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“Then, we’d better use it, huh?”
Kerrigan saw the hesitation in Darby’s eyes. “Never mind,” Kerrigan said at once.
Darby was the youngest of seven siblings. Her parents were farmers, north of the valley. And at the end of the day, they just hadn’t been able to afford a seventh mouth to feed. Her father had packed her up, taken the donkey into the big city, and deposited her on the steps to Draco Mountain. He’d done it out of love. She’d have a much better life here than where she had come from, but that didn’t make it any easier.
Darby still felt the pangs of hunger and poverty, just as Hadrian did. Kerrigan… had never known such. She had only seen it secondhand on the streets and from her friends. Though she would have preferred to have grown up with someone like Darby’s parents. Who had left her out of love… not shame.
“No, no,” Darby said with a sigh. “Wear the powder. It will look lovely with your dress.”
“Are you sure?”
Darby nodded. “That’s why I got it, isn’t it?”
Kerrigan took the small pot of powder and gently brushed a hint of it across her lids. Instantly, the sweep of the kohl that winged at the edges and the brush of black paint along her lashes all came together. Her emerald-green eyes looked twice as big as normal.
“Wow,” Darby said in awe. “That suits you.”
Kerrigan swiveled around and brushed some along Darby’s nearly black lids. “It suits us both.”
Darby looked at her reflection and smiled shyly. “I suppose it does. Now, get in your dress. We’re already late to meet Hay.”
Kerrigan reached into her wardrobe and retrieved the forest-green dress. She was lucky enough to have made friends with an up-and-coming fashion designer, Parris, who liked to try out all of his styles on Kerrigan’s frame. He’d sent this one over this morning, and she was dying to see what he’d put together for the Dragon Blessed ceremony.
“You are the only person I know who can primp and preen in a skintight crushed-velvet dress and be just as happy in men’s clothing, running her fists through things.”
Kerrigan admired her figure in the slim cut of the dress. It had long, breathable lace sleeves and exposed the entire top of her shoulders. The dress had a slit up just past her knee on one side, exposing the milky white of her leg. Scandalous indeed.
“It all feels the same to me,” Kerrigan finally said.
“Like I said… the only one.”
“I can be multidimensional.”
Darby laughed. “You can. But why do you like to fight in that dreadful place?”
Kerrigan sighed. She had come back beaten up one too many times for Darby not to know that she was fighting in the Dragon Ring. Everyone else would be appalled, but Kerrigan didn’t want to stop. This was just who she was. She liked dressing up in pretty dresses as much as the fight.
“The world below, in the Wastes, it makes more sense to me,” she whispered. “It’s more… honest.”
“More honest?”
Kerrigan shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We should go. We’re late.”
Darby frowned like she wanted to say more but decided to let it pass. “All right. Put on some shoes.”
Kerrigan grabbed the soft gold flats that she preferred and followed Darby from their rooms. They almost made it to the entrance when Kerrigan realized what Darby and Hadrian had failed to tell her.
“What is he doing here?” she hissed at Darby.
Lyam stood next to Hadrian in the glow of the firelight. He fidgeted slightly. An old habit that he’d never been able to break.
“Shh,” Darby said. “Be polite. He’s still our friend.”
Kerrigan groaned. This was not the night she had signed up for.
Hadrian was in the newest fashion in crisp black breeches and a tight black jerkin. His cravat was a soft blue to complement his bright blue hair. Lyam, on the other hand, looked like he’d thrown himself together that moment. As if he hadn’t been sure whether or not he’d come with them. His jacket was askew, and he wasn’t even wearing a cravat. A sliver of his neck and chest was exposed from the unbuttoned top of his shirt.
“About time,” Hadrian said. “We were going to leave without you.”
“No, we weren’t,” Lyam said with a laugh. His eyes found Kerrigan’s, and he flushed. “You look lovely tonight.” He darted to Darby. “Both of you.”
“Why, thank you, Lyam,” Darby said, tactfully taking his arm. Thank you, Darbs. “Shall we be off?”
Hadrian offered Kerrigan his arm.
She gratefully placed her hand on his sleeve. “Yes, let’s.”
8
The Celebration
Lady Sonali of tribe Bryonica, Second of the House of Stoirm, had a magnificent mansion on the eastern banks of the valley. Her home was large enough that she had land in the city. It was a prominent feature on the Row, the wealthiest area of town that housed so much of the Fae aristocracy.
