Page 25 of Unseen Eye (Aetherian Chronicles #1)

“Then get the resources,” Baron snaps. “Do whatever it takes. We cannot afford any weakness, especially now.”

There’s a pause, and I hear Garet sigh—a deep, tired sound that might’ve once tugged at me. Now it’s just another reminder of how little I care.

“I’m doing everything I can,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. “But the soldiers are stretched thin, and the people are starting to notice. We need to find a way to strengthen our defenses without causing panic.”

Baron’s response is a growl of frustration. “Just make sure it’s done. I won’t tolerate failure.”

Their footsteps fade, and I press against the wall, holding my breath until the sound disappears.

Garet, under pressure and out of options—it’s almost poetic.

For all his calm, collected advice about what needed to be done back when it was my life under scrutiny, now he’s the one scrambling to keep up.

Shadowfiends and hellhounds in Astermiri—just when I thought things couldn’t get stranger.

My heart pounds in my chest as I move quietly down the hall.

I slip into the secret passage Leigh showed me, the cool, familiar tunnel easing the tightness in my chest. I need to understand more.

I need to be prepared. Because it seems like life here enjoys keeping things interesting.

***

The next day dawns with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, as if everyone collectively decided to hold their breath.

Guests have begun to arrive by the thousands, which is one way to ensure the spectacle is a success—distract everyone with an extravagant event so they don’t notice how underprepared I am.

In my room, I stand before the mirror, fighting the wave of nausea twisting my stomach.

Every nerve feels raw, stretched tight with the knowledge that tonight, everyone will be watching me.

I’m a storm inside, trying to keep steady breaths even as panic claws its way to the surface.

I’m still mentally running through the evening’s schedule, planning how to fake my way through it, when Leigh enters, carrying a gown that immediately steals my breath.

“Here it is,” she says, her voice gentle but full of pride as she holds the dress up for me to see. “It’s perfect for tonight. Go on, try it.”

The gown is a deep sapphire, almost black, with an iridescent shimmer that dances in the light.

Its low-cut neckline accentuates my collarbones, while the plunging back reveals more skin than I’m used to.

Tiny, intricate patterns are woven through the fabric, catching the light like constellations.

I can’t help but stare, transfixed by how it gleams, like the dress itself is alive.

I take it from her, the fabric soft and almost weightless against my fingertips. “Low cut in the front and the back? Are you sure this isn’t meant for someone else?” I force a laugh. “I don’t think I’m prepared to accidentally flash the entire kingdom.”

Leigh chuckles, giving me a look of reassurance. “Trust me, Eva. You’ll look stunning. Now, let’s get you into it.”

Once I’m dressed, she guides me to the chair in front of the vanity, and I catch my reflection in the mirror.

The sight almost makes me want to laugh—this glittering gown, this delicate creature staring back.

.. is me? I look, dare I say it, beautiful.

The dress flows around me like starlight, the delicate patterns shimmering with each movement.

But beneath it all, there’s still me: dark bruises under my eyes, barely hidden by powder, revealing the sleepless nights and the guilt that clings stubbornly to me.

Leigh begins working on my hair, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she pins my blonde curls to frame my face. Each pin is placed with care, and she occasionally steps back to assess her work, making minor adjustments, as though crafting me into someone else entirely.

“Tonight is a big night,” Leigh says, her voice soothing. “There will be a lot of festivities leading up to the main event. The king will give a speech, and then, as the eclipse reaches its peak, the ritual will begin.”

I swallow hard, trying to ignore how tight the gown feels, as if even my clothing is a reminder of how out of place I am here. “The ritual. Sounds... fun,” I manage, the nerves twisting again in my stomach.

Leigh chuckles softly. “The eclipse is a powerful time, and a centuries-old tradition.”

I take a deep breath, adjusting to the tightness of the elaborate gown. Time to do what I do best—turn a good conversation awkward. “Leigh, what do you know about how the Abyss Gates were made?” Clearly catching her off guard.

