Page 44 of House of Embers (Royal Houses #5)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Ball

“Stop moving,” Viviana told Kerrigan for the third time. Her eyes flickered between the portrait of Anya’s niece and Kerrigan’s face.

“Sorry,” she said, stilling under her ministrations.

It was one thing to have Viviana on Ordrax’s back, which was still odd, but it was another to have Viviana working glamours on Kerrigan’s face.

When Ordrax had suggested it, Viviana had looked offended that he had given up the secrets from her mother’s family.

Apparently she had been perfecting glamours since she was a child to make herself look more beautiful.

It was one of the ways that she had become queen in the first place.

And now they were using the talent to alter Kerrigan’s and Fordham’s appearance for the ball.

“You look wild ,” Clover said with a shake of her head.

It was good to see her friend again. It had been too long since they were together. Even here, it felt strange that they were in the Van Horn manor home and not in the Dregs. But Anya and Alura Van Horn were Kerrigan’s escorts for the evening.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Kerrigan agreed.

If she hadn’t been watching her face transform before her eyes, she might not have believed that Viviana was turning her into Anya’s young niece.

Her eyes were no longer a vivid green but brown.

She had a rounder face, sans freckles. Her nose had been elongated and lifted at the tip.

Her mouth was smaller, lips thinner, chin sunken back.

Her jawline had flattened. Her hair was now an unrecognizable brown and straight as a board.

And her ears. Well, her ears were now longer and sharper—full-blooded Fae ears and not her daintier little half-Fae ears. She hated them.

In the drab green dress she’d procured, she could have been anyone. Anyone but herself.

Fordham had also been changed to look inches shorter than he was and like he had shoulder-length blond hair and plain brown eyes. He wore a navy suit to match the Bryonican colors and had left earlier to enter the party with Sonali of Bryonica.

Kerrigan hated the glamour even if it was necessary. Since the Red Masks were throwing the party, the thing was a masquerade as well. She slipped on the silver mask over her new features and was glad for that last layer of protection.

“The glamour isn’t going to last as long as you want,” Viviana told her. “So you are going to have to be as quick as possible. I won’t be there to top you off.”

“We’ll be fast,” Kerrigan assured her.

“Done,” Viviana said. “You look excellent if I do say so.”

Kerrigan glanced at herself one more time and made a face. “I look perfectly ordinary.”

Viviana laughed. “So no change?”

“Wow, thanks,” Kerrigan said as she pushed her shoulder gently. It was a joke, and Kerrigan couldn’t believe she was actually joking with Viviana. Bonding with Ordrax had completely altered her personality or perhaps just given her enough purpose to put the rest of her schemes aside.

“I wish you could have brought Darby,” Clover said on a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Kerrigan said, taking her friend’s hand. “I know you wanted to see her, but do you want me to bring her into danger?”

“No,” Clover said softly.

Viviana tapped an imaginary watch. “Time is ticking.”

Kerrigan clicked her bracelet, and a small door opened in the middle of Anya’s sitting room. It led Viviana back to where the dragons were waiting.

“You’re getting better at this portal thing,” Viviana told her.

“Uh, thanks,” Kerrigan said.

Viviana lifted a shoulder as if she hadn’t paid her a compliment. “You could always jump Darby here and back.”

“It takes a lot of effort.” Then Kerrigan saw the sadness in Clover’s eyes and reconsidered. “But we can try, okay?”

“Sure.”

Viviana stepped through the portal. “Good luck.”

The portal clicked closed with another twist of the bangle, leaving Kerrigan alone with Clover, who reached for a loch cigarette.

She’d found a supplier in the city and had offered to send some back for Amond if he needed it, but he’d been fully clean since he’d been almost too drugged up to heal Kerrigan’s injury. She hoped he meant it this time.

“Anya will kill you if you smoke that in here,” Kerrigan told her.

Clover groaned, stuffing the cigarette back away. “Just be careful in there. Gerrond has me convinced this is a trap.”

“Gerrond probably isn’t wrong, but we still need to go.”

“I know.” Clover tugged her in for a hug. “He’s going to give you the all clear once Bastian has left. Don’t move until you get his go-ahead.”

“I know the plan, Clover,” Kerrigan told her with a smile. “And you’re heading into danger too. So look out for yourself.”

Clover waved her hand. “Nothing like the belly of the beast.”

Kerrigan couldn’t argue that, but Clover was leading drifters and her human recruits into a battle they’d never faced before. Kerrigan trusted Fordham with her life. She wasn’t sure about all these new magic wielders. It was going to be a good test.

