Page 93 of The Sundered Realms

And that seemed to trigger all her training, so she managed to speak without sounding like her brain had melted and move like she still had bones and muscles with some grace and wasn’t just made of liquid fire.

Liris smiled and squeezed his hand. “As are you. Shall we see if Tellianghu can manage to impress us now?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

Turning toward the Gate, Liris released his hand: she was his partner, and didn’t need to lean on his support in this kind of situation.

This time, she’d prove she could stand on her own and support him.

The three of them crossed through the Gate—from this side it looked like braided mother-of-pearl, shimmering with the snow, and Liris couldn’t help wondering if they switched it out for a different Gate structure in summer months.

She was surprised there were hardly any guards. Tellianghu was so confident in their wealth to afford any defensive measures it oddly made her nervous for them rather than of them.

That seemed like the kind of arrogance a person as smart as Jadrhun could exploit.

Liris’ second thought was for the picture Tellianghu’s winter palace made.

They’d crossed directly into the snowy mountains, onto a platform thick enough to disguise the enormous amount of spellcraft that had to be operating underneath. Vhannor shrugged minutely at Liris’ annoyance; they wouldn’t be able to inspect the spells without some difficulty, but if the platform became relevant, well, they were already planning to come back this way.

Efficient staff escorted them into a spell-powered—heated—cable car, floating in an elegant white line down the mountains with a perfect view of the palace, with so many lit windows it appeared to glow in the darkness.

Liris absentmindedly explained to Shry that this Gate was one of Tellianghu’s few portals that wasn’t in an obviously trade-optimal location. Once upon a time these mountains and Tellianghu’s original cable car spell had been a prime source of ice trade, before spells became common enough to render that obsolete. So now they brought in trade here by making this Gate a travel destination, centered every year on the ball at the palace.

Traders and vendors who did business at other hubs in Tellianghu competed with favors to be invited to serve at the ball each year with free giveaways, because a selection of the wealthiest, most important people in the Sundered Realms would attend the ball every year.

And because that set would attend every year, Tellianghu could charge them enormous fees for admittance to not miss out on the interplay of their competitors, and they would always pay for access to the exclusive event.

The Gate dealt with no unrelated traffic in order to keep it a surprise to guests each year. No one outside Tellianghu would know what went on here year-round.

Liris’ heels never brushed the snow as they entered: the car had delivered them into some kind of bubble. She exchanged glances with Vhannor as staff led them to the ballroom.

The hallway was bright, a window every step to give the impression of one continuous view of the snowy mountain peaks. A lantern in an alcove above each made the corridor well-lit, accentuating the gleamingly polished walls, empty but for tendrils of the same summer flowers.

Because its very untouchability and lavish expense of spellcraft was precisely what Tellianghu had to offer. Nothing of character, nothing unique but its wealth, which gave them access to the best of what any realm had to offer.

It was the polar opposite of the experience of walking through the familiar halls of Serenthuar, and arguably matched the pristine tack she’d taken in her own presentation, so Liris was surprised how much she completely and utterly hated it.

This time, she walked with a partner at her side and a friend at her back, and she would not let them down.

At a pair of solid gold doors bearing Tellianghu’s crest, two caster-guards triggered the spell to fling the doors open for them.

The summer flowers wove in designs around the walls and through the air, threaded with glass globes of magical light that cast the ballroom into relief. One side of the room was lined with food stations, delicacies from all around the Sundered Realms, the opposite with small demonstrations of technologies or crafts. On the far side was a musical band and behind them an enormous ice sculpture of a bouquet of summer flowers, with every contour and drop of dew frozen. In the very center of the dance floor was a square that looked like a mosaic of shining ice, and people mingled around it and on a balcony level that circled the room above.

When the gold doors swung open, only a few of those closest turned. A herald blinked at their titles but was too well-trained to pause before transmitting the announcement throughout the ballroom.

“Vhannor, Lord of Embhullor. Shryandimez, Lady of Embhullor. Liris, Envoy from Serenthuar.”

Then heads turned.

Serenthuar ambassadors were rare, their accomplishments widely publicized. While Liris had not claimed that title—a decision that twisted like a knife, because she did deserve it and knew that but nevertheless had not been granted it—citizens of Serenthuar with different titles did not make their way out of Serenthuar.

And anyone who did know of her would have instructions to capture her.

Liris waited a breathless, frozen moment, in full view of the assembled elite of the Sundered Realms, to be struck down.

When it didn’t come, she closed her eyes; took a breath. Opened them, and moved, gliding forward through the array of colors and costumes from nearly every pocket of the Sundered Realms like she was in a spell trance, like part of Liris was out of her body and it was just performing as she directed.

And Vhannor, gods bless that man, kept pace with her, stood right by her side as Liris strode into the fray and it closed around them both.

---