Madame Allegria snagged her up, her nails digging so deeply into her arm that Valerie bit her lip in pain.
“Don’tembarrass me,” her aunt hissed, a smile plastered to her red-rouged lips, her white teeth flashing underneath the bright sunlight. She lifted her hand. “Oh there you are, Nadia! So lovely to see you again.Lovethat dress. The mayor’s wife on Genesis wore a similar shade during the Kibredian charity dinner last week.”
Nadia—a large woman with color-altered eyes and blonde hair too light and cool-toned for her complexion—simpered, practically oozing her thanks all over the cobblestoned walkway. Madame Allegria never stopped walking, tossing over her shoulder that theymustget drinks soon and catch up.
“Keep up,” Madame Allegria snapped. “And do everything I say once we are inside.”
“Where are we?” Valerie finally managed to ask, her heartbeat thrumming in her throat, making her feel like she would choke. “Why am I here?”
Madame Allegria ignored her. There were two men manning the two doors to the regal house and they bowed low before swinging the white doors open.
Valerie’s eyes went wide.
A massive foyer greeted them, teeming with people. It was a ball, she realized. Couples were dancing in the foyer, old music floating from somewhere unseen, echoing around that massive space, coupling with boisterous laughter and the clinking of glasses.
That wasn’t what surprised her, however.
Inside, it wasnight.
The foyer was warm and inviting as projections of bright, silver stars twinkled overhead. Dark, wispy clouds floated in front of the stars every so often, giving the foyer the illusion of being outside at nighttime. It evensmelledlike the crisp air at midnight, lingering scents of dewy grass and pine trees from the Lake District.
Hundreds of Old World candles, dripping in thick, silky white wax, lit up a chandelier in the very center of the foyer and more lined the walls and the tables that were laden with food and drinks.
It was beautiful.
Heads turned to regard them as they entered the makeshift ballroom, Madame Allegria stepping in front and Valerie falling into place behind her. She felt uncomfortable, like one of the Old Earth possessions that her aunt bought from traders, something to be scrutinized and turned and studied and bought. Hundreds of eyes crawled over her flesh, over her hair, over her dress—one that bared her cleavage and her arms but kept her back entirely covered. One that kept her scars covered.
All Valerie wanted was to be with Dravka right then.
What she wouldn’t give to go back in time a few months, when she would creep into his room in the late afternoons and they would smile at one another and whisper about things Valerie couldn’t even remember as golden sunlight crept across his walls.
Longing went through her and she stumbled after her aunt unseeing, a blur of faces passing by, her aunt’s voice lilting and beautiful as she greeted everyone around her.
Her aunt seemed to have a destination in mind since they never stopped. She was heading for the back of the foyer, to a small group of people talking and laughing in a circle.
An older man from that group, dressed in a lilac suit, saw Madame Allegria first and a grin spread over his face.
“Derek,” Madame Allegria greeted, going to him first, kissing him on the cheek three times—telling Valerie they were friends. “What a wonderful party you throw. I’m so glad the sky projections turned out so beautifully.”
“With your help, they turned out spectacularly. I can’t thank you enough,” Derek said. He had a head of thick, black hair, though Valerie spied a little grey peppering through the temples. He was handsome, though he had the look of altering, especially around his eyes. “And is this who I think it is?”
His eyes came to her. His teeth were blindingly white as they flashed in the low light. There were three others among the group. An older couple to her aunt’s right and a woman with blonde hair at Derek’s side, her arm looped in his.
A woman Valerie realized she recognized.
Mrs. Larchmont.
Mrs. Larchmont’s lips were pressed tightly together as they locked gazes. Her crystal-blue eyes—unaltered in color and beautiful—were widened but the woman recovered quickly, plastering on a small, even, pleasing smile that Valerie recognized. It was often one she used herself.
Mrs. Larchmont was a regular client of Ravu’s. She came to Madame Allegria’s brothel every two weeks, usually on Thursday nights. Valerie had just booked her another visit with Ravu a couple mornings prior on her way out.
Belatedly, Valerie realized her aunt was introducing her to the group. All she managed to catch with her blood rushing in her ears wasnieceanddeathandGenesis, which had been her home colony.
Madame Allegria, with her clawed nails digging into her arm, pinched her in warning and said, “Valerie, this is Mr. and Mrs. Larchmont. Our hosts for the evening.”
Valerie didn’t know how she managed to do it but she managed to give them both a half-smile and apleased to meet you.
When her aunt pinched her harder, Valerie’s spine straightened and she said softly, “You have a beautiful home. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chandelier so eye-catching.”