Clover tipped her head to the side, and Kerrigan followed her out of the room and down the hall.

“How are you holding up anyway? I’m sorry about Thea,” Kerrigan said.

Clover sighed. “It’s been hard alone. I have all these recruits, and I worry I’m only training them to die.”

“Tell me about it,” Kerrigan said. “All these new dragon riders, and they’re all on my shoulders. It’s terrible.”

“The worst. Why should we have people’s lives in our hands?”

“I try not to ask the question too much or else I get paralyzed.”

“Yeah. It’d be easier if I was near you.”

“And Hadrian and Darby.”

“Yeah,” Clover said as she finished her cigarette. “That certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

Hadrian and Fallon had stayed in Galanthea. Fallon had bonded a dragon back home, forging the alliance anew. Kerrigan would check in with them again after tonight was over—so long as it went well.

They stopped at the base of the stairs to find Alura Van Horn standing in wait.

She was a tall, onyx-toned Fae who was formidable on a good day, and today she looked every inch the military general in a silver metal corset in the style of a dragon’s scales and fitted trousers, a matching silver cane in her right hand that she leaned against. She had a Society emblem on her breast that indicated she was a council member.

She and Kerrigan both were. Well, before Bastian had stolen Kerrigan’s magic and tried to kill her.

Before that, Alura had won the dragon tournament and then trained Kerrigan’s contingent of riders.

They’d flown into battle together. She had saved Alura’s life, leading to her permanent injury. They were as close as riders could be.

Until Kerrigan had accused her father, Lorian, of treason and gotten him executed. She had believed she was in the right only to discover that it was a Red Mask conspiracy and Lorian was innocent. She wasn’t sure Alura would ever forgive her. Even if they were on the same side.

“She won’t stop giggling,” Alura said in greeting.

“Who?” Kerrigan asked, her eyes lifting to the stairs to find Anya Van Horn with her hand on Kerrigan’s father’s arm. “Oh.”

“I think they’re happy,” Alura said on a sigh. “I can’t begrudge anyone happiness with the world in utter chaos, but must it be with your father?”

“Kivrin!” Anya said with another giggle. “Stop.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Clover said.

Kerrigan tapped her fingers against the banister.

Alura was right. As weird as it was—and it must have been stranger for Alura—it was good to see them happy.

Kivrin had a blinding smile on his face as if all his dreams had suddenly come true, and Anya was practically glowing as they descended the stairs.

“Well,” Anya said when she got a look at the trio, “Kerrigan, you look just like Saffi. Doesn’t she, Alura?”

“Uncanny,” Alura deadpanned.

Kerrigan breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“Now remember, Saffi is really my stepniece. She’s the stepdaughter to Lorian’s brother’s new wife. She hasn’t come out in society yet. She’ll be young and impressionable.”

“I can manage,” Kerrigan assured her.

“Are you ready?” Alura asked.

Anya turned her face to Kivrin. “Yes, of course.”

Kivrin brought Anya’s hand to his mouth and placed a kiss. “Until I see you again.”

She giggled. Again.

Alura rolled her eyes and headed toward the door, leaning heavily on her cane.

“Take good care of her,” Clover said.

“Have her back before midnight,” Kivrin said with a smirk.

Anya smiled wider. “I will do my best.” She touched Clover’s arm. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Clover said, her voice thick.

Then Kivrin held his arms out for his daughter. “I love you, Kerrigan Felicity.”

Kerrigan breathed in the musky scent of her father—the man she never thought she would have this relationship with—and a tear came to her eye. “I love you too.”

Anya smiled at Kivrin once more and then took Kerrigan by the arm. Together they walked out into the open air—Kerrigan breathed in her city, her home—and then into Anya’s carriage, heading toward the mountain.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Alura asked.

“No,” Kerrigan said slowly. Her eyes met Alura’s across the carriage.

“The last time they got all of us together in the arena, they killed all dissenters,” Alura pointed out, as if Kerrigan needed the reminder. “It’s possible that Bastian is doing this again, that he’s trying to find you.”

“I know.” Kerrigan had considered that possibility. “But I know Bastian too well.”

“Not well enough to know he was the leader of the Red Masks.”

“Alura!” Anya argued.

Kerrigan’s cheeks burned. “No, she’s right. I just think I know him, but the Fae I did know wants to be liked. He wants people to come together. He will use this ball to try to regain some sense of control. He knows he’s losing the houses, and he can’t afford civil war.”

“Well, that much is true,” Alura said. “He’s been a real nightmare since you disappeared and even worse since you got back. I hate that I have to play this role with him.”