Even if I was starting to look forward to it.
“Yeah, Sol,” Titus said, his flames receding as a spark of amusement flashed across his face. “Why do you care about the ball?”
“Did she ask you?” Vox interrupted, an odd note in his voice.
“So what if she did?” I demanded, taking another bite of the peach. “Titus didn’t ask her to go, and she said she’d go with me and we’d wear jeans.” We just never finalized our plans, but she still planned to go with me. I think.
“Formal attire is required,” Vox reminded me. “You can’t wear jeans.”
“Well, she said we’re wearing jeans, and I’m good with that.” And there wasn’t shit he could do about it.
Vox’s brow furrowed. “I’m going to win our bet. You’re falling for her.”
I snorted. “Dude, I haven’t lost yet. We’re not mated, just friends. Besides, what was I supposed to do? Tell her she can’t go to the ball?” Even I could hear the defensive quality of my tone, but fuck if I would admit it out loud. It was a ball. Who cared if I wanted to take her?
“If you don’t want to adhere to the social customs, you should let someone take her who actually wants to dress up,” Vox grumbled, slamming his knife down into the slab of meat with a gust of wind. He cursed when he couldn’t get the blade free from the cutting board.
Titus leaned back against one of the peach trees and smirked. “Are you two seriously bickering over who gets to go to the ball with Claire? Why don’t you just both take her?”
Vox stopped trying to yank his knife free, and I stared at the Fire Fae. “You’re not upset?” It was his mate, after all.
Titus shrugged. “Look, when she gets back from whatever nightmare Cyrus puts her through, she’ll need a distraction. I think the Solstice Ball is a great idea, but I can’t go. Banned, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Vox chuckled. “You burned down the pixie orchestra at the last ball. That was hilarious.”
Titus frowned. “Only because some Water Fae were being dicks. I wasn’t in the mood for their shit.” He shuddered as if the idea of any Water Fae revolted him. I wanted to remind him that Claire had control over water as well, but I didn’t want to be the next thing he burned. “Anyway, you both should take her. It’ll help get her mind off things after Cyrus inevitably comes back empty-handed.” His jaw flexed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is all a ruse on his part to make her stronger. He’s been a complete ass since day one.”
None of us were about to disagree with him, but the idea of both Vox and me taking her to the ball had me distracted. I couldn’t dance—not without destroying half the ballroom—and Vox could pull off a ballroom suit a lot better than I could. He could show her the good time she deserved without me trying to turn her down and probably hurt her feelings in the process.
“So, what are we supposed to do while they’re gone?” I asked, having grown accustomed to teaching Claire at earth class. The other students looked forward to watching her magic. It had been so long since we’d had an Earth Fae with her kind of power and control—she didn’t realize it, but we were learning from her.
Titus glanced up at the peach tree. “I think I have an idea.”
Claire
“This is your childhood home?” I asked, marveling at the white marble walls and obsidian floors. It was so clean. So stark. So bare.
Cyrus leaned against one of the pristine pillars, his icy gaze holding me captive. “This isn’t just our childhood home; it’s our current one, too. It’s the Royal Palace of the Spirit Kingdom, Claire.”
I’d gathered the royal part by the grandiose appearance outside, but it seemed so unlively. Even the moats along the stone walls seemed still. “There’s no one here.” I grimaced as soon as the words left my mouth. “I mean, it’s—”
“Death,” he finished for me. “Yes.” He pushed away from the stone column and walked toward a balcony overlooking the grounds, his hands tucked behind his back.
I glanced at the old paintings hanging from the walls as I followed him, noting the portraits of all the stoic fae. That seemed to be where Exos and Cyrus obtained their hardness from, or maybe it was a result of growing up in this massive home alone.
Wisps of dead trees, still waters, and vapid land met my perusal outside. Even the
setting sun seemed dim, the world around us awash in blacks and whites and little splashes of color. Except for what appeared to be a city in the distance, the glowing embers of a fire catching my gaze.
“Springfall,” Cyrus murmured, following my gaze. “It’s the only Spirit Fae community left in existence.” His hands had slid into his pockets, his expression closed off. “We have a residence there, one in the heart of the court, but Exos and I prefer staying here. It keeps us focused, reminds us of our failures and the journeys that rest ahead.”
“Sounds lonely,” I admitted.
He nodded. “It is, but it’s also necessary.”
“How do you help your people by living in isolation?” I wondered out loud, not following the logic. “Surely they would prefer to see you. And why are there no Spirit Fae at the Academy?” I’d started to assume there were no Spirit Fae left, but the colony of light appeared sizable, even at a distance.
“There are no fae of age to attend the Academy, Claire.”