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If this is how I feel knowing she kept a test from me, how will she feel when she finds out I’ve been hiding my past? I thought keeping that from her was for her own protection, but I see now that’s not an excuse to lie to a friend.
I have to fix this before she finds out some other way.
After the final gauntlet, I’ll tell her the truth.
36
The entire school attends the spring banquet, from professors to students, a tradition taken directly from Whitehall Academy. I rush to the quad just as dusk approaches. Long tables covered in white linen are spread out across the lawn, beneath the crape myrtle and cherry trees. The magical lanterns strung through their branches glow softly.
The Evermore and their families sit at tables in the middle of the courtyard. Accordingly, they get waiters, fancier chairs with cushions, and their own private bar.
I search the quad. Where are the second year tables?
While bumbling around looking for where to go, I stumble across a table laden with sweets. Hellebore’s sprite, Nerium, is already terrorizing the gnome Fae in charge of doling out the tiny plates of candied violets and strawberry basil tarts.
Ruby screeches from her perch on my shoulder. “Have you ever seen anything quite so beautiful?”
“Ruby, don’t you dare leave my shoulder.”
There might have been a rule that specified no sprites allowed at the banquet . . . and I might have broken said rule. I reach for Ruby, but she slips through my fingers, cackling in delight.
Note to self: some rules are probably there for a reason.
I leave Ruby to fight Hellebore’s sprite over a slice of apricot almond tart. As I pass by the group of fourth year tables, Callum spies me and nods, but the gesture is clipped.
Of course. I’m the only underclassmen to enter the final gauntlet. There are twenty passing spots and over forty fourth years.
The day I threw my name in the final gauntlet, I declared myself a threat.
I find the second year group near the courtyard fountain, in the shadow of the Magical Arts building that forms the east wing. Mack spots me immediately and runs to drag me over to where she sits beside her dads and . . .
“Holy orc balls,” I blurt as she grabs my hand. “Is that . . .?” My vision blurs with unshed tears as I stare at Aunt Zinnia, Aunt Vi, and Jane all sitting across from Mack’s dads. “How?”
I knew parents and family were allowed to attend the banquet, but I didn’t bother mentioning it to Aunt Zinnia. After she attended the first gauntlet, I was worried just coming to the Everwilde again would dredge up the old wounds from losing her family, and I didn’t want to be responsible for that.
But now, seeing them here . . . I realize just how much I’ve missed them. How much I’ve needed their presence, if only for a few hours, to remind me why I’m doing all of this.
“Zinnia was easy to convince,” Mack says. “But Vi?” She whistles. “My dads and I have been working on her since Christmas.”
“They don’t make ’em like Aunt Violet anymore,” I admit.
Mack loops her arm around my waist and drags me to my place at the table. “My dads might have sent her an expensive fruit basket and some insanely expensive Russian vodka to soften her up.”
I laugh, nodding to Jane. “And her?”
“She insisted on coming. Said she’d cross the Shimmer on her own if she wasn’t invited. She swears you’re in trouble. That the Fae have done something to you.”
Frick. The last few months have been so crazy that I haven’t always responded to Jane’s texts. In fairness, they’re mainly about ways to kill the Fae—she’s been busy researching, apparently—but still. I should have responded. b my gloves, stuff them into my Puma bag, and follow her out into the spring air. Students mill around campus, some already dressed for the evening banquet. “If it’s just a word, why can’t he say it?”
She laughs. “Remind me not to ever go against you in court once you get that internship and become a lawyer.”
“Deal.” My phone buzzes, probably Mack. “I gotta go.” I give her a quick hug. “Are you coming to the dance later?”
I’ve been so busy prepping for the final gauntlet that I’d nearly forgotten the spring banquet and formal was tonight. Thank goodness Mack texted me a few hours ago reminding me to make time for a shower.
“I didn’t plan on it.” She frowns at a few shadows who nearly run into us on the lawn, sending them reeling back.
I can’t help but think her reluctance is due to a certain sociopathic prince.
