Page 29 of The Endless Dance

Laska, as usual, works her magic on my hair. She calms it somewhat, though leaves the curls in place as the High Lord desired; the chocolate waves of my hair frame my face, which is lightly decorated with natural shades.

Afterwards, I turn to don the dress Laska had chosen for me earlier. I cringe when I spy the pearl-white garment she has chosen for me.

“I’m going to look like a bride!” I complain. My disdain falls on hollow ears. Literally. Laska frowns and looks at me as if I have lost my damn mind.

“The fae don’t wear white to their weddings,” Rita explains, voice light with humour. “They wear the colours of their Courts. For instance, here in Dawn, we may wear any colour of the rising sun. Pinks and purples, yellows and oranges, the lightest of blues.”

“Much nicer than the harsher tones of those in the Dark Court,” Laska adds, helping me into the dress.

After I am dressed and my handmaids are happy with my attire, I turn to my full-length mirror.

Yikes. I was right. I looked like I was about to walk down the fucking aisle.

It is an extremely simple dress, something I likely would have chosen for myself if the time had ever come. The garment is a slip dress, accentuating my curves as it gently caresses my body before flowing like gentle waves down to my ankles. The neckline is lower than I care for, but covers my breasts with an elegant cowl. The straps were as thin as spaghetti. I imagine them snapping at the barest touch of one of Draekoh’s elongated canines.

I quickly dispel the thought before it can progress.

Laska helps me into a simple set of ballet flats in the same soft white as the dress, having been sent back to change them when she had brought out some ridiculous high heels I would most certainly have broken an ankle in before I had even left the damn room.

Frieda returns as Laska rises.

“It’s time,” she says gently, her battered face painted with a serene mask.

I wanted to tell her I could see straight through it, but didn’t want to upset the older woman.

The castle is bustling with brownies as we make our way to the dining hall.

“Hello Faarshayal!” I call and wave when I spot the little creature bustling by with a handful of dirty linen.

The poor creature squeaks, trips, and its load flies everywhere. I turn to go help the poor thing, but am steered promptly away by Laska.

“Leave it be,” she says in a bored tone. “Let the brownie do its job.”

I roll my eyes, but give Faarshayal an apologetic smile over my shoulder as we continue.

As gentle, rhythmic music reaches my ears, I know we are getting close. My stomach suddenly buzzes with nervous energy. I could have sworn in that moment that Pixel was in my intestines, buzzing relentlessly to be let out. I force myself to swallow, my throat suddenly dry as a husk.

What the fuck was I going to say to the High Lord?

The dining hall has an enormous set of opalescent doors that sit wide open for its guests to come and go as they please. The room itself is obnoxiously large, more like a ballroom than anything, and opens onto a terrace that overlooks the sea. The sound of crashing waves draws my attention, and I immediately want to go outside, if not to listen to the ocean, then to watch its liveliness and freedom.

A hundred fae mingle throughout the room, while two very long tables sit empty at the head, no doubt where we would soon be dining.

“What exactly is expected of me today?” I ask my handmaids. If I had to sit silent and still beside the High Lord, looking pretty all afternoon, I’d go mad.

Before the women and female can answer, an excited “Delta!” sounds over the incessant chatter.

My worries melt away, and I find myself smiling like an overjoyed fool as I search for the owner of that voice.

“Akari!”

I find her quickly, standing by an open doorway leading out to the terrace. She looks beautiful, dressed in a summer yellow gown, much more extravagant than my own. The dress suits her well, and I get the feeling she chose the outfit herself.

Standing beside Akari, and not nearly as excited to see me, is a scowling Platinum. I refuse to let her scathing look ruin my reunion with my dear friend.

We both dash forwards to meet halfway, flinging our arms around one another, giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls. Which, I suppose, Akari technically is. She was meant to be starting college soon; I remind myself. The poor young soul.

“I am so happy to see you, Akari!” I exclaim, leaning back to look at her, though keeping my arms on her shoulders. “How have you been? You look absolutely stunning!”