as I scanned the crowded room, it was all I could see. People drowning in their drinks while the servants kept refilling cup after cup.
I stayed toward the perimeter of the room, trying to not draw attention to myself, which was another reason I wanted to kill Bran—it was impossible. Everyone was glaring at me. No matter how hard I tried to keep to the shadows, my dress caught every fraction of light, displaying my naivety across the room. I didn’t understand the rules, and it was obvious.
I huffed, pretending to take another fake sip of my drink just to blend in.
“Wine in Soffikane tastes like shit,” a deep voice sounded from behind me.
I whirled, coming face to face with pale brown eyes. They were the only soft feature about him—the coloring—which bordered on hazel depending on the lighting, and right now specks of soft green and gold were dancing along with the brown.
“This back and forth of ignoring me, then not, is giving me whiplash,” I drawled.
“After watching you nurse the same glass of wine for the past hour, I figured you needed to know,” Arrik said.
“As opposed to what then?” I arched my brow, trying to ignore the flutters in my stomach at his admittance to watching me.
Get a grip, Magnolia. He was probably only doing it because Elion put him up to it, not because he finds you attractive.
Suns, why didhehave to be so freaking attractive?
Arrik held my stare. “Ryaranthia. The Third Province has fields that harvest the vines to make them fresh. It’s the only good place for wine. When you’re in First Province, only drink the ales, and if you’re in the Grigg, drink the mead.”
“What, no facts for Inyaerille?” I asked, crossing my arms, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. “After all, you want me to go there.”
“Fourth Province is lucky to getanyimported alcohol.”
I huffed. It really was the same as Moriann.
“Noted,” I mumbled as I tried to walk past him, but he moved in front of me, blocking my exit. We were toward the back corner of the room, standing under the painting of the black dragon. Most of the crowd was gathered around the large floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Dome, giving us a false sense of seclusion.
I tried to steady my breathing as he leaned down and whispered, “I told you to run.”
“Also noted,” I drawled, keeping my tone neutral. “You reminded me earlier on the balcony.”
He eyed me, not backing out of my space. “And I meant it.”
