The wedding ceremony itself is a brief declaration of love, as usual. It’s really the following party that matters to any Karthian. That’s always the part everyone talks about for months after, sometimes even years, so much that certain wedding celebrations become legend right along with people’s favorite festivals. Of course, this wedding could be legendary for a different reason altogether—if the wandering spirit that escaped the Deadlands decides to make an appearance.
As we leave the ceremony site—a cliff near the palace overlooking the sea—I scan the crowd of guests and guards for Kasmira again, hoping I’ve somehow missed her.
“Kas took a turn for the worse last night,” Valoria tells me gravely. “Unlike me.” She walks beside me, her left arm looped through my right, while Meredy holds her other arm. Danial had a breakthrough with her healing sessions last night, and she’s finally able to walk without her cane—though not without a slight limp. Somehow, we allmanage to stay in step as we head into the palace’s largest courtyard, even while surrounded by guards.
“What happened to Kas?” I demand, my throat tight.
“Just the fever being vicious. But don’t you worry. She’s with Azelie now, and—” Valoria breaks off, her brows drawing together. “And the other students.”
“What?” I glance up sharply and accidentally meet Meredy’s eyes. She shares my look of alarm. “And you’re fine with that? What if they all get infected?”
“Azelie needs her help,” Valoria answers vaguely. “Sarika escorted Kasmira from theParadiseto the school for me and is staying to ensure they take every precaution against the fever spreading while Kas is there.”
That seems like an odd task to hand Sarika as part of her lady-in-waiting duties. I listen expectantly for Valoria to say more as we reach the courtyard, where musicians are already playing in anticipation of our arrival.
But instead of explaining further, Valoria spots Bryn hovering near the seven-tier masterpiece of a cake and waves to her, saying under her breath, “I’d better try the cake before Jax gets his hands on it.” Her cheeks turn pink as she hurries off, a squad of Danial’s favorite guards trailing her as closely as loyal hounds.
For a moment, I watch her, then turn my attention to the roaming guards whom I assigned to search for the loose spirit. Before the ceremony, I described to a trusted few of them what a spirit looks like in the Deadlands: gossamer-pale, almost transparent, and usually sporting their death wounds. All evening, they’ll be combing the courtyard and palace grounds to ensure there’s no such uninvited guest among the partygoers.
“I can’t believe Azelie couldn’t put aside whatever she’s researching for one night.” Meredy shakes her head, drawing my gaze back to her. I wonder if she realizes this is the most she’s spoken to me, just me, in days. I lower my eyes so she won’t know how much I’ve missed this. “But I suppose we can forgive her, since she hasn’t known Simeon and Danial nearly as long as the rest of us. Oh—hello, Kat! Hello, Shealea!”
Brightening, she waves at a pair of passing baronesses who are new to Valoria’s council, but not to the palace. Stray flower petals fleck Kat’s long red-brown hair, remnants of the wedding ceremony, and Shealea looks equally festive with a white flower purposefully tucked into her black hair, just behind her ear, and a sparkly silver gown that hugs her willowy frame.
“Fancy seeing you two here!” Baroness Katerina jokes, her pale blue eyes warming as she returns the wave. A white cat with one tabby ear and tail prances jauntily at her heels.
“She should’ve been born a beast master,” Meredy comments in a low voice to me before calling after them, “Care to join us?”
Shealea’s small, dark brown eyes meet mine for a moment, glimmering with regret. As she inclines her head at something—or rather,someone—behind her, I realize the baronesses are on the move to avoid being swept up in conversation with the overbearing young count who appears to be trailing them.
With a strained silence settling over us, Meredy and I watch as the happy couple races arm in arm into the courtyard, both wearing the customary crowns of dried flowers whose blossoms symbolize every aspect of love: lilac for new love, red roses for pure love, pale honeysuckle for the bonds of love, violets for faithful love, and several more besides. While they couldn’t look more opposite—Simeon so blond and tan, Danial with his raven hair and stark white skin—the smiles and glances they keep giving each other let everyone know theybelong together. That, and they’re wearing matching dress robes for the occasion, white trimmed with interlocking silver and gold threads.
I can’t help looking at Meredy and wondering if that could’ve been us someday.
“Time for the crown toss!” Jax calls from across the courtyard. A bright flash meets my eyes as the last shred of daylight glints off the silver flask in his hand. He snags Valoria around the waist with his other hand.
At first, she looks startled. But after a moment, she seems to decide she doesn’t mind and puts her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss him.
I blink. She chose quite the moment for what I have to imagine is their first kiss. I didn’t even think they were together.
To keep from staring, I focus on the crown toss. Danial and Simeon stand in the center of the courtyard and, on Jax’s shouted signal, throw their crowns at the rest of us gathered behind them. I snag Simeon’s crown out of the air as it soars just above my head and turn to grin at Meredy in the thrill of victory.
Her smile is suddenly a little uncertain, and my face burns as I realize why.
Whoever catches the crown is supposed to be close to finding a love of their own.
As she carefully avoids my gaze, I nestle the crown in her wine-red hair and then drop my shaking hands to my sides as the party becomes a blur of torchlights and stars. “There. Now you’ll find your true love soon.”
“Sparrow,” a little girl’s voice says as someone tugs on my skirt. “Why are you crying?”
Glancing down, I meet the doe-brown eyes of Valoria’s youngest sister, Ruthenia, who can’t be more than six years old. I’ll bet anythingthat her other two siblings, a boy and girl in their early teens, are supposed to be keeping an eye on the littlest Wylding, but the two of them appear to have their hands full with glasses of punch and too many treats—much to the irritation of the guards assigned to shadow them. I doubt they’ll get a moment’s rest tonight.
My insides writhing, I answer the young girl with “Weddings tend to do that to people. You’ll see one day, Ruthie. Love hurts.” Hastily grabbing a glass of honeysuckle wine from a passing tray, I drain it in one long gulp. Blinking hard to clear my gaze, I focus on the small blond girl still clutching my skirt. “Let’s dance, shall we?”
As Ruthie nods enthusiastically, I sweep her off her feet and into the wide space left open for dancing. As the wind shifts, a wave of heat washes over us, and we turn in time to see Simeon and Danial tossing the first handfuls of colored powder into the evening’s bonfire.
Ruthie giggles and claps as I spin her around some more and waves at the guard nearest to us. Being at a party where the guards nearly outnumber the guests, and where there could well be a spirit on the loose, doesn’t seem troubling to her young mind, so I try not to let it completely kill my mood, either.
“Fireworks. We need fireworks!” Karston rubs his hands together as he passes us, weaving through the dancers and guards with a purpose. He caught the other flower crown, but instead of giving it away, he’s stuck it on his own head, wearing it with a swagger in his step. I nudge his shoulder and grin as he passes by. His eyes always look darker at night, but as the torchlight catches them, they shift from brown to their true violet—making even me, in all my misery, a little bit breathless.
