Page 156 of On Wings of Blood

He hadn’t looked at me once.

Unable to help myself, I turned my head and glanced over at the Drakharrow table. It was mostly empty now. Only Blake and Visha remained. They were talking. Did it matter about what?

I sighed. “So, tell me more about the Frostfire Festival.”

“What do you want to know?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know anything about it. Other than that you’ll be playing a solo.”

“That’ll be the highlight of the entire festival,” he joked.

“I’m sure it will be,” I said, giving him an encouraging grin. “What else will happen?”

“You’d be better off asking Florence...” He started to say.

I cut him off with a groan. “That’s what you always say.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Fine. But I’ve never actuallybeento it.”

“I thought Frostfire was celebrated all over Sangratha.”

“It is. But I’m sure Bloodwing’s traditions will be different.” He looked thoughtful. “I know there’s a feast. The Feast of the First Flame. Everyone sits down in the refectory for that on the first night of the festival. If it’s anything like the one back home, there'll be visiting guests and performances. I’ll be performing with the ensemble that night.”

“What else?” I asked. A feast didn’t sound so bad.

“There are some little traditions that they seem to do everywhere. Like ice sculpting contests. Things that are just part of winter. But I’m sure Bloodwing will make an even bigger deal out of them.” He thought for a moment. “And then there's the ball.”

I frowned. “A ball?”

He nodded. “You’ll be expected to go, whether you want to or not. I’m pretty sure it’ll be mandatory since you’re a consort. For the rest of us, well, we don’t have to go but we can be awarded the privilege. Though, for First Years, we can’t attend unless we come with a partner to dance with.”

“So you have to ask Florence,” I said quickly. “Perfect.”

He grimaced. “We’ll see.”

“Is there a theme to this ball?”

He nodded. “It’s called the Dance of the Longest Night. It’s held on the Winter Solstice.”

“A ball, a feast, ice carving.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “None of this sounds especially vampire-ish to me.”

Naveen laughed. “That’s why you should ask Florence about the rest.” His face turned serious. “There is one part of it I just remembered that you probably won’t like. But we’ll all be expected to take part. Even back home, we’d do it.”

My heart sank. “Oh? And what’s that?”

When I got back to my room that night, I found a note that had been slipped under the door.

I unfolded it and read: “Dear blightborn bitch, go fuck yourself. I work alone. I hope you die a slow and painful death in the Games. I can’t wait to watch. Love, Regan.”

CHAPTER 35 - BLAKE

Thank the Bloodmaiden for vampire reflexes. I’d been gawking at Pendragon like a fool, but every time her head seemed to be about to move in my direction, I’d glance away so she’d have no idea.

I’d noticed Regan looking at me strangely once or twice but I didn’t think she’d seen anything. I still glared at her to put her in her place. I was her fucking archon and she knew it.

Things between us were rocky. I mean, they had been all last year, if not before that. But now, with Pendragon thrown into the mix, they were worse. Regan had always been insecure. I think she actually thought her feelings for me were real.

She knew I didn’t reciprocate. Honestly, I found it hard to take her “feelings” for me seriously. I didn’t think they were based on anything more than her hunger for power and status. Being paired with me gave her both. She seemed to think “love” should be part of the bargain. But that wasn’t how it worked. I wasn’t obligated to love her.

---