The hollow, exhausted feeling inside of me expanded, and I yawned.
“We need to get you back to Violet House,” he murmured. “Call your carriage.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have any money left on my credit card, Donovan. The app won’t book me a ride. I’ve reached my limit. That little ride with Amir wiped me out.”
He stared at me for a moment. “You have no gold?”
“No, Donovan. I have no gold right now. My gold stash is gone.”
He shook his head, bewildered. “I will give you?—”
“I don’t want you to give me anything.” Oh, damn, I was going to cry. The whole night had wiped me out. I was too raw, too exhausted. Tired, sad,patheticallyjealous. “Look,” I said. “You have to go. I’m smart enough to know when I’m not needed. Let me go home, recharge my batteries, and we’ll save someone else’s realm tomorrow, okay? I can walk to a stop and jump on the light rail.” It wasn’t that far. As long as I didn’t step on any broken glass in my bare feet, I should be okay.
He stared at me, hard, his eyes almost boring into me, as if trying to see the inside of my brain. Then, he turned. “Nate.”
The combat mage bounced over. While the battle had drained the rest of us, Nate seemed more invigorated than usual.
“Call Cecil,” Donovan ordered. “Tell him to find a mortal carriage and bring it here to pick up the Chosen.”
Nate nodded, stepped back, whirled his hands in a circle, gathering up a blue flame in his palms, then clapped them together. Stretching them out, he created a circle of solid blackness and stuck his head into it.
His head disappeared. Almost immediately, he pulled it back out. “He’s on his way.”
Donovan nodded.
Cress huddled up with the three of them, and they began discussing plans for sweeping up the scattered banwyn before they reformed. I tuned them out. I was just too tired.
What felt like thirty seconds later, a sleek golden sports car roared up the street. It screeched to a halt right in front of me.
The door raised up. Cecil sat in the driver’s seat. I glanced down. He was wearing glittery platform heels strapped to his back hooves so he could reach the gas pedals.
“Your carriage awaits, my lady.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over. Then, his eyes bulged. “What the hell have you done to that gown, Chosen? Are you sitting on a curb in watered silk? And… and is that… banwyn goo?”
I got to my feet, groaning. “Yup. It is.” At least Cecil was predictable.
He threw back his head and let out a heartbreaking whinny of distress. “Do you know how hard it is to get out?”
“So I hear.” God, I was sore. I bent backwards, stretching out my spine, and limped towards the car.
“That wascouture,” he howled. “The silkworms were boiled in gold leaf tea! The hem was hand-stitched by Albanian orphans! It’s ruined. Ruined! I might as well use it as a rag to clean the toilet.” He glared at me for a while. “Get in. I will shout at you some more while we’re driving home.”
Donovan broke away from his huddle with his company and tapped on Cecil’s window. “Straight back to Violet House.”
“Oh, no, I thought we’d stop for cocktails downtown,” he said sarcastically. “She’s covered in dirt and banwyn blood, Your Highness. I’m hardly going to parade her out in public.”
Donovan’s face grew stony. “A simple ‘yes’ will suffice, Cecil.”
“Yes, my liege. My most high highness. I’ll take her straight home.”
Iclimbed into the sports car. Cecil lowered the door and hit the gas. “Did you have a nice night?”
“No.”
“Ooh.” He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “You’re a Debbie Downer this evening.”
