Page 241 of Interion

Chapter 60

Zion teleported to my side. We were in line for the presentation, and I’d been cracking my knuckles for the fifth time that night out of anxiety.

“By the gods, for a moment I thought I’d have to enter with Serguei,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief when he offered me his arm and took his place at my side, filling in for the family escort.

“I wouldn’t complain—in fact, my invitation to the rite still stands.” Serguei smiled at both of us, and Zion stiffened beside me.

“How many glasses of wine has the old man had?” Zion asked me, frowning at his father.

“By my count, twelve.”

Serguei straightened beside me.

“If I may correct you, it was fifteen, but who’s counting, right?”

“You obviously shouldn’t be counting, since you’ve clearly exceeded your limits,” Zion retorted. “For your own good, I advise you to stay far away from the fire—you’re so flammable you might actually explode.”

I stepped on Zion’s foot, a clear signal for him to shut up, but Serguei burst out laughing beside me.

“I bet you’d love to see me explode, wouldn’t you?”

“It would be lovely,” my partner replied with a sardonic smile.

This time I kicked Zion so hard he stumbled backward and bit back a curse as he returned to my side. Just another normal night between the two of them. A horn sounded again, and soon the violinists began to play. My heart did flips and somersaults inside my chest. This was the presentation march, so beautiful and moving that my throat tightened into a suffocating knot just from hearing the first notes. Around me, the guests rose to their feet, opening small booklets containing the name, background information, grades, and photo of each fae in my class. It was a presentation to the Gods, but it had also become something of a student showcase.

Adele was the first to enter, walking beside an older woman with a stern expression who wore a scarf of rich, shimmering fabric around her head, covering her hair. The two looked like sisters, both dressed in long black high-necked dresses, and from the resemblance, I immediately knew this was her mother. Everyone applauded, and the king raised his chalice to the heavens while the violins saluted her. They took their places on a raised circle—the blood circle—then bowed five times. Five salutations for five Gods. Finally, Adele poured ten drops of her blood into a white bowl centered on a marble table.

My heart was racing.

“Hey,” Zion called to me, worried. “You okay?”

Adrian entered next and received the same welcome. My legs refused to obey me, and when we took another step toward the stairway leading to the walkway, Zion had to catch me so I wouldn’t fall.

“I... I...” I took a deep breath, using arcane breathing to try to calm myself, but as I looked at all those strangers, my emotions spiraled out of control. “They don’t like me. I don’t know if I can do this, Zion.” I closed my eyes and kept breathing, deeper and deeper, remembering the day the Vinturian men had spit on me. “I’m not prepared for the contempt of an entire crowd.”

Cliffs didn’t shake me, but a bunch of people glaring at me? Oh, that left my legs wobbly.

“I like you—isn’t that enough?” he asked, pulling me closer and kissing my hair, breathing me in. I felt another arm link through mine and opened my eyes to see Serguei, who had moved to my left side.

“I’m here too.”

More students were called forward, and we reached the foot of the stairway. I looked from Zion to Serguei, wanting to say it was enough, but I couldn’t speak—the words wouldn’t come—and Zion just stroked my back, murmuring that he was there. More applause rose into the cold night, and I trembled.

“If you want, I can make them bow when you go up. I can tell them to applaud until their hands bleed or to simply stand motionless,” Serguei murmured, low enough for only me to hear. “But we’d be living a lie, and I believe you’re better than that.”

I nodded in agreement. I didn’t want a lie, but my legs still wouldn’t obey as the two men guided me up another step. Serguei finally had to step away, since the last student before us was about to be called.

“I want to tell you one last thing tonight, Kyller. Something I learned from being who I am,” Serguei said, trying—and failing—to hide the emotion and drunkenness in his voice.

I waited anxiously for his wisdom, because I loved his words. He drew in a breath and let it out all at once:

“Tell them all to go fuck themselves.”

I choked, as did Zion behind me.

“What?” I sputtered, shocked, wondering if that was really what I’d heard.

“That’s exactly what you heard, girl,” Serguei said, running his hand through his hair to fix some loose strands he himself had messed up earlier. “When they make you doubt yourself, or when they make you feel less than you are, tell them all to go to hell. Trust only what you know about yourself. Don’t pay any mind to what others think. Most of them are wrong. Only you can judge yourself with wisdom and authority.”