Page 136 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Every time Vega got close to convincing herself there was another way, she came to the same conclusion… she needed to move forward with her plan, regardless of how mad Arlet and Khort would be. Vega couldn’t wait—there was no time to wait.

Not when Marlena was about to start the war everyone had been waiting for.

As badly as she wanted to leave right now, she couldn’t sneak out on a night like tonight. But maybe when everyone is drunk and not paying attention. Vega’s mind was made up.

Books, tomes, and letters were scattered across the floor of her tiny room, and Vega was sitting in the middle. She took inventory of everything around her, jetting air through pursed lips. A knock at the door yanked her out of scholar-mode. “Come in,” she called, turning her head to see Arlet stepping through the door.

“What are you doing?” she rasped.

Arlet was dressed in an off the shoulder gown with a sweetheart neckline, the color gold with jewels that shimmered with her every move. Fringe started at her hip, cascading down her long legs in a flowing fit. Arlet’s bouncy curls were pulled out of her face in an updo.

Arlet looked like every god they had learned to pray to growing up—like the god she had become.

Lifting herself off the floor, Vega gave Arlet an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I got distracted, but look, I’m dressed and ready!” She gestured towards the mess on the floor and then to herself. Vega stored all of the information she’d been thrumming through in a safe spot inside her dresser. “You look beautiful, Arlie.” Vega walked over to her and reached out to run a hand over the straps hanging off her arm.

Arlet’s annoyance fizzled out when their eyes met. “It’s been so long since we’ve celebrated Saturnalia together.” Her eyes raked up Vega’s body, and she reached out to straighten her dress where it was bunched from sitting on the floor.

It was made just for her. The straps were thin, the neckline plunging below her sternum, with the same V-shape diving down her back. The sheer black fabric allowed for her black undergarments to be seen, a fact that would have made her flustered in any life on Earth—but here in Tolevarre, it made her feel fierce and every bit of the lethal woman she was learning to become again. Similar to Arlet’s dress, Vega had jewels of her own littering the gossamer material, but they were as black as her dress and only sparkled under the right lighting.

She kept her dark hair down, no braids to hold her hair out of her face tonight.

“Since Bridger’s last year with us,” Vega said, exhaling. The celebration had been nothing like the one Castra was throwing tonight.

“Don’t,” Arlet said, reaching out to brush Vega’s cheek. “Don’t let him ruin this night for you.”

He already has.

“I won’t,” Vega said instead. But her brain couldn’t stop thinking about him, about how he’d let her go or about the look in his eyes after she’d kissed him and drove her dagger through his chest—how she’d used him as an experiment. She reached out and grabbed Arlet’s hand. “Let’s go. We’re already late.”

They were the only two left in the halls, everyone else making sure not to be late. Vega could hear the thrum of the music as they approached the room she still thought felt like a fishbowl. The residents of Castra had decorated the inside with sparkling string lights and wreaths made of natural growth from the land over a mile above them, and whoever was musically talented spent their night entertaining their neighbors.

Happy laughter floated through the air, smiles on faces around them as people said their hellos. Vega grabbed them two flutes of bubbly wine from a table and tapped her glass against Arlet’s before taking her first sip.

It tasted like Saturnalia.

She hadn’t been drinking since the return of her memories—she hadn’t had time, and really, she hadn’t felt the need. When her life was falling apart on Earth, it was the way she coped with having nothing to live for. This Vega not only had something to live and fight for—but something to die for too.

Arlet pulled her onto the dance floor after another glass of bubbles, just in time for the band to start a song with an all too familiar tempo. Couples shuffled to the floor, but Vega’s eyes blurred over with tears, unable to focus on anyone but her best friend.

“What did you do?” Vega bubbled with laughter as the crescendo of the music picked up.

Amusement rippled out of Arlet. “I might have taught them a new song.”

“Over My Head (Cable Car)” was being played by the band, and Vega couldn’t contain the tears spilling over.

“No! No crying, only dancing!”

The girls danced, screaming the lyrics only they knew at the top of their lungs. They didn’t pay attention to the eyes on them, didn’t care what people thought. For a moment in time, there was nothing for them to worry about—they were just two best friends, singing their favorite song, lost in a moment neither of them ever thought they’d have.

Khort joined them at some point, the three of them spinning each other around, their smiles so big it was hard to remember a time when they weren’t all happy and safe. Hours passed, and Vega hadn’t thought about what she was about to do tonight—about the deception that was bubbling under the surface.

Eventually, Arlet sauntered off somewhere, leaving Vega and Khort alone. “Do you remember the Saturnalia we spent in Vates with Arlet and her family? The one right before they left?” Vega questioned.

Khort placed his hand on the small of Vega’s back, pulling her in while they danced to a slow song. “Yeah, what about it?” he asked, dipping his head to meet her eyes.

Vega contemplated if she should mention this tidbit of information or not. The little voice in her head told her not to, but the beating in her chest pushed her forward. “That night your mom came to me and told me how happy it would make her to see us together.” Vega’s voice was low enough only Khort could hear her.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, eyes stirring with wonder.

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