Page 8
Farron
I ’ve returned to my favorite spot in the ballroom of Soltide Keep with the usual company: the marble busts. Poor Aeneas has been repaired, his shards held together with gold filament. Not to defend my clumsiness, but I can’t help thinking it makes him even more beautiful.
The Farewell Gala is in full swing, lively music filtering through the ballroom, rich food served on platters, and my family getting in their last bits of mingling before we depart.
Tomorrow morning, we’ll be on the road to Coppershire.
The weeks spent in Summer, filled with late-night rendezvous, sights I’d only read about, and kisses that sent my mind spiraling, will become nothing but a memory.
A memory that will fade, as the bright green leaves of summer fade to withered husks in autumn.
I feel a tug at my tunic and spin, but there’s no one there.
There’s a pull on my other side and a little giggle.
I look over my other shoulder, but again, there’s no one, though I spot a patch of reddish-brown hair poking out from behind Aeneas’s bust. Not in the mood to play, I lunge forward, snatching my brothers, Dom and Billy, from their hiding place.
“Go find someone else to bother,” I growl.
“Aw, you’re no fun tonight.” Dom shoves his hands in his pockets. The twins would be identical if not for the differences in the spattering of freckles dusted across their faces.
Billy kicks the base of Aeneas’s bust, sending him wobbling again. “Yeah, you’re all mopey.”
I steady the statue and glare at them. “Sorry, I don’t feel like being the target for your pranks.”
Dom nudges his twin. “I found a crab down on the beach. Let’s go sneak it into the big one’s pocket.” They skuttle off across the ballroom toward Damocles.
I sigh, digging my hands in my pockets, not caring how much of a child I must look. My brothers are right. I am grumpy.
I don’t know how to fake a smile when my heart feels as if it’s breaking.
It’s not only that we’re leaving tomorrow, my moments with Dayton falling away like leaves upon the wind. It’s that I’m leaving like this .
Dayton’s leaning against a wall toward the back of the ballroom, the full moon’s light shining through and basking his face in its milky glow.
I’ve known his exact location since the ball started, known what he’s had to drink and eat, what songs he’s danced to, and who he’s spoken to, because I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him once.
And I know he hasn’t looked my way.
Because I don’t exist to Dayton when our families are around. He’ll roughhouse with my brothers, listen to my sister’s rambling, spar with my father, debate with my mother, but I could be a ghost to him. A story as unbelievable as Captain Katharine’s creature.
Not that Dayton’s lacking for company. Right now, a gaggle of women surround him, fluttering their eyelashes and stroking his arm at every opportunity. Dayton’s got that curved grin on his face that I can’t stand. The charming, roguish, oh-so-fake smile.
Maybe I’m the idiot for thinking the one he’d been giving me all these weeks wasn’t fake, too.
The only person at this party who appears to be more miserable than me is Damocles. So, Dayton got his way. His big brother and my mother won’t have the satisfaction of running yet another aspect of our lives.
We made this decision together, didn’t we?
So why do I feel so out of control?
My hands tremble, and my breathing becomes so rapid that I struggle to catch my breath.
How am I to return home like this, in this state of misery?
Never knowing which part of Dayton was the truth: the one that stares at me with stars in his eyes when we’re alone, or the one who treats me like a plague boil in front of our families.
Maybe all the days we spent together meant nothing to him, but they meant a lot to me. Dayton did something to me. Stoked the embers within my heart until they were desperate for kindling. And if I don’t figure out what I mean to Dayton, those embers are going to burn me from the inside out.
Hands clenched into fists, I search the ballroom until I see the second-born Prince of Summer, Decimus. He’s at the buffet table, filling a plate with olives and figs. I speed walk out onto the dance floor, narrowly avoiding being swept into a twirl by one of the guests.
“Decimus,” I say as I approach, voice surprisingly steady.
“Farron!” Decimus holds out his plate. “Fig?”
“No, thank you. Can you give your brother a message from me?”
Decimus lowers his plate to the table and turns to face me head-on. He’s taller than me, heavily muscled from years in the arena. A rippled scar runs across his collarbone. Kindness flashes in his dark brown eyes. “Dayton?”
I don’t know how he knows I meant Dayton and not Damocles, but I nod. I need to get the words out now before I lose my nerve. “Tell Dayton…I’m ready to jump, and I’m not afraid of the water. The treasure awaits, and he gave me the push I needed.”
Decimus raises a brow. “What?”
“Tell him exactly that! Either he’ll understand or he won’t.” I turn away from him and walk as fast as I can to the door. My heart beats in a terrified rhythm, but I need to do this.
By the end of the night, either I’ll understand…or I won’t.