I didn’t say anything. Icouldn’tsay anything.
Every look, every touch ever shared between Kilian and I turned to ash and sawdust. Our conversation last night… Was I just the latest mortal in a century-long string? A means to pass the time in an otherwise dreadfully boring immortal existence? I had known from the start that Kilian could not be interested in me beyond the short term. But I had to give him credit. He had played the part of dedicated instructor well. He had stared at me like he saw me. Had spoken to me like an equal. And touched me like he wanted me. He had manipulatedmeinto wantinghim. It was such a clever scheme, all to ensure that I did not run or refuse to participate in the Trials. So that his candidate tried her very best to pass the challenges, to make it to the Rite, and break his curse.
And then, when he regained his full power, he would have no further use for me. He would leave me discarded and wanting and ruined forever.
But not if I discarded him first.
I schooled my expression into one of abject neutrality. “Calendula. I’m feeling a bit strained from my training with Septimus this morning. Would you mind giving me a few moments of mortal privacy?”
“Of course,” the shadow sprite said, “I’ll come back again in a few hours, if that’s fine?”
“Perfect.” I feigned a yawn, stretching my back muscles out.
The sprite blended into shadow, disappearing completely. I didn’t know how she did that. It was like she became darkness itself, vanishing wholly.
As soon as she was gone, I stood. I rifled through my drawers, grabbing a new set of clothing before heading to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, my hair had been washed, and I no longer smelled like I had run five miles then trekkedup a mountain. I changed into a violet, corset-shaped leather cuirass and pants, foregoing my usual tunic, leaving only a fleece-lined long-sleeve beneath so I didn’t freeze to death when I stepped outside. Lacing up my boots, I decided to leave my dark hair unbound. The steam from the shower had curled the ends so that they just barely skimmed my waist.
I didn’t know where I was going. But I knew I was not going to sit around Valhan House, stewing on the fact that Kilian had played me like a fiddle. Even worse, that I had let him. He was elven. I had no one to blame but myself, for letting my emotions and hormones override logic and common sense.
I grabbed my cloak and pulled open the door, stepping into the hallway at the exact moment Lana stepped out of her room. I hadn’t seen her since our argument yesterday in the sparring room.
She scanned me from head to foot. “You look hot. Where are you going?”
“Out. Do you want to come?”
Lana’s eyes widened slightly. “Out where?”
“I don’t know.” I lifted my arms slightly. “Lomask is our oyster.”
She smiled. “Okay. Give me a second to change.”
Five minutes later, I was seated at the foot of Lana’s bed, watching as she swiped rouge over her cheeks.
“Where did you even get that?” I tilted my head toward the pink palette in her hand.
“I packed it before I left home. It was my mom’s.”
“Three elven arrived to kidnap you for the Mortal Trials and you brought makeup with you?”
Lana rolled her eyes. “It’s notjustmakeup, you insensitive ass. It’s sentimental. It reminds me of home. Now, close your eyes and let me put some on you.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine, Lana–” I started to protest, but she wouldn’t hear any of it.
“If we’re going out, you need blush,” was all she said as she patted the creamy formula on the apples of my cheeks and then rubbed some on her ring finger before applying it carefully to my lips. “All done,” she pronounced, stepping back to survey her handiwork.
I glanced at her work in the mirror above the small sink and, surprisingly, did not hate it.
“I think I know where we can go,” she said, stripping her own tunic off and rifling in her dresser. She pulled out a pastel blue piece that perfectly matched the shade of her eyes. A mischievous look glinted in them, and I couldn’t help but smile at her.
“Where?”
An hour later, we were seated in a raucous tavern. There were no windows in the space, only dim lighting and tables coated in glistening, sticky fluid. Elven sat on nearly every wooden bench, playing card games or drinking, or playing card gameswhiledrinking. Beautiful elven females perched on the laps of males, and all of them were either too drunk or engrossed in their games to pay attention to the two mortals who had just entered.
“How did you find this place?” I hissed at Lana as she sashayed up to the elven behind the bar. He was a stunning male, with sapphire eyes and shaggy brown hair that curled delicately around the pierced, pointed tips of his ears.
“Septimus showed it to me on one of our walks through the city,” she replied.
One of their walks? How many walks had there been? I cursed myself for not being a better friend and just asking her.
