Page 149 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Thirty-Five
The Celestial Cascade Ball was Elithian’s most hallowed winter tradition honoring Umbra, god of the night and stars. For novices, it was one final night of celebration before their concluding trials. For Alaire, it had always been a distant display of power and glamour.
Until tonight.
Kaia had warned her that each house would show off their prized fliers to the Consortium. But Alaire knew that, as the last of her line, her every move would be scrutinized, watched, and judged.
Flying in a dress was next to impossible. Whoever claimed otherwise was lying. She wrapped her skirts tight around her legs, but the wind still tore at her cloak as she clung to Solflara’s braid.
Cold air bit at her cheeks. Above, the last blaze of sunset bled into the horizon, a smear of fire. The only sound for miles was the rhythmic cadence of celestials flying in tight formation, Headmaster Carth at the lead on a grey-and-white speckled griffin.
Her grip on Solflara’s braid tightened, knuckles pale. Nerves slithered through her as her mind turned over the same puzzlepieces again and again: the bloodravagers, the symbols in the garden, Kaia’s attack, the files. None fit, no matter how hard she tried to force them.
What if I missed something crucial?
The weight of every decision she’d made since arriving pressed down on her. Doubt crept in, insidious and relentless. She couldn’t shake the fear she’d fail to assemble those pieces in time. The only certainty was that a larger game was at play.
Headmaster Carth raised a fist, pulling her back to the present, signaling the descent. The celestials shifted in a fluid arc toward the world below.
The sight beneath made her stomach drop: luminescent flowers, enchanted lanterns floating in midair, strings of twinkling lights winking in the night, and a sea of people weaving across the balcony outside the manor in a living tapestry of color.
Solflara’s descent was graceful, sparks trailing from her tail—never one to tone down the dramatics. The more who adored her, the better.
“Do not do any loops.The last thing we need is me flashing Elithian’s nobility.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Solflara quipped, though Alaire could hear the laughter she was holding back.
“Sure,you wouldn’t.”
Not to be outdone, Hadrian split the sky with a bolt of lightning. Oohs and ahs erupted from the crowd.
Alaire dismounted in a fluid motion.
Kaia threw off her cloak, revealing a striking stormy-blue dress threaded with silver that sparkled like lightning. It hugged every curve before cascading into a train that fluttered as if caught by a breath of wind. Her curls were slicked back into a bun, highlighting her flawless, heart-shaped face.
Alaire tightened her cloak around herself, scanning the crowd.
“Looking for someone?” Solflara crooned.
“Not at all.”
“Still firmly in the delusional phase of denial,I see.”
Kaia’s almond eyes narrowed at Alaire’s still-covered form, one brow arched in challenge. They’d dismounted on a field outside the gardens, just below the grand balcony.
Her hand hovered over the clasp—until a familiar beak snapped it open. The rich fabric slid from her shoulders, revealing her gown. Solflara nudged her forward with the rounded edge of a talon.
The gown was a masterpiece Kaia had commissioned: deep, fiery red silk clung to her form like a second skin, shimmering with each movement as though she radiated firelight from within. A plunging neckline emphasized her lithe figure.
“You’re a queen now,” Kaia had said, hands on her hips. “Time to look like it.”
Queen. The word still didn’t feel real.
Her fingers brushed the high slit, checking the twin daggers hidden beneath the gold lining. Dawson had insisted she always keep them with her:Promise me, Alaire,turquoise eyes burning into hers.
Where was he tonight?
Feathered earrings swayed as she moved, rubies catching the lamplight. Kaia had woven her hair into an intricate braid cascading down her back, flame-shaped pins threaded throughout. Loosened strands framed her face.
