Reign of the Fallen (Reign of the Fallen #1)(21)
“Lucky for you both,” Simeon’s voice bursts from behind Jax’s tall figure, “I’ve brought a healer with me.”
Using his bony elbow to clear a path through the crowd, Simeon appears with a raven-haired young man on his arm. They’re both dressed in tailored pants and long-sleeved tunics, far more sensible than Jax’s ridiculous formal robes.
“Who remembers this handsome rogue?” Simeon’s smile broadens as he adds, “Danial’s just told me he’s moving here from Oslea! Finally!”
“And just in time, too.” Danial smiles at us all, his kohl-lined hazel eyes sparkling despite a shadow of worry lingering behind them. “Who knows what trouble Si was getting into without me around?”
“All kinds,” Jax deadpans. “All the time.” He glances toward the banquet tables. “Think the Dead left any of the undercooked meat for the rest of us?”
Valoria raises her brows at that, and I lay my hand on her shoulder. “Princess Valoria, I’d like you to meet my friends. This is my almost-brother, Simeon of Grenwyr.” Simeon winks as I say his name. “His boyfriend, the healer mage Danial Swancott.” When his name is mentioned, Danial makes a deep bow that’s less flashy and somehow more sincere than Prince Hadrien’s. “And the brute who prefers his meat still bleeding is Jax of Lorness.”
Taking that as his cue to go fill up his plate, Jax nods to the princess before stalking toward the feast.
“Sparrow!” Danial exclaims, taking my hands. Everything he says has a musical lilt that always draws smiles from his listeners. I swear he should’ve been a bard. “Let me get a good look at you. It’s always a treat.”
I can’t help but grin. Danial’s a treat to look at himself, with powder perfectly applied over his creamy alabaster skin and kohl around his eyes painted on with an artist’s skill. It compliments his shoulder-length hair that’s as black as Idrany ink, and draws attention to his wide eyes.
“I think I’ve already heard what happened here.” Danial’s brows knit in concern as he rubs a thumb over the long gash on my forearm. It was healed enough for me to leave the bandage off for the festival, but it’s scabbed and puckered and far from pretty. “May I?”
When I nod, Danial lays a hand over the cut and narrows his eyes, no doubt using his hazel Sight to check the extent of the damage beneath my skin. Evander and Simeon talk among themselves, having seen Danial at work so many times the novelty’s worn off. But Valoria peers over his shoulder with interest.
Heat rushes up my arm, and when Danial drops his hand, my skin is soft and whole again, with no evidence of the cut that would have otherwise left a scar.
“You’re the best.” I give Danial a warm smile of thanks.
He returns to Simeon’s side, clutching his right hand to his chest, his fingers looking as frozen and twisted as the dried birds’ feet kept in glass jars on apothecary shelves.
“Temporary paralysis,” Valoria says to herself. “The price of a healer’s magic.”
“What’d I miss?” Jax reappears with what looks like an entire serving platter, comically enormous compared to the plates intended for guests. As he dangles a scrap of boar meat above his lips, he spots Valoria, and a thoughtful expression crosses his face. He holds the meat out to her. “The best piece, Highness. It’s yours if you want it.”
Valoria blinks at the bloody scrap, then at Jax as he holds it out to her. “Oh. I—yes, thank you.” Her face turns redder than the meat as she takes it from him and swallows it in one unladylike bite.
Evander makes his way to my side and offers me his hand. “Would you care for a dance?” He keeps his voice carefully neutral, saving the tenderness for the moment our eyes meet. There are few things Evander likes better than dancing.
I grab his hand in answer. Let Lyda think what she will, if she’s looking on with the rest. She can’t keep us from having fun tonight, when it could well be our last.
“I understand your dress might rip if you spin around too much.” Evander grins, which makes his eyes shine. “But I’m willing to risk it if you are.”
We hurry to an empty space on the flagstones, well away from the bonfire, but close enough to feel an occasional burst of heat when the wind blows. Danial practically sweeps Simeon off his feet in their haste to join us.
I tip my head back to the night sky. The moon and stars become a baffling whorl of lights as Evander spins me around and pulls me back to his arms again and again.
For the first time in days, the weight on my shoulders is starting to ease. Dancing with Evander is like walking on air, but with the certainty of knowing he’ll be waiting to catch me when I’m ready to come back down.
“I couldn’t find Duke Bevan.” Master Cymbre breaks the spell, and Danial, Simeon, Evander, and I all stop dancing and turn to face her. I expected to feel braver, ready to take on anything when Master Cymbre returned. But our former teacher looks as defeated as she sounds, with circles under her eyes and strands coming loose from her waist-length braid. It’s only been a week since I saw her last, yet there seems to be more gray than red in her hair now.
“If he doesn’t reappear within the month,” she continues as we leave the dance floor and close in around her, joined almost at once by Jax, “his living heir will inherit his fortune, home, and title.”