Page 35 of All the Chaos of Constellations
“Your Highness.” Novalise dropped into a low curtsy, unaware of how long the prince had been standing directly behind her.
Curving lanterns hung from posts all throughout the courtyard and the amber light flickered across him, dousing half of him in shadows. He didn’t lookather, instead his cold gaze was trained on the night sky.
“Be careful there,” he warned.
With the hues of dusk settling around them, the prince looked downright nefarious.
“Wh-what do you mean, Your Highness?” Unease hung heavy around Novalise’s shoulders.
Prince Aspen’s dark gaze flicked to her. “The Prince of Brackroth always gets his way.”
* * *
Novalise almost forgothow much she loved visiting Terensel.
Even though the sky was painted in watercolor shades of amethyst and sapphire, Terensel was a lush landscape of emerald and gold. Cascading waterfalls dropped into sparkling faerie pools, breaking up the spiraling trees twisting up from the ground. Homes were built into the rolling hillsides and covered with vines, blending in with the earth. Dirt paths wound throughout the city, illuminated by strings of glowing orbs to light the way.
Unlike House Celestine, which was built into a mountain face, House Terensel was built around a massive tree. Fuchsia flowers blossomed from nearly every branch, its majestic height towering over every other tree. Rooms were on multiple levels, the entrances easy to spot with their pointed doorframes, and wooden balconies jutted out from the trunk, covered by blankets of lilacs.
The Yavanna Ball was being held in the clearing within the woods, an elegant choice meant to coincide perfectly with Queen Elowyn’s enchanted forest theme.
“Have you ever seen anything so magical?” Sarelle leaned over, sipping her berry wine, her eyes a reflection of the dazzling faerie fire lights twinkling around them.
“It’s even more lovely than Queen Elowyn’s party, if I dare say so.” Novalise glanced around the clearing. A ring of vibrant blossoms and glittering light surrounded the forest floor. Everywhere she looked, fae, mortals, and all manner of beings danced with lively merriment. A stage had been constructed at the edge of the woods where musicians played a spirited tune, tapping their feet in rhythm while couples twirled within the circle. “The music is definitely superior.”
“Oh, I agree.” Sarelle fiddled with the strand of teardrop diamonds dangling from her ear. “Where are Nyxian and Tovian?”
“They’re not here tonight.” Novalise scanned the crowd, spying the rest of her siblings.
Ariesian and Solarius were standing across the way in a deep conversation with Lord Everland, and none of them looked pleased about it. Caelian and Creslyn were in the center of the faerie ring, dancing without a care in the world. Moonflowers rained down upon Caelian, their silver petals sparkling like droplets of moonlight as her magic rose and fell to the cadence of the song. Her head fell back in laughter as she sang along. Creslyn spun right beside her, holding the skirts of her pale pink gown, as sparks of sunlight and ribbons of rainbows twirled around her.
“Nyxian and Tovian never miss a party.” Sarelle took another sip of her wine. “I thought for sure they would be here tonight.”
“Ariesian sent them off on some errands. Apparently, they’re to sail with a High Prince of Faeven to one of the eastern realms.” Novalise would be lying if she said she cared much for political dealings, but Ariesian had been oddly discreet, and that in particular had snared her attention. “It sounded as though they will be gone for quite some time.”
“How strange.” Sarelle’s brow furrowed. “It’s not like them to leave without saying goodbye. Whatever adventure they’re on must be quite important.”
Novalise turned to face her sister and leaned over conspiratorially. “I thought so, too. Aeramere doesn’t have ships of any kind. I wonder if maybe they’re sailing to set up a trade route or researching the possibility of establishing a naval fleet.”
Sarelle’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Or maybe they’re going to fight fae pirates.”
Novalise snorted. It was a decidedly unladylike noise, but she couldn’t help herself. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as faerie pirates.”
Sarelle’s smile fell away, her pallor blanched, and her gaze lingered on something behind Novalise.
“Sarelle? I didn’t mean it, of course fae pirates exist.” Novalise hadn’t intended to hurt her sister’s feelings, but when Sarelle failed to smile, and all the blood had drained from her face, Novalise turned to see what caught her attention.
It was Prince Drake.
He stalked through the crowd and was heading straight for her. His attire wasn’t nearly as formal as the other males in attendance. Instead of a trim coat with elegant pants and shining boots, he wore a gray collared shirt with the top button undone and the cuffs rolled, tucked loosely into a pair of riding leathers. Riding leathers, Novalise noticed, that clung to his rather sculpted lower half.
Her gaze snagged on Sarelle, and she reached over, gently lifting her sister’s chin to ensure her mouth didn’t continue to gape open in awe.
The bodies of people dancing swirled to a standstill, parting for Prince Drake as if on command. The musicians stumbled through the final notes of their refrain, then stopped playing completely. Every set of eyes in the forest focused in on her, watching her, waiting to witness their interaction.
That tiny, all-too-familiar bubble of panic lodged itself somewhere in the back of her throat. Her palms grew damp and anxiety crawled all over her like a cluster of spiders. She knew pretending to have the Prince of Brackroth court her was a terrible idea.
Unfortunately, it was too late for her to change her mind.
