NOVEL NEXT Book 2: Chapter 27 - Partners [Part 1]
Book 2: Chapter 27 - Partners [Part 1]
A lucky ballista bolt shot from atop one of the border forts was able to fell one of the lesser dragons from the sky, piercing it through the heart. The bespelled adamantine tip punched through inches of rock-hard scale and thick muscle. The mages of Arastia, ecstatic having acquired a vessel of indomitable power, poured all of their magical might into the dragon's now still corpse.
Slowly, like a grave flower blossoming, the dark energies flowed into the great lizard's cadaver, sloughing now rotting flesh from thick pristine white dragon bone. A new nightmare was born, arising with the stench of a freshly turned grave and all the majesty of the winged tyrants of the sky. The first Bone-Dragon Vizzeks came into existence with a roar and the howl of a thousand lost, tortured souls.
- On the Cataclysm by an unknown Quassian Scholar, circa 103 AC.
Seraphina sat before her vanity mirror in the late afternoon light, its polished surface reflecting a youthful face marred with worry. Eloise stood behind her, carefully running a comb through Seraphina's short, golden hair. Her mother had been right; it had looked better longer.
Eloise, with her own raven-dark hair cascading down like a waterfall, studied her mistress's reflection. A faint crease of concern flickered across her face. Under normal circumstances, she would have lightly teased Seraphina for fretting over something as trivial as a ball. But this was hardly a trivial matter anymore—Seraphina's very reputation at the Academy seemed to hang by a thread.
It had all started with a problem that should have been straightforward: Seraphina, a noble and a natural center of attention, had never wanted for suitors. Not including her personal Knights, for she did not count them as they were a given, plenty of gentlemen had rushed to offer themselves as her escort for the upcoming Academy ball. Yet Seraphina had politely turned them all down, holding out hope for a single name: Velens. His invitation was supposed to come, of course. He was the only one whose presence at her side made sense politically, not to mention, if she was perfectly honest with herself, the perfect representation of an aesthetic ideal.
But the news broke like a thunderclap, delivered with false sympathy by her plump "friend," Michelié de Montan, who took her aside after classes. The de Montan girl could scarcely hide her delighted glee at carrying such a sensational tidbit of gossip. From her, she had found that Velens had asked the commoner Este Lize to the ball as some grand reward for Este's heroic assistance in the Meridian City relief efforts.
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Heroic efforts, my left foot, she thought to herself. And if Michelié knew that, no doubt the entire Academy knew.
Velens himself came to her, offering an explanation laced with excuses. He claimed he had been pressured by others into honoring Este Lize, who had shown courage during the city fires. Yet he did not look the least bit regretful. Seraphina could practically see the flicker of excitement in his eyes when he told her. The nerve of him! The smugness! It stung her pride beyond measure, leaving her reeling with fury and dismay.
Now her predicament felt dire: she had already refused a lineup of potential escorts, and no one of suitable status remained unspoken for. The most useless gowns and jewels in the world were the ones without a matching partner on one's arm. Even the middling Water Mage, Fleur, had managed to secure a date—some count's son who was hardly remarkable but, at least, still a count's son. Yet here Seraphina stood, thoroughly humiliated and alone—the daughter of one a Duke, no less. For the first time, she felt utterly powerless. In that moment, her feelings became one with the original Seraphina whose body she now inhabited.
Eloise set down the comb for a moment, trying to catch Seraphina's gaze in the mirror. A pang of pity filled her. She had never seen Seraphina look so defeated. Despite this, Eloise could not resist letting a small, impish comment slip from her lips. The tease bubbled up before she could stop herself, even though she knew it might land her in hot water. She needed to put the spark of fire back in her mistress.
"You know, Lady Seraphina," she began carefully, "you did say once that we didn't need men."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed, the dangerous spark returning to them. "No," she corrected, voice low and taut, "those were not quite my words. I said we did not need men to choose our roles for us."
"So you say, Lady Seraphina," she replied with a knowing smile.
Eloise began brushing again, running the comb through Seraphina's hair in slow, deliberate motions. The silky strands glided against the ivory, calming the tension, if only a little.
"Now, then," Seraphina prompted, exhaling as she fought for composure, "who are you going with?"
A mischievous smile tugged at Eloise's lips. "I made a promise to Sir Gravens," she replied lightly, feigning nonchalance.
"Come now, Eloise." Seraphina's tone was edged in a brittle sort of disbelief. "You can't be serious. Your choices here will affect your future, and he's only a Knight…"
"Oh, my! You're sounding like an old lady!" Eloise teased, lifting one dark eyebrow. "Besides, remember we are all supposed to set aside our titles and statuses within the Academy's walls. He's…" Her voice lowered with a touch of excitement, and she leaned forward to whisper, as though sharing a guilty secret. "He's very handsome and his eyes!"
For a moment, Seraphina forgot her humiliation. A small, wry smile found its way onto her lips. "I dare say he is," she admitted, picturing Sir Gravens's strong features and gallant bearing. "This might be the time for a little fun, after all. You're only young once, I suppose."
"There you go again, sounding like an old lady!" Eloise teased, letting out a soft giggle that finally coaxed a small but genuine laugh from Seraphina.