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Boundaries blurred and worlds collided as I relaxed against his touch, leaning into him in a daze of pleasure.
When we finally pulled apart, I made sure to steel my face into an expression of careful serenity as I glanced around the gallery.
The crowd around us had exploded into a cacophony of conversation. I assumed most of it was about us. We had stolen the show from Avriel and Sephone. From the corner of my eye, I caught Avriel watching us closely from where he stood near the queen's left shoulder.
I looked away and was just in time to catch Lyrastra as she swept out through the double glass doors and into the hall beyond.
And then everyone was crowding around us.
Beks had appeared from somewhere. He was grinning and congratulating Draven and winking at me at the same time, as Crescent chattered cheerfully to Javer while Odessa stood nearby, a faint smile on her normally stoic face.
I felt giddy and lightheaded, filled with relief. I could only imagine how Draven felt. To come from a pit of death to this gala-like setting, surrounded by people and praise.
Selwyn stood stoically behind him, his arms crossed over his huge chest, his face flinty. I wondered if he was thinking about Malkah. How close had they been? Friends or more?
Across the room, Erion was speaking to Vespera. I watched as he glanced at Selwyn, then away again.
Erion wasn’t responsible for Malkah’s death. No one was. But I couldn’t help but feel impressed by Selwyn for refusing to leave his friend behind–and put off by Erion’s desperate decision to save his own skin. Though the truth was, I couldn’t imagine what I would have done in the same position. Hadn’t I already come precariously close to being just like Erion once?
A buzz of anticipation was going up in the gallery around me and I realized the glass doors had swung open yet again, but this time to allow new guests entrance.
Hawl stood there with Rychel beside them.
Rychel raised a hand in greeting, then marched towards us. She was dressed in a long flowing coat of a deep shade of violet, embroidered with botanical patterns, and a pair of tailored black trousers. Shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked, the belt around her waist jingled, drawing attention to an assortment of pouches and vials. Hopefully none filled with dangerous or noxious substances. The round glass circles she favored were still perched on her nose. As she came towards us, she freed one hand from her pocket and pushed them up higher.
Behind her, Hawl followed. The proud Bearkin did not spare a single look for the Siabra who were openly gaping and tittering around them. Their broad snout and black nose were held high, quietly confident, while clever dark eyes peered out from under their shaggy brow.
“What the hell are you wearing on your face?” Draven demanded as his sister came up to us.
I grinned, realizing this was the first time I was seeing them together. Side by side, they looked even more alike. Dark hair and green eyes mirroring each other.
“Oh, these?” Rychel touched a hand to the frame on her face. “I call them glimmerglasses.”
Draven sputtered. “You call them what?” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen humans wearing something similar. They improve their vision. I know for a fact, however, that you have perfect sight.”
“I do, it’s true. But these give added... clarity.” Rychel grinned. “Besides, what do you care what I have on my face? You’re not embarrassed by me, are you?” She nudged him playfully, but I noticed her stealing a glance in Sephone’s direction.
The Queen Regent seemed to be studiously ignoring Rychel and Hawl.
“Of course not,” Draven said gruffly. “You can wear whatever you please...”
“Thank you,” Rychel said smoothly.
“No matter how foolish you look.”
“Ouch. I’ve missed you, too, brother.” She looked at me and winked. “Lovely to see you, Morgan.” Then she clapped her hands together. “Now are you all ready? Hawl has prepared refreshments. I think it’s time we left this hellhole, don’t you?”
“More than ready,” Hawl’s voice boomed out. “Already overstayed our welcome, I believe.”
“If we were ever welcome in the first place, which I highly doubt,” Rychel muttered. “Well, move along then, follow me.”
Abruptly, she beamed at me, then pointed downwards.
I looked down and realized that somehow in the last few minutes, Draven’s hand had become intertwined with mine.
“Don’t forget what I told you,” Rychel muttered, leaning towards my ear. “He’s absolutely safe. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“Oh, Zorya,” I groaned with embarrassment, feeling my cheeks flushing pink. “Hush, Rychel.”
