Page 58 of Wicked Endeavors

NOELIA HAD BEEN RIGHT ABOUT THE CLOSING BALL.

It was a generic night of dancing and food, only noteworthy for taking place outside rather than at a specific House and for lacking any guests who wore anything but House colors. The new witches were taken away to receive their coven marks, and they returned to the ball when it was halfway over. Marisol politely applauded with the rest of the crowd, but it didn’t take her long to wish that she’d skipped the event entirely. There was nothing interesting about a new generation of witches coming into their powers. The only interesting thing was the looks that Bas kept throwing her across the room, which made her cheeks heat and her eyes roam for anything and anyone else to look at.

It felt as if there was a conversation that they had to have, but they had said all that needed to be said in the washroom. The kiss had been a heated mistake. Their history was too tangled and painful for anything new to grow. Bas’s priority was Teo, and Marisol’s priority was gutting them both. Nothing had changed.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe it would feel true.

Two days after the closing ball, an invitation arrived in the mail. The cream-colored card had the prince’s seal on it, with midnight calligraphy that listed a date and time above the following:

All witches are invited to join Prince Tomás Castellan at Cloverdale Hall for a second, unified closing ceremony. This year’s Coronet has been illuminating, and the prince wishes to celebrate a new and more promising era with his honored guests before his return to Estrellad.

Refreshments will be provided.

RSVP.

Marisol read the card several times, growing increasingly confused. Teo hadn’t told her about hosting a party. In fact, he had seemed withdrawn at the closing ball, which she had taken for frustration that they still didn’t have the final plant in hand. Was he offering a massive distraction to empty House Muerte for her? Or was she expected to attend this, too?

She returned her RSVP with a request to meet, but she received no response.

Marisol arrived at Cloverdale an hour before the start of the ceremony. The servants led her to the sitting room, and the prince entered ten minutes later. He took a chair on the other side of the coffee table, dressed in nothing but a loose tunic and breeches, as if she’d caught him in the middle of getting ready.

“You look lovely, as always,” he said, giving her a once-over.

Marisol, with her hair styled into an Afro puff bubble ponytail and dressed in a plum-colored gown that matched her lipstick, tried not to preen. “Thank you. Why didn’t you answer my letter?”

“I’ve been busy setting everything up. Bas is still at the market, shopping for last-minute items.”

That was going to be her next question, and she hated how much she relaxed to hear that Bas hadn’t just been avoiding her.

Marisol set the card on the coffee table and picked up one of the cups the servants had placed there. “You didn’t tell me you were going to host your own event. That was a strange thing to find out from an invitation.”

“I didn’t realize that was something I had to run by you,” Teo said with genuine bewilderment. “Did you want to help with the planning?”

Marisol’s lips parted, but she had no argument to make to that. They’d been partners, but only for the length of the Coronet. The Coronet was over. The plan would have been over, if not for the fact that she had yet to get back inside House Muerte. He didn’t need to run his future actions by her, especially with regard to the witches. She’d just wanted him to.

She’d thought they were—Well. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

She sipped her tea. “I was just wondering how this was supposed to help us get the final plant from House Muerte. You didn’t even ask to host it there.”

“That wasn’t on my mind,” Teo said. “My father insisted I end my trip on this note, and then I had a limited amount of time to get everything together…”

Marisol thought of Teo sneaking into the garden, snatching the orange blossoms from the trees, and crushing them in his hands. That boy seemed worlds away from the one who sat before her, claiming that he hadn’t considered the plan at all in setting up this event. Something was going on, but Marisol couldn’t figure out what.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I was being silly. You should get ready before the guests start arriving.”

“I’ve never seen anyone arrive to a royal party on time.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re early, so technically it doesn’t count.” But Teo was smiling as he got to his feet. “I’ll be back once I’m dressed, and we can spend some time together. I’ve missed you.”

Marisol wasn’t surprised that she’d missed him, too, but her eyes were still drawn to the window and the lands beyond. She couldn’t very well see to Estrellad from here, but she could let her mind wander. Gaspar would be furious if she returned without the plant he needed, and Rodrigo’s death would’ve been in vain if she didn’t take down the witches in his stead. Perhaps she would follow Teo’s lead and ask Noelia if they could have a going-away party at House Muerte tomorrow. With her key and her knowledge of exactly where the orange trees were, she could be in and out in under five minutes.

And then she could enjoy tonight’s party without stress.

By the time Teo returned, Marisol had emptied her cup and eaten half his tea cakes. He rescued one for himself, eyes twinkling, and drew her into conversation about her week. The prince was easy to talk to and he knew it. Every time she thought they might run out of conversation, he smoothly led them on a new tangent, until she was laughing so hard that she thought the seams of her dress might give out. Bas arrived with an armful of bags, rolled his eyes fondly at their hysterics, and disappeared into the kitchen. Eventually, he returned to sit on the arm of Marisol’s chair—forcing her to ignore her newfound awareness of him before Teo noticed anything amiss.

Their conversation was only ended by the arrival of the first guests, announced by the servants to be Magisters Baylin and Ozalla.