He flashes a white grin. “I know. It’s breezy.”
“Be careful!” One of the attendants bursts between us. “You’ll smudge the paint.”
Dayton is forced to step back, and a new layer of gold is applied to my arm and his hand. Before we can say another word, we’re ushered inside.
Immediately, I’m overwhelmed by the scent of mingling perfumes, wafting delicately amid the lively chatter and soft rustle of silken garments. My heart quickens at the spectacle before me. This isn’t just any Summer Realm party—it’s reminiscent of something out of the Below, an extravaganza that blurs the lines between proper and sensational.
Music drifts through the air. A harpist plucks delicately at the strings, while flutes trill with an otherworldly lilt. All eyes turn to us as we walk into the celebration, the chatter of the crowd fading to a hushed whisper.
Marble columns rise majestically around the room, adorned with intricate carvings. The walls are draped in sumptuous fabrics, rich hues of crimson cascading like blood. Marble statues stand sentinel in alcoves, their serene faces illuminated by flickering torchlight.
But those aren’t the only beacons in this place. Blue lights dance merrily in the air, casting a soft glow. “Will-o’-wisps,” I whisper, leaning closer to Dayton.
“They sometimes float into the Serenus Dusk Chambers and around the arena during games. I didn’t know what they were until you and Farron taught us about the wisps in Autumn. My mother said they were spirits drawn to the great gatherings of life here.” Anger flashes in his gaze. “Not that this is a gathering of life. Look at these people. I recognize half of these Summer and Spring nobles. Spineless sycophants. The rest must be from the Below.”
“They might be just as trapped as we are,” I whisper back.
“Or maybe Kairyn’s giving them an excuse to let out their dark side.”
My gaze is drawn to the figure seated upon a throne at the head of the room, clad in full black armor that gleams ominously in the flickering candlelight. When the owl helm’s gaze meets mine, a shiver runs down my spine.He doesn’t know it’s me,I remind myself.Not with the makeup, not as a siren.
We stop before the throne, and Kairyn stands. “Ah, Daytonales. So pleased you could make it.”
“Yeah, well, I heard the food was better than in the barracks.” Dayton smiles.
There’s a small ripple of laughter through the audience, and I see the annoyance in the shift of Kairyn’s stance.
Beside Kairyn are a handful of his loyal acolytes, clad in robes of white and gold. I spy Wrenley holding a tray of bubbling drinks. Her big blue eyes are wide as she gazes at Dayton.
As she gazes at her mate.
“We were all delighted to see your little performance in the arena today, Daytonales,” Kairyn says. “Would you like to know who you and your little fishy friend will be fighting next?”
“Unless it’s you in full gladiatorial garb showing your ass to the sun, then I don’t really give a shit.”
A low metallic growl sounds through Kairyn’s helm and he gives an agitated gesture with his hand. Hard metal steps sound in the hall, and a looming figure approaches. The newcomer is nearly as tall as Kairyn and plated in coppery armor with a golden spear in his hands. The Bronze Knight, wielding what should be Farron’s Lance of Valor. Farron’s beautiful golden leaf token hangs from the knight’s neck.
“Do you think,” Kairyn’s voice lowers, “the little Autumn Prince will feel his lost relic taking your life? Perhaps he will seek revenge, only to meet the same fate.”
A low growl sounds in Dayton’s chest, and he surges forward, but I grab his arm. “Save it for the arena.”
Dayton stills, muscles tense.
“Just as one day, I will finally put an end to the plague that is my brother with the Hammer of Hope.” Kairyn touches the wooden square, the token of Spring, at his neck.
Now it’s my turn to bite my tongue. After everything Kairyn has done to Ezryn, it’s still not enough.
“You’ll never be the ruler Ezryn was,” Dayton growls, voice low and dangerous.
“Are you implying you know so much about leadership, Daytonales?” Kairyn chuckles. “It’s almost embarrassing how easy it was to take your realm. Damocles would be ashamed.”
“Do not say his name,” Dayton roars. I squeeze his arm.
“You’re nothing more than a shadow of him. A failed remnant of a greater man,” Kairyn says.
I narrow my gaze. If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. Thankfully, Dayton’s pulse has steadied under my touch, and he’s reassumed that blasé look from earlier. Letting Kairyn rile us up will only hurt our cause.
“Look at you, practically a prisoner while I sit upon the throne that was once yours. Do you even know why I’ve brought you here?” Kairyn asks.