Leigh blinks, her hands momentarily still as she processes the question. “Oh, that’s… quite a topic to delve into,” she replies, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“Someone’s been spending a lot of time in the library,” she jokes lightly before continuing.

“Not much is known about how they were created. I assume that knowledge disappeared when the gods did. For years, my grandfather had the scholars scour the library for anything useful, but there was no success.”

“Why would your grandfather want to know how the gates were made?” I ask.

“Why do you?” Leigh counters.

“Fair point,” I mutter.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, she adds, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I know you’re just trying to learn what you can.”

Her hands resume their work as she meets my eyes in the mirror. “I know this is a lot, Eva. But you’re stronger than you think. Just be yourself tonight. Everything will work out, one way or another.”

I take a deep breath, nodding. “I’ll try. But if I trip and fall on my face, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Leigh says with a grin, finishing the last of the pins. “There, all done. You look beautiful.”

As I stand to face the mirror, I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. I have never felt more beautiful in my life, nor have I ever been so overdressed. My only telling feature is the dark bruises under my eyes, which Leigh’s best efforts couldn’t completely hide.

Sensing what I’m looking at, Leigh comments, “I could try to add some more powder. That might help.”

“No, no it’s fine. When I fail out there, the bruises won’t matter when the king decides to make me an example.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Leigh says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

I nod, grateful for her words but unable to shake the feeling that tonight, I’ll be put on display, my every move scrutinized. And in a gown like this, there’s no hiding.

“Where exactly is the Abyss Gate in Astermiri?” I ask as we leave my bedroom, turning back to face Leigh.

Leigh’s expression turns serious. “I’m not sure if I’m the one you should be asking these questions. But it’s in a secluded area, heavily guarded. Its exact location is known only by a select few.” With that, she opens the door, also known as conversation over.

We walk through the palace halls, our footsteps echoing off the marble floors.

The anticipation of the evening builds with each step.

As we pass through the grand entrance, Leigh leaves me so she can confer with Baron, Garet, and Queen Isolda.

I watch from a distance. Baron looks stern, as usual.

Garet listens intently, his expression as unreadable as ever.

The queen, a vision of elegance, glances my way and offers a kind smile.

I return it, though my nerves flutter in my stomach like they’re training for a sprint.

Deciding to take a moment for myself, and with Emmet keeping his distance, I wander into the gardens, taking in the sights and sounds.

The gardens are a tranquil oasis amid the bustling party.

My fingers trail over the delicate petals of a blooming rose, and I take a deep breath, letting the fragrant air fill my lungs.

As I continue through the gardens, various groups of people are gathered in animated conversation.

Nobles dressed in elegant attire stand under lantern-lit trees, their rich silks and velvets shimmering in the soft light.

The women wear gowns adorned with intricate embroidery and jewels, their hair styled in elaborate updos.

The men, in their finely tailored suits, hold themselves with regal airs, their laughter and conversations oozing confidence and sophistication.

Among the crowd, I notice individuals from different walks of life. Merchants in practical yet finely made clothing, craftsmen with calloused hands, and even a few adventurers with rugged appearances that contrast with the refined atmosphere of the event.

However, it’s the magical beings that truly capture my attention.

Aethereal figures with gossamer wings shimmer in the lantern light, their delicate features and luminescent eyes are absolutely beautiful.

They move with a grace that seems unreal, their laughter like the tinkling of bells.

Across from them, a tall man catches my eye with silver hair and eyes that change color with every blink.

As I stroll further, something catches my eye—GNOMES? They do exist! A group of small, rotund figures with bushy beards and twinkling eyes, their faces animated in lively discussion. They wear vibrant, patchwork clothes, as colorful and whimsical as their personalities.

Rounding a corner, I stop short. Callon stands a few feet away, dressed all in black, his sharp silhouette casting a striking contrast against the lush surroundings.

His bright blue eyes glisten against his dark attire, drawing my gaze and making it hard to look away.

Despite everything Leigh has said about him, I can’t quite see him as the heartless soldier she describes.

If anything, he looks like someone I’d read about in a story—untouchable, intense, yet somehow entirely present.