Page 5 of Avaritia

Tallulah looked up in alarm. “Do I need to hide the metal again?”

“No, no. Astrid brought back that book about electricity and crushed my dreams.” I still liked the idea of going full Benjamin Franklin—and trying to figure out how to turn lightning in a bottle into regular electricity so I could use my hair dryer again—but only in theory.

In practice, I was scared of storms, which was proving to be something of a setback.

“What’s going on then?” Meera pressed. “What’s got you feeling contemplative?”

I shrugged. “Nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Identity crisis, pondering the meaning of it all, the usual. My lack of purpose in life has bothered me since my human-realm days. It’s been flaring up since you all started making names for yourself here.”

“You’ll find where you belong,” Tallulah assured me, voice filled with conviction. “In fact, I’m confident you’ll do more than that. You’re too full of charisma to be destined for anything other than greatness.”

She was very maternal, and while I appreciated her supportiveness, it did feel a bit like the kind of platitudes a loving mother would give her favorite delinquent child.

Tallulah knew I wasn’t destined for greatness. I knew I wasn’t destined for greatness. That weird-looking spiky plant over there knew I wasn’t destined for greatness.

And that was fine. Some of us were solidly destined for mediocrity. It took all sorts.

“Maybe you need to take a leaf out of Austin’s book and explore opportunities away from the palace?” Meera suggested, ever the most pragmatic of the three of us. “Life here at court isn’t exactly full of variety.”

That was true. A very particular kind of Shade lived here—the rich ones—and from our chats with Austin, they had very limited experiences with the world outside the confines of court. And Austin’s life did sound interesting, but he had Selene to guide him. Even with my meager self-preservation instincts, navigating the shadow realm alone sounded like a bad idea.

As always, we were swarmed with suitors the moment we arrived in the garden proper. Usually, it was our little corner of the dining hall that drew all the attention, but apparently, they were going to float around us like a cloud of horny Shades tonight instead.

The fates were really not smiling down on me today because Rigel claimed the spot next to me, immediately launching into… I honestly wasn’t even sure, my brain went full white noise almost instantly.

I wished I liked him. He wasn’t a bad guy. He ate pussy like it was his job, kept my wine goblet full at dinner, and he’d made me a pretty shadow dress for the ball.

All signs pointed toward him being a good partner, but I had a borderline clinical aversion to things that were good for me, so a mating bite from Rigel was never going to happen.

Meera and Tallulah discreetly moved a few feet away—because they also thought Rigel was my best bet—and I turned my attention to the platters of food being circulated by the kitchen staff.

“Oh,” Rigel said dully, plucking an hors d’oeuvre off a passing tray while I did the same. It was some kind of meat resting on top of a dense gray… bread? Cracker? Hockey puck? “They’ve started.”

“Started what?” I asked absently, nibbling on the solid base and trying to decide if I liked it. I was no vegan, but it was what I imagined nut roast tasted like.

“Serving this stuff.” He plucked the meat off the top and popped it in his mouth before tossing the base into a bush. “Animal feed.”

I choked slightly on my gray not-nut roast. “Animal feed?”

“Supposedly, it’s edible. Someone was saying that grains are a staple for Shades who cannot eat an all-meat diet for whatever reason.”

Whatever reason being money, but Rigel was thoughtless in the way that people—and Shades—who’d never known so much as a sniff of poverty in their life tended to be. His snobbery wasn’t malicious, just wildly out of touch.

He continued nattering about animal feed while I ate, stopping to watch a shadow artist who was creating an astoundingly realistic ocean silhouette out of shadows. Now, here was someone destined for greatness.

The king and queen did their formal opening speech and farewelled her guard, which Ophelia had probably told us about during our last sharing circle session but I’d forgotten about, and then we were circulating the gardens again, admiring the artwork. Rigel was hanging around like a bad smell, but I also couldn’t find any more appealing prospects for my store-regeneration work tonight. I’d had high hopes for all the noncourt Shades coming to visit, but apparently, this event was more of a fun day out for the whole family deal.

How unsexy.

“Right,” I sighed, bracing myself for a night of receiving great head like the true martyr I was. “Shall—”

A commotion at the front of the garden, closest to the palace doors, drew everyone’s attention, silence descending over the crowd. I stood up on my toes, but I didn’t have a hope of seeing above the Shades, especially with the sea of horns in the way.

“What’s happening?” I asked as Tallulah and Meera sidled up next to me, a trail of admirers following behind them.

Rigel peered over the crowd before slouching down with a huff. “Nothing interesting. The king’s brother is here.”

Tallulah, Meera, and I exchanged confused glances. The king’s brother was always here. Prince Damen sat next to the king and queen at the high table every night.

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