Page 35 of Inked in Emeralds (Inkbound #3)

W e stepped into the formal dining room, and as much as I missed my pants and boots, I could’ve kissed Fenwick for sending us clothes to wear because I’d have felt foolish in anything less.

“Fenwick’s house budget must be outrageous,” Billy shook her head. “If I’d known, we should have asked for more options.”

The place was decked out in gold and green from floor to ceiling. The tile floors were patterned squares alternating colors, glittering under the multitude of hanging golden ornate chandeliers.

Wall hangings and floor to ceiling mirrors decked the walls so that if you looked in one, you could see the reflection going on and on behind you. Chairs and settees were strewn about seemingly at random and yet the plush cushioned seats were put together so people could gather and chat at leisure.

I had to hand it to those servants Fenwick had been training when we’d first met, I could’ve found a lash in my eye from the reflection off that goldenware.

A golden food-covered tray whirred slowly past, flying on tiny propellers, and Duncan reached over to snag some kind of miniature puff.

He popped it into his mouth and groaned. “Delicious.”

Before I could grab one myself, Fenwick appeared, looking us up and down with a wide grin.

“You’ve all cleaned up beautifully. Well done.” His gaze lingered on Billy a little too long.

Her eyes narrowed. “Enjoying the view?”

“Absolutely. Though it seems I have yet again failed to impress you…” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Tell me, is it because I’m not fully human? I wouldn’t have expected that to be a problem…”

I drew back and shot a glance at Billy, whose face had gone bone white. Surely, he didn’t know the truth about her. If so, how? Duncan and Hook had both stiffened, and I knew they were wondering the same.

“We’re quite progressive here in Emerald City, you know,” he continued. “Some of our happiest couples are a bit of this, a dash of that. Variety is the spice of life, after all.”

Some of the color returned to her cheeks and she shrugged. “I feel like booze is the only spice I need in my life right now. You want to impress? Buy me a drink.”

Fenwick bowed. “Your wish is my command. Have a seat next to your name cards and I’ll be right back.”

The fox walked off, heading toward the far side of the room as I made my way toward my seat at the long, oval table in the center of the room, doing my best to control the storm of emotions raging inside me.

“You alright?” Hook whispered.

“All good,” I lied. I was a wreck. Now that we were here, I felt the weight of wasting time on my shoulders. I wanted to run back to our rooms and try to figure out the forge, wanted to train, anything but be here. Even though here was where the prophecy waited.

I’d barely made any progress on the forge problem, and now I had to stare into the face of my beloved father, and put aside years of trust to see through to the man behind the curtain.

“Do we think we’re getting the man or the massive talking head tonight?” Billy glanced around the room as if to check that she hadn’t missed him.

“I hope he realizes that would be ridiculous,” Hook replied, settling into his chair to my right as I took my seat.

As big as the table was, his delicious scent still curled around me like an embrace, and I forced myself to breathe through my mouth. The last thing I needed was another distraction.

Duncan nodded. “It certainly wouldn’t endear him to me any. Although I’m not sure there is much that would at this point...”

I glanced around the rest of the table to see only two more place settings but no name cards.

“Only one way to find out.”

Olga stepped into the room with one of the maids, gesturing to a bouquet of flowers with a frown. As the maid scooped up the vase and scurried away with it, the taller, elegant blond headed in our direction toward the doors of the kitchen.

“Excuse me, Olga?” I called out to her.

She slowed, arching a brow at me. “Yes?”

Her tone was cool, and it was clear she was still miffed at us for bullying our way into the solarium together the day before.

“Will The Wizard of Oz be joining us for dinner this evening?”

Her eyes went wide, and a surprised laugh shot out of her mouth.

“Oh, my, no. He doesn’t leave the solarium.

He’s far too busy…” she rolled her hands, “wizarding as wizards do, to spend time socializing and the like. No matter how… important our guests believe themselves to be. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see about the duck.

” Her smile was a little slice of winter as she turned and swept away.

“I guess we won’t be adding her to our list of fans any time soon,” Billy murmured.

I was about to agree when Fenwick stepped back through the arched doorway with a nattily dressed Willy Fallowell by his side, balancing a gleaming copper tray laden with glass goblets filled with deep violet liquid.

