Regan scoffed. “Of course it’s an honor. She’s pampered before the rite, treated like she’s some sort of queen. No wonder they compete just to be chosen. It’s the only time they hold any value in their entire pathetic lives.”

“But the girl never gets to go home,” Quinn pointed out, sounding almost doubtful.

“Please. She gets to stay in the Sanctum. With highbloods all around her. Living in luxury in the most holy place in Sangratha. A blightborn girl would never have it so good wherever she comes from. Most of them live in complete squalor, you know. Have you seen some of those hovels they call homes in Veilmar? Blightborn don’t deserve the honor, if you ask me,” Regan snapped.

My stomach twisted, but I stayed perfectly still, listening.

Regan and Quinn were talking about this rite as if it were some kind of fairy tale for the blightborn girl. But I didn’t see it that way. Nothing good ever came of being chosen by a highblood.

“I wonder if Marcus Drakharrow will play the First Highblood this year,” Quinn said, her tone gossipy. “He’s so good-looking. Even more handsome than Blake.”

“Are you joking? Blake is better-looking by far,” Regan said, sounding annoyed. “And Blake doesn’t have Marcus’s disgusting reputation with women. Besides we won’t be there to see it, so why hope? Maybe your Edward will be selected for the part next year. Now that would be something to see.”

“He does have some fine...endowments,” Quinn admitted.

Both girls broke into giggles, which they quickly stifled.

I remembered Marcus. I’d seen him that day on the dais in the Black Keep. He resembled Blake, but was broader, a few inches shorter. I wondered if he was stronger. Did that come even with just a few years’ age difference?

“Maybe it’ll be Lord Drakharrow playing the role,” Regan said, lowering her voice. “Father says the council has encouraged him to take the part. Either way, it’s sure to be someone powerful.”

“Ew, gross,” Quinn complained. “Lord Drakharrow? Can you imagine? Maybe Blake will do it next year. Wouldn’t that be an honor?” I could tell she was trying to goad Regan.

“No, I don’t think so,” Regan said, her tone frosty. “I’d tell him not to do it. You know he always listens to me.”

I managed to suppress a snort of skepticism. The two girls’ voices faded away as they started walking again.

I stayed where I was, trying to piece together all that they’d said. The Adoration Rite. A blightborn girl to play the Bloodmaiden. A highblood man to play First Highblood. Something told me this rite wasn’t like the Night of Silent Offerings. This was something darker. And Blake might be involved.

I clenched my hands into fists, mind already made up.

I’d attend this Adoration Rite myself and find out what was really going on.

There was only one problem: I’d have to find a way to get there.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 39 - MEDRA

Two days before the Dance of the Longest Night, Kage sent me a dress.

It arrived in a sleek black box, tied with a ribbon embossed with tiny silver stars.

When I opened it, the fabric spilled over my fingers, shimmering like liquid night.

The dress was in House Avari’s colors, black with silver accents. The bodice was tightly fitted with a deep V neckline that plunged daringly, framed by thin satin straps that showed off my shoulders and left most of my back exposed. Flared layers of tulle made up the skirt, which had been embroidered with silver half-moons. A high slit ran up one side of the dress, reaching all the way up to mid-thigh.

A note had been tucked into the folds of fabric. “Medra, you don't have to wear this, but I would be honored if you did. House Avari's colors suit you.”

I hesitated, holding the note in my hands. Then I set my jaw. I owed House Drakharrow no allegiance. Why shouldn’t I accept the gift?

Now, I stood in my dorm room with Florence, cinching the laces of the bodice.

“You look amazing,” Florence said admiringly.

I twirled in front of the full-length mirror, feeling the gown swish around my legs. “I've never worn anything like this before.” I glanced down. The slit was certainly high enough.

“Well, I would never have guessed. You’re going to fit right in. The ball is full of girls in extravagant gowns, all trying to outdo one another.” Florence’s eyes twinkled. “But in that dress Kage sent, you’re going to outshine them all. I can’t wait to see the look on Regan’s face when she sees you.”

I looked at Florence. She was wearing a modest gown of midnight-blue with capped sleeves. The dress hit her legs just above the knee, showing off shapely calves and ankles.

“Your dress might be more understated but you look gorgeous, too, Florence,” I said loyally. “You can’t hide that body under a cloak forever you know.” I smiled as she blushed.

We set to work on one another's hair. Florence pinned up half of my red curls, leaving the rest loose around my shoulders, then threaded silver ribbon through my updo. It was a tousled, wilder look that paired well with Kage’s daring gown.

When she was done, I pulled Florence’s long, straight, dark hair into an elegant twist and pushed in some pins capped with seed pearls around it to hold it in place. She looked graceful and sophisticated, exactly the way she truly was.

“Are you nervous?” Florence asked as she readjusted one of the pins in my hair.

“A little,” I admitted. “Are you?”

Florence tilted her head. “I would probably be more nervous if I wasn’t going with Naveen.”

I smiled. “He puts you at ease. That’s a good thing. You know, he...” I was just about to say something along the lines of not underestimating Naveen’s potential when there was a knock at the door.

One of the First Year girls stood there. She was dressed in a tunic and trousers, clearly not planning to go to the ball.

“Medra, you have a guest waiting in the Common Room.”

I thanked her and glanced at Florence. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

I hurried down the winding staircase. As I reached the bottom, my breath caught. A tall figure was standing by the fireplace. For a moment, all I saw was the silver hair and slender tall frame. My heart sped up. Blake.

Then the figure turned. Kage.

He was dressed in a formal black jacket, trimmed with silver and perfectly tailored to his slim, muscular build. A silver brooch, shaped like a crescent moon, was pinned to his left lapel. He looked handsome and regal, with his high cheekbones catching the light and his dark eyes shining like black onyx.

His lips curved into an appreciative smile as his gaze swept over me.

“You look exquisite.” His dark eyes traveled up to my hair. “The dress suits you. It sets off your hair. Like fire against the night sky.”

I felt my cheeks warm at the lavish compliment. I fingered the silver embroidery of my gown, momentarily lost for words, which rarely happened. It certainly never did with Blake.

Before I could properly respond, Kage reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet bag. “I thought this might complete the look.”

He emptied the pouch into the palm of his hand, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a pendant shaped like a half-moon.

“May I?”

He stepped behind me and gently fastened the pendant around my neck. For a moment, his fingers lingered against my throat and a shiver went down my spine.

I found myself wondering whether I could ever feel anything for Kage Tanaka. Would he even want me to? What was he getting out of all of this, besides a perfect opportunity to infuriate Blake?

And besides, who was to say Blake would even care? It might have been sheer arrogance on my part to think he’d be bothered by my showing up to the ball on the arm of another man.

“Perfect,” Kage murmured, stepping back. “You’re perfect.”