Paparazzi shout out, trying to get a quote or photo from the guests. There are dozens of onlookers, and beyond that is a protest. Maybe a hundred people holding placards.
Equality for all,reads one. Several more say ‘Fuck the Elite’.
I can’t tell if the protestors are human or witches.
Encircling the small crowd are WMO ‘peace keepers’ wearing helmets and carrying riot shields.
I suddenly feel completely sick about all the opulence: the expensive gowns, the red carpet, the limos.
Max looks around, fists clenched. “Let’s get inside,” he growls. “This atmosphere smells dangerous.” I wonder if his hellhound instincts are kicking in.
Donovan puts a hand on the small of my back. “Yep, let's move, Tee.”
The angry chants fade as we enter the State building. Stepping inside, my mouth drops open. It’s like going back in time to a royal court or something. Everything is just so…lavish.
And outside, protesting, are the peasants. The serfs.
Donovan snags us glasses of champagne from a passing server. “Are there always protests outside these kinds of events?” I ask him, taking a tiny sip of cold bubbles and trying to remind myself to sober up.
“Never seen it before,” he replies.
“It’s unsettling,” Max adds. “Unrest between witches and humans in Kormovia is common, but here in Havengard?” He looks around the room and sneers. “Not surprising though; there isn’t a more class-based system in the fucking world. And the humans get a shit-deal most of the time.”
It’s surprising to hear Maximus talk so seriously. It’s more like something his cousin would say.
Talking of whom…
—You look so fucking beautiful, pulu—
I swivel around and see Alexis standing within a group of tuxedo-clad men. Our eyes meet.
—I wish you could spend the evening with us—
—Gods, me too. I’m sure we could find something much more interesting to do than talk about bond investments—
—Bondage investments? I didn’t know you were kinky, sir—
—Fuck, I’d tie you up in a heartbeat—
“Theo?” I quickly yank my thoughts away from Alexis’s weak-knee making offer.
Donovan and Maximus are both looking at me. “Why are you all flushed, Tee?”
“Yeah,” Max smirks. “And what’s with the blown pupils, princess? Something got you all hot and bothered?”
Oh well. “I was just having a little conversation with Alexis.”
“You can have a ‘little conversation’ with me anytime you like,” Max says, and I flick him on the arm; he’s such a flirt.
“Oh, fuck.” Donovan grabs my arm and starts steering me across the room until we are in a discreet corner. “Fuck,” he says again.
Maximus and I both look in the direction he’s staring.
“Who are they?”
“My parents.”
I look at the couple at the far side of the room. She’s dressed in a wine-red pantsuit, not exactly ball fashion, and the man is wearing a very plain tuxedo. They are the same height, so the woman must be 6 feet tall. She’s the one with curling brown hair, that the twins inherited. It’s currently pulled back off her severe face, held in check by a hideous satin Alice band.
