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Halfway across the lawn, I nearly run into the Winter Court entourage. Magus is escorting them to their quarters, which I’m willing to bet are more luxurious than where Zinnia, Vi, and Jane are staying.
Despite the pleasant spring air, the Winter King wears a fur-lined cloak of navy blue velvet. The grass where he’s walked is frozen, a trailing path of glittery white.
Before I can remember that he probably hates me—and that I should probably hide—his gaze shifts to our little group.
And fixes on me.
Something reaches through his cold demeanor, a curiosity, and then he nods to my drink as he holds his up.
“Is he . . . toasting you?” Mack whispers.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Crap, he’s definitely toasting me.
I thrust my drink into the air, sending the fizzy lavender liquid sloshing over the side.
When the king takes a sip of his, Mack pokes my ribs. “Drink. You’re supposed to drink.”
I rush the glass to my lips, the bubbly lilac cocktail tingling all the way down my throat.
Without a word, he dismisses me and continues toward his quarters, the ice crackling in his wake.
What the frick was that?
Before I can ask Mack if what just happened was normal, she drags me into the middle of a group of first and second year shadows. A band famous in the Everwilde called the Deranged Nymphs is on the center stage, the mixture of instruments and beats whipping the crowd into a frenzy.
Eclipsa appears with her tray of shots, somehow still not a drop spilled. She offers me one.
“What are those for?” I yell over the music.
“A few of these and your friends will adore me,” she promises.
I decline the shots, but the others down them. It isn’t long before Mack, Eclipsa, and Layla surround Jace, who’s only happy to be surrounded by three of the hottest girls on the dance floor.
Richard and I are the only ones not actively trying to embalm our livers. At some point, we’re paired off together, and we awkwardly shake our hips. Like most people who can’t dance, we end up yelling over the music, hoping to use small talk to divert from the fact that we suck at dancing.
“I can’t believe it’s been over a year,” Richard yells.
“What?”
“A year! Since Evelyn turned. The dance reminded me of her.”
Oh. That explains why he’s not really in a partying mood. That makes two of us.
Between Valerian’s recent coldness, Mack’s struggles, and waiting for Hellebore to call in his bargain, I just can’t muster the energy to celebrate.
I look around for Mack, but she and the others have drifted deeper into the crowd. She’s already on her third drink and Titania knows how many shots.
I don’t like her drinking with this many Fae around, but we’re surrounded by mortals, and she’s with Eclipsa. Most of the Evermore have taken up the other side of the dance floor and are ignoring us completely.
She’ll be fine. Stop worrying. She’s with humans, and she needs the break after finals. art nearly bursts as I take the seat between Zinnia and Jane. After I let Zinnia bombard me with affection, and sit still for Nick and Sebastian’s pictures, I turn my attention to my younger sister. Her reddish-copper hair is pulled into a braid, the freckles on her nose just starting to darken under the summer sun.
Somehow my aunts managed to get her into a blue and green cotton dress.
She looks deceptively sweet and innocent.
“Hey,” I say. “I heard you were worried about me.”
