Page 216 of Barbi and the Villain

“You will get used to it,” Nyk whispers. “It is always harder the first time.”

“But—”

“We have arrived,” he states as the carriage comes to a halt.

He helps me out and leads me toward the sumptuous entrance of the palace. Gilded marble shadowed by a blood-red sky. Despite my first impression of a fairy tale, it is quite clear I am in hell.

As we step through the arched entrance, we go down a long corridor that is decorated with skulls, bones, and other artifacts. There is a line of people ahead of us, and they all stop to admire the objects on display.

“What are those?”

“Dead Aperite Supremes,” Nykander mentions. “Each House proudly displays their spoils of war, and the House of Jubal has one of the most impressive collections of Supreme memorabilia.”

My mouth drops open in shock.

We walk slowly, following the rest of the guests, but I can’t help the way my gaze is drawn to the barbaric display. Especially now knowing that those are my people. Are any relatives of mine there too? People that my mother would have known? A feeling of disgust settles in my stomach—and we haven’t even reached the ballroom.

All the other guests are wearing masks concealing most of their features. But there seems to be an unspoken rule that everyone knows everyone by the way they interact with each other. It makes me wary about our ruse being discovered before Nyk gets the information he needs.

“Chin up, Barbi. You cannot let them know you are afraid,” Nyk murmurs in my ear.

I gulp down in uncertainty, but I nod my assent, doing as he says.

After a long meandering through the hallway full of war spoils, we finally reach the main ballroom. My mouth drops open in shock. The ceiling must be twenty feet tall. The walls are painted a dark red, which is complemented by gilded accessories. Six huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their brilliance enveloping the entire room in a bright light.

The floor is a hard wood accompanied by the occasional blood red carpet.

On all sides of the ballroom, there are tables with food and drink, but there are no seating arrangements, suggesting this is a standing event not a sitting one.

The ballroom quickly fills up. By my estimations, there must be a couple hundred people in here.

With everyone busy greeting each other, Nykander leads me in the back to one of the refreshment tables. Handing me a glass, he pretends to make conversation while he surreptitiously studies his surroundings.

“Do you see your family?” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Not yet. I assume they will arrive later since they are from the bride’s side.”

I nod. “Do you know anyone else here?”

His lips curve up. “I know everyone here. Which is why I cannot be seen or recognized.”

“Even with the mask…?”

“I will not take any chances,” he mutters, not looking at me. “Stay here. Nurse your drink. Grab a bite to eat. But most importantly, do not talk to people. I will be back shortly. Is that clear?”

“You are already leaving?” My eyes widen.

“I need to finish this fast,” he mentions as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “I will come back for you here, so do not wander too much.”

With that, he turns his back to me and leaves. I follow his retreating figure until I lose him amid the sea of guests.

A shudder of discomfort goes down my back.

I knew what to expect, but I did not anticipate I would feel so out of place.

Taking his advice, I turn to the table and study the offerings. I grab a plate and fill it with some food that looks remotely familiar—meat, eggs, and a few snacks—after which I grab a glass of wine.

“Pelopia is so lucky that Armand wants to marry her,” a voice speaks. A group of girls gathers close to the refreshments table and fills their plates with food.

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