Crown of Flames and Ash (Courts of Aetheria #2)

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

A elia

“We mustn’t really attend the ball afterward, must we?” I glanced across the room at Rue as she slipped into yet another gorgeous gown. The idea of spending the evening consorting with the students of Arcanum as if they hadn’t slaughtered half of our own last term was utterly repulsive.

“We do, and you know it. Headmaster Draven made it perfectly clear.”

“But why? What is the point of it all? Why pretend we are at peace with our neighbors across the river when the king says we are on the brink of war?”

Rue slowly shook her head, releasing a long breath. “Because that is simply how it’s always been done.” She sauntered closer on her heels and spun around. “Now lace me up, please.”

I hadn’t dared to inquire if Devin had asked her to attend the ball together. I wasn’t even certain if that was how it was done. If it was a mandatory event, did one even need an escort?

I certainly did not.

Not that my usual escort could be bothered to do so if I had wanted him to.

Once Rue was perfectly fitted in her corset, I turned to my own armoire. Now I understood why the academy had filled our closets with luxurious ballgowns. I’d learned that not only would there be a grand celebration this evening, but also one to commemorate the end of the trials and crown the winners.

“Definitely the gold one.” Rue stood behind me on tiptoes peering over my shoulder.

I fingered the opulent fabric, the silk like rose petals between my fingertips. As I pulled the gown from the dim closet, it shimmered with an ethereal radiance, crafted from the finest gossamer silk that seemed to be spun from pure sunlight.

“Oh, yes, put it on!”

I slipped into the gown and held up the corset top as Rue got to work on the elaborate laces. The bodice was intricately adorned with tiny, iridescent crystals that sparkled like dew on morning flowers. The skirt flowed like liquid light, cascading in soft, sweeping waves to the ground. It was the most glorious gown I’d ever seen.

Rue squealed when the final lace was tied, but she wasn’t quite finished with me yet. After taking a brush to my unruly hair and thoroughly powdering and primping me, she took a step back. A beaming smile spread across her dainty features. “Go take a look in the mirror. You look absolutely ravishing.”

Rushing across the room, anticipation quickened my heartbeat. With every step, the gown seemed to float around me, as though it had a life of its own, trailing a faint, shimmering mist in its wake.

When I reached the mirror, I could barely recognize the female in front of me—no, the Light Fae. I felt like a living embodiment of the beauty and power of light, a radiant being descended from the heavens. The necklace Aidan had gifted me on my twentieth birthday glinted beneath the steady stream of light from above. I fingered the worn medallion, and it warmed beneath my touch.

Rue appeared beside me and gently tapped beneath my chin. “No gawking, A. You have always been beautiful inside and out, and you must own it.”

A bittersweet chuckle escaped as I continued to stare at my reflection. As difficult as the last term had been, I couldn’t deny all I’d gained by coming here. I was no longer the powerless Kin from Feywood. I was Aelia Ravenwood, Light Fae. I still may have had much to learn, but I would never go back.

Rue offered her arm, that big grin still firmly in place. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall. Let’s show those Shadow Fae who rules this side of the Luminoc.”

I stared in absolute awe as we crossed the threshold into the Hall of Luminescence. The entire first floor had been converted into a sprawling chamber of beauty, light and magic. Towering crystal columns stretched endlessly toward the skylight, each one catching and refracting light in a dazzling display of rainbows. The floor, made of polished opalescent marble, gleamed underfoot, creating the illusion that one was gliding across the surface of a calm, celestial sea.

“Realms, how did they do this?” I breathed.

“An overabundance of rais .” A shadow curled across the shell of my ear, delivering his master’s message an instant before the prince of shadows appeared. He moved beside Rue and me, all sharp edges and dark formal wear. I refused to ogle the perfect cut of his jacket across those broad shoulders, the way the material clung to his powerful form like liquid midnight.

My mentor had been too busy with his new acquisition to show up for our defensive flight training yesterday. Instead, he’d sent Professor Lumen in his place. To say that I’d been a little peeved was putting it mildly.

Reign, on the other hand, looked perfectly giddy as his heated gaze raked over me. His jaw ticked, lips parting as if to speak, but a familiar voice cut him off.

“Please be seated.” Headmaster Draven’s deep tenor boomed across the chamber as students, Light and Shadow Fae alike, filled the hall. A clear divide of light and dark stood in sharp contrast, diverting my attention from the resplendent scenery. I scanned the room in search of another shadow prince, but to my relief, the only one I could spy stood inches away from me. Much too close for my comfort. His buzzing shadows whirled between us, thickening the air with nox .

“As soon as everyone is seated,” Draven announced as he stood upon a raised platform that stretched the length of the far wall, “Headmaster Malakar and I will say a few words, then our sun-blessed king himself shall honor us with his wisdom to commemorate this grand occasion.” A dark-haired male with a thick mustache stood beside the headmaster, a tornado of shadows coiling around his form. A sinister scar bisected his cheek, the jagged edges seemingly created by a serrated blade. A prickle of unease zipped up my spine at the sight of Arcanum’s headmaster. From everything I’d heard from Reign, he was far worse than Draven.

Turning my attention back to the room, I perused the dozens of tables that had been set up across the space, encircling what I assumed was the dance floor. A soft melody filled the air, confirming my unspoken thoughts. Did the administration honestly believe we would dance with the enemy?

Rue pointed across the hall at a long banquet table filled with blonde heads. “Look, there’s Heat. Let’s go sit with our squad.”

I followed behind my roommate, weaving between tables of familiar faces along the right side of the hall. All eight squads were assembled, the first-years adorned in gowns and suits that rivaled the beauty of the chamber. My dark shadow loomed behind me, inching closer with every step. Before we reached Heaton, I whirled on Reign, and he nearly barreled right into me. Instead, his hands came around my waist to steady himself.