The fox set it carefully before Billy, a triumphant smile on his lips as he tried not to drool on her dress. “Ask and you shall receive, my lady.”

Billy took a careful sip, eyes narrowed before widening in surprise. "Blackberry mead," she murmured, raising her glass in a grudging salute in Fenwick’s direction. “Maybe this honey pot thing isn’t so bad after all,” she murmured under her breath.

“You all remember Lord Fallowell,” Fenwick said. Ah, so that’s how it would be played? He was Lord Fallowell now.

Willy smiled mostly in my direction, avoiding even a glance over at Hook and the others.

“He’s agreed to take time from his busy day to break bread with you all on the eve of the trials. Excuse me if you would while I check on dinner.” Fenwick bowed and backed away.

Lord Fallowell wore a fitted waistcoat in a green so dark it was nearly black, and his hair was combed back away from his face. My heart gave a squeeze as he took his seat to my left.

“Good to see you all again,” he said.

The others were silent, so I made sure to lay it on thick with a wide smile and all.

“Good to see you as well! I’m so glad you could make it, what with your busy schedule.”

“How does it work, exactly?” Hook’s gaze was intense as he studied the older man like he was trying to drill directly into his brain. “The Wizard runs the city, and you act as his eyes and ears?”

“Oh no,” the older man said with a cough and a forced chuckle.

“The Great Wizard sees all. I act as a sort of an emissary on his behalf. I travel outside the palace to gather information about any disputes or problems and bring the information back to The Wizard to rule upon. Fenwick makes sure that both I and The,” he cleared his throat, “Wizard have everything we need to do our jobs effectively, handles our work calendars, and oversees all the employees in the house. Olga works under Fenwick, delegating various tasks, and manages most of the day-to-day scheduling and maintenance issues. We run a tight ship, and it works. But enough about me. How has your stay been?” he asked.

“People in the city bothering you much?”

“We’ve been busy, and though people are curious, they haven't bothered us much.” I said.

He shook out his napkin and laid it over his lap. “That’s good.”

I dropped my voice low. “Do you think Almira knows you allowed us in and are helping us?”

He glanced around surreptitiously and then leaned closer.

“Be careful what you say. While I do trust the staff within these walls, Almira does seem to have eyes and ears in the city. That said, I have my own eyes and ears, and I know she’s not returned to Oz yet. I think you’re safe for now.”

“Likely replenishing her strength for another attack,” I whispered.

“More likely, preparing for your arrival in C’an Saas. Now that you’ve made it and are within these walls behind your mother’s protection, she might not bother coming back here.”

He looked so hopeful, and I didn’t want to dash that fragile belief so I stayed quiet. Maybe he was right. But something told me that Almira wasn’t the type to forgive a slight so easily.

Lord Fallowell clapped his hands, startling me. “Ooh, here comes the first course now! We had the chef pull out all the stops for you.”

A whirring sound had my hand going to my hip, but my whip wasn’t there. I half expected some sort of attack. Instead, a neat row of miniature hot air balloons, each with a wicker basket hanging below it, came from the kitchen about three feet apart, gears clicking as they flitted through the air.

Hot air balloons. Like those in Alabaster.

Each was a different color, one the most royal of blues, another vibrant, rich purple.

I couldn't help but smile as they each veered off toward a specific guest around the table.

The deep blue one headed straight for Billy.

I watched in delight as the basket detached from the balloon and dropped to her plate.

Inside the basket sat a colored egg in a matching shade.

She craned her head to peer down at it as the top sprung open to reveal the appetizer inside.

She leaned closer to sniff.

“Savory egg custard,” Lord Fallowell said, his chest puffing with pride as if he’d baked it himself. “The idea for the delivery system was mine.”

Still unwilling to forgive their first meeting, Billy shrugged and dug the spoon in. “As long as you feed me, I don't care how the food gets here, or how pretty it is.”

The rest of the balloons found their diner, a black one heading for Hook, and a crimson one for me.

“To match your boots,” Fallowell said with a smile that took me back to my childhood and squeezed at my heart. As much as I wanted to stay angry at the detached cruelty of his words that night in the solarium, it was hard to separate the two.

I tucked the thought into a dark corner of my brain and focused on the food.