Page 6 of This Dark Descent
As the head of one of Enderlain’s eight lesser noble houses, Lady Zalaire had the honor of hosting one of the Illinir’s showcase balls, and the manor had been prepared to impress. The soaring music of two dueling pianos drifted along a stone courtyard set aglow by enchanted lights, and delicate standing tables draped in strings of crystal gathered around a fountain in the shape of Aslir in recognition of House Kelbra, under whom House Zalaire served.
Mikira blended into the line of people funneling slowly past security at the wrought-iron gate, but when she reached the front, a fair-skinned guard with a thick blond beard cut in front of her. His eyes slid the length of her gown, with its tattered hem and moth-eaten fabric, lingering on her chest and hips in a way that made her want to punch him. “You can’t enter dressed like that.”
“Are you serious?” She stepped toward him. “The whole point of thesebloody showcases is so candidates who can’t afford to enter the Illinir can find sponsors. If I can’t afford to enter, do you really think I can afford a nice dress?”
“Maybe I need to be clearer,” he replied. “This party is not for trash. Step back. Now.”
Mikira didn’t move. “My family breeds the most revered line of enchanted horses in all of Enderlain, and you’re telling me this party isn’t for me?”
“The Rusel line? Doesn’t House Kelbra own that ranch now?” He gave a small smile, and that’s when she knew: he’d been instructed not to let her in. Rezek clearly wasn’t going to make this easy for her.
The man waved a dismissive hand. “Run home now, little girl. You—”
Her fist connected with his jaw before she even made the decision to swing. Pain radiated through her knuckles as a wave of gasps rose from the crowd that had quickly gathered behind her.
The man stumbled back, clutching his face. “Bitch!”
His partner grabbed Mikira’s wrist. She drove her boot into his stomach with a snarl, and he tumbled over someone’s leg. More guards appeared, cutting off her escape. Lochlyn’s lessons came rushing back to her:You’re quick, use that. Stay moving.But their backyard training sessions had been to teach her to deal with bullies, not armed guards.
“Is there a problem here?” asked a cool voice.
The crowd parted for two young men. One was of average height, with olive skin and dark curls shorn on the sides. A house ring of black and silver glinted on his hand. The other was tall and pale with hair darker than a raven’s feathers and eyes so blue that for a moment, all Mikira could see was Rezek. Then she took in the scowl etched on his wolfish features and the piercings in his ears, and she almost laughed at the idea of mistaking him for the elegant aristocrat.
“Lord Adair.” The blond guard bowed to the shorter boy. “There’s no problem. We have it handled.”
Shit.Mikira groaned. Running into an Adair wasn’t much better than aKelbra. The Adairs might only be one of the lesser noble families like the Zalaires, but she made a point of avoiding anyone who could see her dead with a snap of their fingers.
Lord Adair’s gray gaze swept across the scene. “This lady is a friend of mine,” he said to Mikira’s surprise. “Apologize for how you’ve treated her.”
The guard stiffened, and Lord Adair cocked his head. “What was your name?”
The man floundered. “Warin Eedren, my lord.”
“Mr. Eedren.” Lord Adair said the name as if testing it for weakness. “Do as I say, and I won’t break anything important.”
Warin spun toward her, bowing swiftly. “I apologize.” He’d no sooner straightened than Lord Adair was beside him, one hand on his wrist, the other twisting one finger in a sharp motion. Everything about it was so casual, a simple shake of the hand. Warin bit back a cry, and Lord Adair released him. Whispers from the people at their backs followed Mikira into the courtyard, Lord Adair and his friend a step behind.
They’d barely entered the milling crowd when Mikira spun around, her skin practically crawling. She hadn’t liked Warin, but she didn’t approve of Lord Adair’s methods either. He was risking Lady Zalaire’s fury, and by extension, Rezek’s, with actions like that.
“Not to sound ungrateful, but what the bloody hells was that?” she asked.
“Funny, that still sounded ungrateful,” said Blue Eyes, his scowl deepening. He looked like someone had plucked him fully formed from a grumpy shadow, dressed in all black from his silk vest to the sleek jacket fit snug to his lean frame. The rings and studs of silver in his ears contrasted drastically with the elegant cut of his clothing, and his black hair was wild as a crow’s nest, complemented by the edges of midnight ink trailing down his neck.
“What are you, his shadow?” she asked.
He glowered, but Lord Adair laughed softly, which only put Mikiramore on edge. Whenever Rezek laughed, it was to his own private joke, which usually involved things going very badly, very quickly.
“Allow me to introduce my friend Reid,” Lord Adair said. “You can call me Damien. You are Mikira Rusel, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied hesitantly.
Damien inclined his head. “I’m familiar with your family. Those guards were under orders not to allow you in.”
Mikira’s sense of unease only grew. “And yet you intervened.”
A half smile curled one corner of his lips. “Yes, well, where Rezek Kelbra takes an interest, so do I, if only to get in his way.”
Oh hells no.The last thing she wanted was to be the plaything in some tug-of-war between two feuding lords.