A hiss escaped through my clenched teeth at the accidental touch. It took me a moment to focus my thoughts as he slowly released me and took a step back. “Where is your new acquisition?” I rasped out. “Shouldn’t you be accompanying her this evening?”

“Perhaps, but instead I’m here with you.”

“Why? You didn’t seem concerned about me last night when you missed our training session to, I assume, remain with your acquisition.”

“I was concerned, which was why I sent Lumen.”

I knotted my arms across my chest, as if they could somehow protect me from the raging indignation.

“I suggest you quickly move past whatever has your emotions twisted and focus on the fact that the prince will be here tonight.”

I barely resisted the urge to punch him in that royal nose. Whatever has my emotions twisted ? He could not be serious.

“Aelia, sit down, the king is arriving.” Heaton’s sharp whisper turned my attention to my team leader and the rest of the squad where they were already seated.

As I glanced around the room, I noticed Reign and I were among the few still standing. Wonderful. Nothing like calling more attention to myself. As it was, with my dark, unbound hair, I seemed to be seated on the wrong side of the divide. I dropped down into the closest empty seat and found myself beside Belmore. Raysa, help me.

At least Reign finally skulked away, disappearing among the ranks of the Conservatory’s faculty. As we awaited the arrival of King Elian, I glanced at the empty table to our left. It was the only one in the entire hall devoid of students. I was seconds away from asking Belmore if he knew who the table had been reserved for when a familiar ethereal presence filled the hall.

The right half of the chamber stood and bowed as his Ethereal Highness strode in, while the other portion of the room diverted their gazes as if standing too close to the sun may permanently blind them.

I’d been so enrapt by the beauty of the hall and my own issues with Reign, I’d been completely oblivious to the thick tension in the air. A heady tangle of nox and rais skimmed over my skin, drawing my own powers to the surface. Here we all were, in the same room, together, Light and Shadow, enemies.

King Elian’s heavy footfalls jerked my attention to the dais as he joined the headmaster. As always, the Light royal beamed with radiant energy as if Raysa herself had bathed him in her heavenly luminescence.

The two headmasters moved to the pulpit and Draven stepped up, clearing his throat. “Here we are, once again, on the eve of the Umbral Trials. I will keep this speech short as tonight is for celebration, not reliving our dark history.” He cast a glance in Malakar’s direction. “As you know, the training you all receive at both academies is essential to the ongoing peace between our courts. If it were not for this perfect balance, war would ensue. And we certainly would not want that, now, would we?”

A rush of murmurs crawled through the hall.

Malakar moved in front of Draven and the left half of the chamber seemed to tense. “Of course we would not,” he replied, a wicked gleam in his eye. “My old friend Draven is correct. What we accomplish at the universities is of the utmost importance. And I expect Arcanum to show our neighbors on this side of the river just how seriously we take that duty.”

A roar of applause exploded across the Shadow Fae section of the chamber.

A sharp keening sound turned everyone’s attention to the back of the hall. The grand doors whipped open and a cloud of pure, inky night seeped in. The very air seemed to shift, the brilliance of the room dimming as if the light itself recoiled from an ominous presence. A figure of imposing darkness, tall and regal, with an aura that exuded power and an unsettling stillness emerged from the shadows. The male’s midnight-black robes, woven from the shadows of the deepest night, clung to his form like a living entity, rippling with an almost imperceptible movement, as if they were a part of the darkness itself.

“Noxus’s nuts,” Belmore gritted out. “What is he doing here?”

My gaze chased to Reign’s, whose face had become a hard, impenetrable mask. His eyes refused to meet mine, instead locked on to the intimidating male stalking down the aisle. He could only be one person: King Tenebris of Umbra.

The king’s face, pale and chiseled like cold marble, bore a look of serene confidence, the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline casting shadows that seemed deeper than they should be. His eyes were his most striking feature—deep, fathomless pools of pitch-black, absorbing all light and reflecting nothing. They were voids, betraying no emotion, unlike those of his eldest son. When those eyes swept over the hall, they left a trail of unease in their wake, as though they could see into the very souls of those who dared meet his gaze.

I finally forced my attention to the front of the room, to our own king whose expression seemed cut from glass. “Tenebris,” he growled. “What brings you to my side of the Luminoc?” A warm golden glow vibrated around the royal as if his rais was mere moments from detonating.

“I thought it only fair since my heir was to attend the ceremony. In fact, I invite you to join us in Arcanum at the end of the term. I assure you the celebration will be just as grand, if not more so.” He raised his hands as he slowly circled, a stream of shadows trailing in his wake. When he stepped to the side, Ruhl appeared from the void. His gaze flickered in my direction, but to his credit, never once did it twitch toward his half-brother on the dais. Reign, too, remained an unreadable mask of calm. I supposed after so many years, his duplicitousness had become second nature.

“Mmm,” King Elian muttered. “You are of course welcome in my court for the remainder of the day.”

“And no more, I’m sure.” Tenebris smirked, the curve of his lips reminding me so much of Reign, I was certain surely someone else would notice the uncanny resemblance. He moved toward the dais, and a wave of shadows pursued, both his own and those of his Umbral Guards, the Shadow version of Royal Guardians.

While King Tenebris strode right past me and stalked up the steps to stand beside Elian on the dais, Ruhl settled at the empty table beside ours. I waited for more Arcanum students to fill the remaining spots, but not a soul moved in his direction.

Interesting…

Draven stood frozen in front of the pulpit, a hard line replacing his typical sneer. A long minute later, King Elian cleared his throat and approached the headmaster. “Shall we continue?”

His head dipped, his long beard trailing the folds of his robes. “Yes, of course, Your Ethereal Highness, the hall is yours.”