Page 116 of This Dark Descent
A woman wearing the gold and white livery of the royal family pushedher way through the crowd, bowing swiftly to Damien, then her. “They’re ready for you at the podium, Miss Rusel.”
It was only then that Mikira realized the crowd had peeled back at Damien’s arrival. As they started along a path at the edge of the manor, reporters swarmed them, fans clapping her on the back and reaching for Atara’s mane. She snapped at any fingers that got too close, and Ari laughed.
The path emptied into a spacious terraced backyard, several tiers leading down to the golden glow of the verillion fields. A platform had been built at the far end, where Prince Darius and Princess Eshlin stood, a bouquet of flowers in the princess’s arms. They wore matching royal white, the bloom of flowers bright against Eshlin’s dress.
The wealthiest of the event’s attendees milled about, sipping champagne that they raised with a hearty cheer to her as she passed. A sharp call echoed in the air, and she glanced up to see Mazal circle once, then dive. The hawk landed on Ari’s outstretched arm as she and Damien climbed the platform to join Rezek behind the royal siblings. His face was a bruised mess, and she realized now that Damien was holding one shoulder stiffly. A berator joined them, a leather briefcase in hand.
Prince Darius stepped forward, and the spectators’ clamoring died to a murmur. He held out his hands as he announced, “Mikira Rusel is the winner of the Illinir!”
The crowd erupted.
Mikira soaked in the cheers even as she fought to comprehend what this meant. Her family would be safe and taken care of. Their debts to the Kelbras would be paid. Her father would be free.
It all felt like a dream.
Rezek whispered furiously in the prince’s ear, but from the thunderous look that filled his cousin’s face, she had a feeling Darius didn’t appreciate whatever Rezek was saying. He gestured him back with a sharp word. Rezek retreated, his face crimson with fury.
The prince nodded to his sister, who descended the dais. She stoppedbefore Mikira, handing her the flowers. “You are all she promised,” she said with a smile, and was gone before Mikira could respond.
The prince launched into a speech about the grandeur and importance of the Illinir’s homage to Sendia that Mikira barely heard. The world fell away around her as bit by bit, an unfamiliar sense of peace stole over her.
It was over.
CHAPTER 44
ARIELLE
MIKIRA HAD WON.
Mikira had won, and so had Damien, and so had she. Soon Ari would be a licensed enchanter, safe from the reach of the law.
Not quite, the voice reminded her.Your power will never be accepted.
What do you want from me?she demanded.
Soon, little lion.
The berator who’d notarized Damien and Rezek’s official deal laid his briefcase down on a table at the back of the platform, opening it to reveal the document they’d both signed, along with the deed of ownership of the Illinir, and those for the Adair verillion and racetracks.
Rezek stared Damien down over the case with a burning, furious hatred. Damien didn’t smile, but she knew that he was reveling in every second of it. She certainly was. Damien had taken not only the Kelbras’ greatest honor and one of their largest sources of income, but he’d stolen something Rezek loved from him.
She would remember that look of helpless fury.
“My lord.” The berator presented the documents to Damien, who slipped them into his own case.
Rezek seized him by the injured shoulder as he was about to step off the platform. “This isn’t over, Adair.”
Damien held in a hiss of pain and looked pointedly at Rezek’s hand. Ari’s eyes flicked to the hawk on her shoulder, and Mazal snapped her beak, nearly catching Rezek’s fingers before he wrenched away.
This time, Damien smiled. “My lord,” he said sardonically. Then they were down the stairs, Ari linking her arm in his as they strode through the tumult.
“Where did Mikira go?” She scanned the crowd.
“Likely enjoying the celebration,” Damien replied. “She has an invitation to the pub later tonight. I need to go now, though; I have a meeting to attend.”
REID REMAINED INSIDEthe coach when they arrived at the Dark Horse, having treated Damien’s shoulder and having “no desire to be anywhere near Loic when he realized he’d lost.”
The pub had been closed to the public in anticipation of the Adair family meeting, the air still thick with the scent of verillion and peat. Damien led Ari upstairs to the same loft that Shira had taken her to, where a gray-haired Celairen man sat in an armchair by the fire, a near-empty glass of wine in his hand.
