“Her Radianceisquite vocal,” giggled Raveth of Varrow, syrup-sweet. Her skin, rubbed with oils and perfumes, looked like the finest velvet in this light. “The walls in the Jade Lattice are old, and thin. We’veallheard the screaming. I do wonder what sort of duress Her Radiance must be under to have such vivid nightmares.”
“She walks in her sleep, too,” Nyxen of Iliri added. Her emerald eyes were full of mischief. She blinked, and her long lashes settled like fans over her cheeks. “Imagine the horror of finding the Sokâr barefoot in the halls, pale as a wraith. No wonder His Quintessence looks…strained.”
“Didn’t you learn from last time, Your Radiance?” Zeera purred, leaning in. Her perfect body moved with the grace of a serpent poised to strike. “Ugly things with no form tend to fall when the wind shifts. Next time, it might not be stairs—it might be the Lattice’s edge.”
Auryn inclined her head. “Pain is part of this city.”
“That it is,” Zeera replied, her smile like a razor’s edge. “But some of us are betterBredto bear it.”
“Then We will continue to offer thanks to the Destroyer,” Auryn assured her, “that We werenotBred, but ordained.”
Zeera bit her lip, the bridge of her nose wrinkling.
The music lulled, and Attendants emerged from the shadows to clean the tables and serve fresh wine. Ignoring her own glass, Auryn stood from her seat and circled the room. The Companions stood to make their own rounds, winding through the crowd. Not a single eye was left unaffected. All looked upon their radiant beauty and walked after them, enchanted.
Particularly Zeera, the jewel of Selen. With so much capacity for mana that she’d never lost consciousness during a round of Estâr, no matter how harrowing the ritual. A narrow waist, lush hips, voluminous black hair that fell to her thighs in wild waves, hypnotic movements—she was a vision. Stunning. Like an effigy come to life.
But it was not her looks or Breeding that made her dangerous. It was the way she spoke, lacing every word with mana, overpowering the senses, weaving her will into each syllable. She could have convinced the Council of anything, and she regularly tried. Not directly, but through immense and unshakable influence. With all of Selen behind her, and her own wing built for her in the Prismatum, she was untouchable. Sacred. And her word weighed significantly more than the Sokâr’s.
Auryn tried not to think of all this as an obstacle in this moment. She was aware of the trials ahead, and there remained no time to quake in fear. One way or another, she had to claim her own place in this serpentarium. As she walked, she spotted Lamari Dross idling beside one of the buffet tables, looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else.
As Auryn approached him, he looked up. His pale green eyes narrowed, his spine straightening. She’d only ever seen him from the hidden passage above the Axis Hall. Strange how she could have picked out his voice anywhere, yet she’d never spoken to him directly.
“Councilor,” she greeted. “You appear world-weary this dusk.”
“And Your Radiance is,” he gestured to her with his wine-glass, “worthy of her title. Truly, none expected your attendance, particularly since it has never once been recorded at such events.”
Auryn allowed her lips to curve in the barest hint of a smile. “We were never previously invited to share in the glory of the city’s Companions. However, We believe that from this day forth, invitations shall not go astray when it comes to gatherings like this one.”
Lamari smiled in return, his eyes widening in surprise. “If that is the wish of Your Radiance, I am certain it will come to pass.” He took a sip of his drink. “I witnessed your arrival in the Selen all those decades ago.”
“We are honored you remember.”
“I could hardly forget such a thing,” he admitted. “The Resh’Agar, Arm of the Void, proud in his black regalia leading a child on his arm made of starlight. Hardly anyone would have been left unaffected.”
“A child,” Auryn echoed—soft, not cold.
His eyes flicked to hers, startled. “I meant no slight.”
“Worry not, Councilor. If We were so easily insulted, We could not sit in such proximity to the vipers of this den.”
He glanced at the eight Companions. “You have not touched your glass,” he commented. “I believe I know why.”
A pause.
A silence between them filled with nothing but the undulating music.
And then—
“Lamari,” Auryn began, “We plan to attend Council.”
His eyes took her in. Fully, perhaps, for the first time.
“Why would you tell me this?” he asked. “You would have more advantage if you simply walked in.”
“We would have more advantage if We had a writ with your seal on it, inviting us to discuss topics critical to civic function.”
“Such as,” his voice steadied. He took another sip of his wine.
