“Ow! What was that for?”
“That was for being yourself.”
The group broke out into laughter again.
This time, I joined them.
With that, we began to eat. I ate until my stomach protested, then kept eating because everything tasted like safety made edible.
“Easy.” Daemon’s voice dropped low, meant only for me. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I know.” I took another bite anyway.
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough to warm something in my chest.
Music swelled as the sky deepened from purple to true black. Stars emerged, far more than should have been visible, scattered across the heavens in patterns that looked almost deliberate.
Then Lyralei took the stage.
She didn’t walk to it so much as appear there, her robes catching the lantern light effortlessly. The crowd quieted on their own, out of respect for their Keeper.
“Children of the Veil.” Lyralei’s voice carried without strain. “Tonight, we celebrate what was, what is, and what may yet be.”
I leaned forward despite myself.
“Once every fifty years, the barriers between worlds condense before the sun. The Veil itself breathes, and for one night we remember we are not refugees hiding in shadow.”
Lyralei spread her arms, robes billowing.
“We are guardians. Keepers. The last defense against what hungers beneath the Cursed Throne.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“The Veiled Night comes to remind us why we endure. Why we teach our children the old ways. Why we preserve what others have forgotten.” She lifted her gaze skyward. “Watch now, and remember what we protect.”
The stars began to dim as if something vast had passed between them and the earth. The darkness deepened until I could barely see Daemon beside me, until the lanterns seemed to pulse in response.
Then light broke through.
It started as a single beam, brilliant silver-blue, tearing across the sky. Then another. And another. Within heartbeats, the entire heavens blazed with pulsing veins of luminescence, midday transforming into something that belonged to neither day nor night.
Veil-light.
Around the clearing, beautiful violet flowers began to bloom.
They erupted from the ground and blossomed on the branches of the trees. Delicate blossoms in shades of violet, silver, and the deepest blue. They climbed trees in spiraling vines, carpeting the entire space in living color.
Then they burst.
Petals exploded from every flower simultaneously. The air filled with a storm of color and light. They fell like snow. Like rain. It was as if the heavens were sending us their blessing. They caught in hair and on shoulders. They landed on skin like wet paper.
Music erupted, and the Fae cheered. Drums, strings, and voices raised in harmony. The Fae flooded toward the center of the clearing and onto the stage, spinning and leaping withabandon. The distinction between celebration and ritual blurred until they became one.
Daemon stood beside me. His shadows curled around his feet despite the brilliance overhead. He turned to me, extending one hand and flicking his chin toward the stage of dancing Fae.
My heart lurched. “I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I.” His mouth curved. “Doesn’t seem like anyone would care.”
