“Livisian,” Adara murmured in awe, taking in all the pastel decorations, luxurious clothing, and blooming flowers. “The festival of life.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“For Elysian, Goddess of Life, Ruler of Sengui,” she explained.
A young girl twirled by in an amethyst gown, feet clad in golden slippers. A crown of flowers woven together adorned her wavy blond hair. A basket was cradled in the crook of her arm, holding many more of the blossoming circlets. She skipped up to Adara, fished a flower crown from her basket with delicate, porcelain fingers, and held it out to her with a dazzling smile. Her green eyes crinkled at the edges, shining with glee. Adara’s mouth hung open, jaw working, but she couldn’t even form words. The little girl only blinked at her, that striking grin stillgracing her features as she gently clasped Adara’s hand. Every instinct told her to draw her sword, despite how harmless the kid was, but she refrained from reaching for the weapon hidden in the folds of her cloak.
The girl merely wrapped Adara’s fingers around the woven flowers. Once the crown was securely in Adara’s hand, the girl stepped back, waved, and then skipped off to pass out more of the vibrant floral diadems. Adara lifted her arms out in front of her, gently holding the crown in both hands. The colorful flowers shone bright underneath the sunlight. Part of her expected it to wither to dust in her hands.
Similar decorations would be present all throughout the streets of Ignatius and the cities beyond. The day would be filled with music and dancing and laughter andlife.She’d adored the festival when she was young, before she was captured by the Shadow Empire.
After that, within the dungeons, there was nothing to celebrate. And once she’d escaped, during her time in Lykrios, on the days the festival was held, Adara had holed herself up in the Jarkan Forest, not wanting to experience it without her friends. With them dead, there was no point to Livisian, no point to life. If her friends could not experience it, neither would she.
“Do children scare you that much?” Dominic’s voice drew her out of her thoughts.
Adara blinked away the tears and slapped him on the shoulder.
He didn’t so much as flinch. “I mean, all you had to do was take it, and you couldn’t even do that,” he joked with a crooked grin, gesturing to the circlet in her hand draped lazily by her side.
Adara rolled her eyes. “Well, if you want it so badly, then why don’t you have it?” she said, placing the crown of flowers askew atop his silky chestnut hair. She laughed. If only those aroundthem knew the King of Keys, the Thief of Hearts, the notorious Dominic Nite, stood in the midst of a festival with a flower crown atop his head.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Because, love, it looks so much better on you.” He lifted the circlet off his head and placed it on her own. Adjusting her hair beneath it, his fingers lingered in the locks for longer than necessary.
A stab of disappointment shot through her when he finally pulled away.
“Much better,” Dominic murmured.
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips. His gaze remained on her, emerald irises alight with entrancement.
A blush tinted her cheeks. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said.
He only smiled and raised a brow. “Like what?”
“Like that!” Gods, she hated him looking at her like that. Like she was some sort ofPherramagic he’d seen for the first time and could think of nothing more extraordinary. Like she was some magnificent painting hung in one of the most lavish corridors of the palace, and he wanted to memorize every detail of it. Like she was the only thing in this bustling city when there were plenty of other people, decorations, and goods from all over the world to stare at.
He was looking at her like she was the only person in the world worth laying eyes on.
Her skin crawled. Her stomach churned at how much she adored that expression on his face. Shehatedit.
And Dominic knew it. That explained that stupid, cocky grin full of mock-innocence plastered on his face. How many other girls had he won over with that look? How many keys had fallen into his hands simply because he knew how to make someone feel cherished with only a glance?
Adara scowled at him, then continued walking toward the busy streets. Dominic followed by her side. Children ran around the city, smiling and laughing, playing with toys their parents purchased at the wooden carts lining the cobbled road. Adara’s eyes wandered back and forth between the carts selling vibrant clothing, expensive jewelry, delectable foods and so much more.
Caleb and Tobias stood at a cart painted in pastels, sharing a delicious-looking pastry. Niran and Tyson were inspecting knives laid upon a wooden countertop. Asher, Ace, Zephyr, and Evreux were occupied playing some game set up on the side of the street. They each took turns trying to toss a coin into a thin bottle, attempting to win one of the assortment of prizes the vendor offered. Sawyer and Silas walked toward a cart selling wood carvings while Desmond and Vesper strode toward a wagon with a variety of meats skewered on a stick. The smell had Adara’s mouth watering.
She’d forgotten how lively everything was during Livisian. Forgotten the joys and wonders people experienced together under the Eyes of Elysian. As much as she despised Lykrios, it reminded her of home during the three days in which the festival took place. It was a reminder of the home she had lost. The home she had failed to save.
Adara stopped in her tracks, a gorgeous, powder blue gown catching her eye. Someone bumped into her, muttered an apology, and continued on. Adara paid them no attention as she strolled over to the wooden cart from which it hung. Dominic, noting her absence, turned and forced his way through the crowd to reach her. She ran a hand over the satin, its long skirts billowing in the gentle breeze. Sheer sleeves hung limply at its side, and Adara thought it was a shame not to have them filled. Her hand trailed over the bodice, admiring the off-shoulder neckline beautifully accented with silver beads in the shape of tiny flowers.
She could see it—the ethereal grace with which she would have danced in such a lovely gown on the last night of Livisian out in the vast forest in the heart of Blemythia. It was where all the denizens of each kingdom willing to make the journey would go. A sacred place during the festival because it was in the middle of the kingdoms, where the Goddess of Life’s temple resided.
Adara would twirl around in that blue gown, part of her hair braided in a crown atop her head, the rest of it cascading in loose curls down her back. She’d dance with her friends until a handsome boy—perhaps a prince—would invite her to waltz, and she’d say yes. Her brother, Agni, would keep a close eye on them from the sidelines. But she wouldn’t care about the suitors lining up to ask for her hand. All she’d want was to sing and dance and celebrate the beauty of life, the gift they’d been given. The gods would watch on, a bit jealous, unable to experience such happiness. For everything was much more beautiful when you knew it wouldn’t last forever.
“I never took you for someone interested in such material things.” Dominic’s voice drew her out of her daydreaming.
She startled, dropping her hand from the dress, schooling her expression into one of boredom.Because I don’t have time for things like this anymore,she wanted to say. Because they were supposed to head out west to find the ashes of the Ruins.
Adara gave him a taunting smirk, and said, “It’s refreshing to finally find clothing beautiful enough to match this.” She gestured to herself.
