Page 68 of Hunger & Harmony

“This seems . . .” I hesitate to find the right word for the outfit she’s helped me into. “I mean, I think it’s a bit too romantic, right?”

Lorelai raises a brow at me through the floor-length mirror.

“What? This is standard for Court performances,” she says. “You know, the symphonic ritual to the Vox Crown? I told you this yesterday.”

A symphonic . . .what?

“The final show is a ritual?”

Her jaw can’t get any lower.

“Cadie, are you a couple sandwiches short of a picnic?”

I blink at her. She stares back.

“Uh . . .I guess I didn’t understand,” I say, meaning every bit of that.

There’s so much to vampire society. It doesn’t help that Sancte Noctis itself is setting me up to fail, and I can’t remember the rules and protocols.

“Ugh . . .”

Lorelai groans before she physically finds her center, hands clapping together as she releases a breath.

“Okay!” she says, already back to fussing with the curls she wove into my hair. “Whatever. Just be compliant and helpful, and we’ll make it through.”

That can’t be enough, right? Except she’s already moving on, and we have mere minutes before leaving. We barely had time to shower and eat, yet all this time was taken up by getting dressed.

When I turn back to the mirror, my red lips twist into a pout. I hate how pretty I look. While Lorelai is draped in modest, dark layers, she dolled me up in crimson silk. This dress feels like it belongs to a vintage starlet. Like the main character in a tragedy.

Lustrous fabric smooths down my calves, moving with my body as I twist black, tulle gloves together. Every detail is darling, from the sweetheart neckline to both puffed sleeves lined with ruffled trim and delicate ribbons. Lorelai pinned my hair half up, half down, with a matching rouge bow fastening it together.

I look coquettish, like a present wrapped in silken seduction. It betrays every needle stabbed into my heart. Why am I dressed like this? Is it really customary for some human nobody to wear this?

Another bottle has to join the others in the back corner of my mind. I label it ‘anger.’

“We don’t have all evening, c’mon,” Lorelai says, putting back her makeup case and gathering our things.

When I grab my phone off her nightstand, she plucks it from my grasp.

“Only approved personnel are allowed devices that can record.”

While it makes sense, unease clings to my skin as she tucks it into her suitcase. Maybe I’m being ridiculous. Who would I call? What could they do?

Another bottle joins my mind’s collection, and I follow after Lorelai. Cass is already waiting outside our rooms, his outfit similar to hers. I don’t have time to question it when I spot familiar green eyes.

“Ez!”

“Long time, no—wow!” He glances me up and down. “I mean, you’re always pretty, but damn.”

I’m still upset about it, but his compliment eases the sting. I hurry into his arms for a big hug, always surprised by how warm he feels.

“Shit, now I feel underdressed,” he says, chuckling as I pull back.

Never mind how lavish he looks. Black cuts around his waist over a billowing, storm-green shirt, the corset structured while his smoky eyes and blond curls stay wild. He’s predatory grace in leather and muslin.

“Don’t lie! You could make a potato sack look glamorous,” I say, and his fangs gleam in his grin.

“Aw, shucks.”