“Carwynn,” Finley whispered, gentle but urgent.
My eyes fluttered, still trying to comprehend the whirlwind of this confusing, bizarre interaction. A sinking nausea started to roll in my gut.
“What the hell was he babbling about?” I asked, my voice hiding a slight tremble. Something was off. I could feel it.
Finley’s hand curled around mine. He surveyed me as if deciding what to say next.
“Please, ignore him. We had a bit of arun-inearlier today. Got a little heated.” He frowned, but his eyes pleaded. “I promise I’ll explain it later. Can we just—let it go for now?”
For a moment I hesitated, feeling the hollow words constrict around me. Wounds from the past instantly felt sore and began to sting.
I inhaled, swallowing them down.
I squeezed his hand. This was different—hewas different.
You’re safe with me, Carwynn. Always.The memory of his words securely wrapped around me.
“Okay,” I said. “Later then.”
My inkling flickered, only slightly, like a candle catching a breeze, scattering shadows.
The Trefoil Castlewas wholly transformed for the Fortuna Ball. The front courtyard now shimmered with gorgeous, gilded fountains, each one spewing sparkling water that fanned out like liquid fireworks. Orb lights floated overhead, illuminating the entire grounds, dotting the air like golden fireflies. It was simplymystical.
My anxiety melted into pure awe.
Billowing tents in every shade of the rainbow scattered across the grass. Guests popped in and out, exploring, laughing, reveling in the magic of it all.
I couldn’t stop the childlike smile that grew. It was like a casino, a carnival, and a masquerade met up for a wild threesome and birthed a . . .masinoval? Whatever it was, it was spectacular! My insides felt like a little kid kicking their feet in excitement.
Finley’s hand stayed fastened to mine as he guided me through a maze of poofy dresses and cigar-smoking suits.
We passed a silky, purple cone-shaped tent where smoky wisps danced out of the entrance as guests waited in a long line to get inside. A cloaked figure dealt cards over a velvet table.Psychic readings? Oooh, yes! Definitely coming back for that one.
Finley tugged me onward, bobbing past another tent. This one, striped in gold and green with frilly ruffles on the sides. A rich, meaty aroma made my mouth water. Inside, slabs of marbled beef rotated over fire pits as butchers carved generous slices and twisted them onto sticks like savory lollipops.That one . . . most definitely going to that one too.
The next tent, a glittery, dark navy with rhythmic music pulsing from within. Colorful orbs flashed over the fabric as dancers gyrated to the beat. A few Si brassers hovered in the air, hands stroking sensually down their bare backsides and breasts.Umm, yeah, we can skip that one.
Bypassing a few more oddities, we reached the wide base of a green marble staircase that led up to the castle entrance, and the ballroom beyond.
Guess it’s business first, play later. Bummer. My mouth was watering to suck down a huge meat lollipop—not like that.
Electric pins and needles of magic spread over my skin as we crossed over the main doors. If the tent city outside was carnival paradise, the ballroom inside was a dream carved from elegance. Towering marble pillars lined the perimeter, veined in shimmering gold. The floor gleamed with intricate knotwork designs, golden patterns woven into polished stone like threads of a tapestry. Circular tables filled the spaces behind the pillars.
The soft scuff of cards drifted through the air as guests rolled dice and plastered on their best poker face. Servers in sparkling dresses and dapper, glittering suits glided between groups, balancing steaming platters and towers of bubbly champagne flutes.
At the center, a wide-open space stretched up to the dais. Guests swayed in smooth steps, dancing to the charming symphony projecting from the musicians stationed off to the side.
The dais was empty. A lonely golden throne at its center. Silent, regal, and waiting. Two wolves were carved into the arms, captured mid-lunge as if pouncing on the crowd. The throne’s back spiraled upward in curling tree vines, branching out into glittering leaves. The craftsmanship was breathtaking. The chair itself—magnificent, a living art form.
I froze in place, mouth slack as I tilted my head up to take it all in. Above me, the ceiling burst with color, explosions of radiant hues depicting Luckland’s legendary Scurboga Gates. A sweeping, translucent arch outstretched overhead, cascades of color poured like waterfalls from the heavens.
“Wow,” I breathed.
Finley’s hand slipped from mine as he peered down at me, beaming.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His gaze lifted, joining mine.
“There’s only one timeless beauty I see in this room,” a jovial voice interrupted.
