Page 47 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
That was some show.”
Bree poured a goblet of wine, nudging it across the table towards Kora’s empty one.
“I didn’t know he was a viceroy.”
She swiped the golden goblet, hoping it was a peace offering. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear this broken friendship. She’d been ready to sacrifice Blake at the station, setting him free, before Bree had trampled all over her grand gesture.
Swigging the goblet, she coughed, sloshing the hazy, bitter liquid.
“Please. You were doing this for attention. You wanted to make Blake jealous.”
Why would Blake be jealous of Barron? He was old and creepy. Kora spluttered on her wine, downing its soured remains. That wine was off, but she wouldn’t waste a single enticing drop.
“You’ve got to be joking. I didn’t even know he was Admiral Barron until today!”
Bree smirked. Her dress was a vision, its golden opulence dazzling, nearly blinding Kora. A small golden tiara, infused with emeralds, rested on her nest of braids, and Bree flicked them over her shoulder as she poured a second goblet of wine for herself.
“I suppose that’s only something important people would know.”
Kora smashed her goblet down on the table and it cracked around the foot, the marble splintering. She splayed her fingers, hoping to cover the cracks to the valuable table. She’d have to watch that newfound strength.
“Since when . . . did you become such a . . . bitch?”
Her words slurred. Did she just call her friend a bitch? What was wrong with her?
Bree scoffed, her eyes piercing Kora. They flickered to her scar, and her face twisted.
“No point covering up something so . . . ugly. Everyone here knows that you’re nothing. You’re a lost reject, taken under the wing of a notable commodore. You’re a charity case, nothing more. A thorn in the empire’s side. My family’s side. They pity you, Kora. You don’t belong here.”
The familiar haze blanketed her mind, and Bree’s words bounced off it, numbing Kora to her core. She mumbled incoherently, and Bree’s musical laugh filled her ears as she glided away, her skirts trailing on the marble floor, walking like she owned the gods-damned place.
Oh, wait. She fucking did.
Whenever Erick approached, Kora evaded him at every corner, all the while continuously helping herself to goblet after goblet of wine. She twirled across the dancefloor, slipping in the heels, her ankles barking in protest.
Bracing against a marble pillar wreathed in white and green sheets to catch her breath, Blake’s laughter swarmed her ears.
Peering round the pillar, her nerves escalated as the Hydrafort family lingered nearby, dominating the room like royalty. Their gowns and robes matched Blake’s attire of black and green, with Bree centred in the group like a shining, golden nugget. Her parents—Otto and Rashi—beamed at Blake, whilst Bree’s younger siblings, Theodore and Alodie, observed the feast.
She’d spent weeks with them all, visiting Bree when she’d broken her arm a near decade ago. A cold family towards outsiders, but they regarded each other on shiny, towering pedestals. They all still looked like they possessed lances up their arses.
The former sibling exuded disinterest, fidgeting in his suit, pimples marking his adolescent face, whilst Alodie’s huge eyes sparkled, until they landed on Kora, recognition flashing. She tugged on Rashi’s skirt, dainty finger pointing to the pillar, and Kora fled, tripping in her heels as she lunged into the heated dancefloor.
Bodies propelled her across the space, her mind lost in a hazy, bitter sea that left a bad taste in her mouth. She spun and spun, unable to tell which way was up or down, until a pair of thick hands landed on her shoulders.
“Cadell.”
She met panicked, dark chocolate eyes. Black rimmed their edges, and Theron panted, dragging her from the crowd into a shadowed corner leading to the servant’s exit, near the musicians.
“Therrrrrrrron!”
she cheered.
“Wherehaavvee you b-been, matey?”
“Kora?”
Her name was weird on his lips, and she giggled.
“You are three sheets to the wind drunk, snap out of it.”
A glass of water appeared, and he tipped it to her lips.
“Have you seen Ivar?”
He scanned the room as she stumbled in his arms, spilling water down his brown shirt. He wasn’t dressed for a ball, donning simple trousers tucked into laced boots.
“Thisss is a b-ball. What areeeyouu wearrrring?”
“I have been looking for Ivar. Has he been here?”
Kora could feel his pulse beneath his shirt, and it was erratic. She shook her head, and attempted to joke about him needing to visit Koji, but she couldn’t get the words to form on her lips. Thanos, what’s going on, pal?
“Theron, what’s happening?”
Erick appeared, stricken as she swayed in Theron’s embrace. “Kora?”
She rolled her eyes, wiping dribbling water from her mouth.
“What’s happened to her?”
“She’s drunk as a skunk. Have you seen Ivar? I cannot find him.”
Erick cursed, shaking his head.
“You need to get out of here . . . I’ll help . . .”
Their voices faded in and out, her hearing distorting.
“She needs a . . . I’ll find you . . .”
Theron nodded and slipped out the servant’s exit.
Erick tentatively wrapped his arms around Kora, guiding her through the crowd. She glimpsed Samuel in the corner with a hoard of females circling him, blending into one, sparkling, poofy person. Aryn observed nearby, tensing when Erick nodded to him as he assisted her out of the ballroom.
Her pounding headache felt as though her mind was being cleaved in two. Gods, how much had she had to drink? Her vision tunnelled, swimming, and she grumbled at Erick as her stomach threatened to show the whole ballroom how much she’d exactly drunk.
He slipped off her silly shoes and they stumbled up the grand staircase. Tripping on her skirts, Kora fell through her bedroom door with a grunt. She tore at the forsaken gown, suffocating in swaths of shimmering fabric, and collapsed onto the bed. Erick sighed, lifting her feet under the covers before departing.
What felt like hours passed, the room spinning violently before she could fall into slumber. The last thing she saw was a lingering shadow behind her door, and the last thing she felt . . . was a creeping coolness dripping down the side of her face.