All the Stars and Teeth(3)
The steady thumping of the drums is more intense than it was earlier; every beat clatters my bones while the hollow rattling of percussion fills my chest. The air pulses with energy and laughter, warm with the scent of richly spiced pork and roasted honey plums.
Every person—young and old—is out tonight. When the time comes for my performance, there will be no hiding from the eyes of Visidia.
“Isn’t it magnificent?” Yuriel asks. “It’s better than the theater out there, with all those fashions and magics. We should get the kingdom together like this more often.” My cousin sits on the corner of my canopy bed, lounging against a duvet of goose feathers as he picks at a platter full of lavish desserts. Sitting there, he looks almost like a goose himself, careful to keep anything that resembles chocolate away from the dyed pink peacock feathers that make up his eccentric suit, but sipping deeply from a crystal glass of plum-red wine all the same. I keep finding myself distracted by the startling brightness of his lavender eyes and the beautiful fluorescent-pink makeup that wings out from them.
“When I rule, I’ll bring the kingdom together for plenty of celebrations.” I step away from the balcony and draw the velvet curtains shut behind me. Saying it aloud heats my blood, making my skin prickle with anticipation for tonight.
In just a few hours, everything I’ve spent eighteen years working for will finally be mine.
My title as heir to Visidia. The opportunity to set sail and see my kingdom. The right to not only learn its secrets, but to command it.
“I’m glad to see you’re confident,” Yuriel says between gooey bites of frosted fudge. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Though Yuriel and I are both Montaras, our similarities end at the blood in our veins. With a father who is pale as powdered snow, my cousin’s skin is several shades lighter than my own copper brown. And while my hair is a mass of dark curls, his, like all things in his hometown of Ikae, is extravagant. It’s the starkest shade of white, pure even at the roots. Where I’m tall and curved with muscle, he’s soft and delicate—a poster child for Ikae.
But our most distinctive difference is that despite his royal lineage, Yuriel cannot learn soul magic. He gave up that right when he was five years old and accidentally used enchantment magic to turn Aunt Kalea’s hair fluorescent green.
Though he was too young to be held responsible for this choice, it’s now a duty Aunt Kalea and I bear alone. If I’m not deemed a fit heir, then my people will move on to Aunt Kalea; the only remaining Montara left who has yet to claim a magic.
But that won’t happen. No one in my family has ever failed their performance, and I’ve dedicated too much of my life to be the first.
“Amora?” Mira appears from the connected parlor. Her irises are white and glazed over; the look of a Curmanan using mind speak. “Your parents are ready for you.” She blinks the blue back into her eyes. “When you’re ready, Casem will escort you to them.”
Yuriel wags his brows as I turn away to steal a final look at myself. The scratch on my cheek is hardly noticeable under layers of creams and powders. My crepe gown is made to be eye-catching—royal blue with a tight, structured top embroidered with thin gold whorls that accentuate my curves and illuminate the warmth of my copper skin. It’s tight in all the areas I can appreciate, and with my dark brown curls bundled loosely at the nape of my neck, the created effect is fierce.
Mira offers me a cloak that looks as though it’s been drenched in melted sapphires and dusted with starlight. She hooks it to my gown, just below the shoulders, and my breath catches. It glistens like the sun reflecting off dark water and stains my fingertips with shimmer as I brush them across the soft fabric.
“You’ve truly outdone yourself,” I tell her, catching the proud smile she tries to mask.
“Ferrick’s a lucky man,” she says. “You look beautiful.”
My excitement shatters. With as much time as it took to fit me into this gown, I certainly ought to look beautiful. And I felt every bit of it before Mira mentioned Ferrick.
“Thank you,” I say briskly, trying to snuff out the thoughts of my soon-to-be fiancé. “I’m ready to see my parents.”
“Good luck!” Yuriel cheers as he pours himself another glass of wine. I leave him behind in my room, boots clicking against the marble floor as I follow Mira out the door. My guard, Casem, waits with his head tipped back against the wall.
As a Valukan, Casem’s able to manipulate the air around him. But Casem prefers weaponry over magic, and doesn’t often practice his skills. He proudly wears the uniform all royal guards and Visidian soldiers wear, regardless of which island they hail from: a striking royal-blue blazer and a shimmering sapphire cape threaded with silver stitching along the trim. The royal emblem of the skeletal eel gleams brightly on his cape as he dips into a bow upon spotting us, though his pale blue eyes linger on Mira longer than they do me. He’s like a walking honeycomb with his suntanned skin and sandy blond hair, and I swear that’s what he melts into every time he looks at her.
Perhaps one day they’ll work up the nerve to kiss and put an end to their constant longing.
“Do you two plan to enjoy the celebration?” I ask as we walk, thankful to have someone sober to talk to. “Or has my father put you both on duty?”
Their momentary silence is enough of an answer.